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Victoria Twomey Artist & Poet

Victoria Twomey Artist & PoetVictoria Twomey Artist & Poet

I Will Take You In

the heavens cover me like a sleeping baby

with a star-dappled blanket,

the color of night


the sun worships me as a wildflower goddess

spreading its golden dress in a shimmering curtsy at dawn

and bowing its head with respect at dusk


with my two loving open palms,

my acres of gently waving fingers,

I accept all the land might send for me to gather in


I am a joyful child

with yellow butterflies and shining dragonflies about my face

with industrious burrowers beneath my feet


when startled, I shudder with a burst of flapping crows

but I am reassured by the meadowlarks,

the soft brush of breeze, and singing bees


I am the Purple Poppy Mallow

I am the Pearly Everlasting

I am the Yellow Evening Primrose


go out beyond your fence, your gate,

past the ramshackle barn,

the silent plow


look for the end to the path, and go farther

look for the vole, the shrew, the spittlebug,

the winding garter snake, the leaping orange fox 


look for the place where rabbits hide and wild begins

let go of all in you that has been tamed

and I will take you in

 

~First published in Writing in a Woman's Voice, May 1st, 2022. 

https://writinginawomansvoice.blogspot.com/.../blog-post...

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Listening to Snow

crystalline voices

as old as water itself


have come to visit again

this time, disguised as little white shivers-


when listening to snow

be gentle with yourself


as you watch each long, soft journey

from the beclouded heights


you may overhear

a beautiful, frightening truth


as they speak of destiny

of transmutation


you may find yourself

for a fleeting moment


clutching those things around you

that seem solid


or visited

by a vague memory 


of disappearing from one life

and being born into another


~Published in Verse-Virtual Online Community Journal of Poetry, September 2023 Issue

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Blurry Fluttering

on the shelf

by the window


a picture of you in a place I’ll call heaven

playing piano in a garden


next to it, your aftershave 

opened briefly and only on special occasions

 

and lots of angels left and right,

just in case, though neither of us believe


a small photograph of us when I was two

you are directing my attention to the camera


then, and even now

you are encouraging me to smile


was that you

just now, in the window?


or was it only the blurry fluttering

of peripheral birds?


first, the sound of muffled flight

then, the hollow silence of empty air


~Published in The Home Planet News Issue Ten

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Addition and Subtraction

how much does the sky weigh at any one time

when counting all things that fly

that intermingle and evaporate

that rise and fall

all things hidden from our view

 

do the gods calculate such things

standing on the clouds in their rhinestone sandals?

 

one came to me through my open window

on a summer night

when I was a child hiding inside my heart

 

her hair a radiant curtain, gently lifted

she smelled of green cut grass

and wore a dress of soft white moon cloth 

 

she smiled and when she spoke

a sparkle of fireflies floated out into the air

 

believe, she said

and gave me a tiny pearl covered in wings, to swallow

use this to float up to the sky

and you will be counted 

 

what is the power of hope

when compared to the density of darkness

 

what is the weight of the gravity beneath our beds 

what is the weight of the sky when we arrive

 

do the gods consider such things?


Published in Verse-Virtual, June 2022 Issue:

 Victoria Twomey Verse-Virtual June 2022 

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White Dress on a Clothesline

who has left this delicate cotton cloth

handsewn with care

to fit a young girl’s shape

with its small white buttons

its white lace collar

pinned at the shoulders

on this worn clothesline

behind this empty farmhouse?


the cloth is thin

and made for dense summer days

when this tree above

would have been fertile green

when there would have been

birds singing

a song for rising

a song for resting

a song by which to wander

a song to call the children home


more empty than the broken chairs

on the collapsing porch

this abandoned house

will soon be embraced by wild

come to claim, consume, console -

one day, it will call this cotton dress

with its blue satin ribbon about the waist

to rejoin the brown earth


this empty white dress

uplifted and released

ascending and descending

in the chilly breeze


Poem "White Dress on a Clothesline" published in Writing In A Woman's Voice, April 30th, 2022. Winner of the 95th Moon Prize. https://writinginawomansvoice.blogspot.com/2022/04/blog-post_30.html

Erratic Balloon

I understand

I do


you are not the only one

who sometimes feels like a frightened child


afraid of an erratic balloon 

filled with angry exhalations


the shadow of birds

swooping too close


a zigzagging kite

controlled by the wind’s demands


a cloud that suddenly covers the sun

threatening a storm


it was a necessary habit

formed too early on


now, useless time spent

worried about ghosts that vanish into nothing


~Published in First Literary Review-East


Victoria Twomey Artist & Poet. Signed Giclee prints, note card gift sets, wall art, original colored pencil drawings paintings, artwork, fine art, colored pencil artwork, art prints, art gifts, note cards, home decor, poetry, poetry books.  © Copyright 2019-2025 Victoria Twomey.  All rights reserved.  Etsy Shop Website: https://www.etsy.com/shop/VictoriaTwomeyArt


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