at home with ann

Archive for March 15th, 2007

To Love

Posted on: 15 March 2007

A while ago Brian and I wrote a sestina together.
We gave each other six words to choose three
each. Brian posted the end result here. In my
wisdom, or rather lack of it, I thought to attempt
another sestina using the six words we’d rejected.


Delicious; a waft of aromatic food
assails her nose. Curious
she follows the trail. Behold a hidden garden.
Relaxed, reclines her dearest friend,
absorbed, engrossed in his open book,
strumming a soulful song

Her sweet voice joins him in song.
Savouring, tasting the delectable food
she wonders at the scribbled notes in his book.
Inquisitive, interested, curious,
comfortable in the company of her friend
secreted in his mysterious garden

Sun shines brightly warming them in his garden.
Dreamily, talk turns to love, music, song.
Musing, is he more to me than a mere friend?
What means he when he declares music is the food
of love? So many words unsaid. She curious
as silently, reserved, once more he gathers up his book.

Tenderly from his hands she removes his book
and gently sets it beside her upon the garden
table. She thinks to herself. She is curious,
as he speaks to her now of a romantic song
one filled with love and passion. Instinctively she feeds food
from her fingers to the sweet lips of her dear friend.

He catches her fingers in his and says, my friend,
there are no notes in my book
nor nectar and ambrosia the drink and food
of the gods, nor delicate blooms in my sacred garden
that match the joy, the pleasure of the song
in my heart. Need I hope? Need I wonder? Need I be curious?

My love, what do we know of each other? Curious
am I to know your touch, to know you. Are you just a friend?
My heart and soul sing a different song.
Each page I seek fresh meaning in my book
of life and love, for surely this is the Garden
of Eden and paradise the sweetest food.

Softly she whispers, be no more curious; close your book.
Enjoy me, savour me, love me my friend, as you do your cherished garden
and I shall sing for you a song of passion that my love may nourish you as the finest food

copyright 2007 ann raven

Ignis Fatuus

Posted on: 15 March 2007

I am not a real participant of Poetry Thursday
How can I be? I’m not a real poet, just someone
who throws words together, but having been alerted
to this week’s prompt, I thought I would try to throw
a few words together and create a mad definition
and what a hoot when I stumbled upon ignis fatuus
and didn’t have a clue what it meant.


Idly sifting through the dictionary
Doing as I’m told
Find a word you’ve never heard of
And make up something bold


Which one should I choose
Too many… I am ashamed to say
Since, I’m a total ignoramus
Still it’s just a poem wanted, not a whole essay

So I stumbled on ignis fatuus
And only one thought came to mind
It can only be about one subject
My enormous fat behind

That covers (almost, it’s so big) the fatuus
But, what about the ignis part
Sounds like an abridged ‘ignorant’
Oh dear, it must mean… I’m a big fat stupid ass

FYI: Ignis fatuus is another name for will-o’-the-wisp
[C16 from Med. Latin, lit: foolish fire]

copyright 2007 ann raven

the loves of my life

at the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet ~~~ plato

thank you…

... to everyone whose pictures and videos I have borrowed; if anyone would like theirs to be removed, please tell me and I shall be happy to do so

all words here are mine ~ I’ll tell you when they’re not!

from long ago

in case I forget what day of the week it is

March 2007