Luck

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/luck/

Luck has waxen wings;
Flying through rays of glorious yellow
With a tail of radiant red.
Glaring and daring the sun
To deny it a future.

Luck has paper wings,
Sodden and ground-bound, stricken,
Laden with gravity, a leaden power,
Which pulls it kite-like
Through puddles of tears, betrayed.

Luck has feather wings,
Ignoring words of failure, mockery.
Moving in between tears.
Dropping lightly, butterfly like,
Starlike, super star, nova.

Luck has eternal wings,
Laughing at the crowds who flock
Like joyous crows before a feast,
Who beg her for a morsel. Teasing,
Recreating herself endlessly.

Luck has lunar moth  wings,
Dominating the nighttime, peeking
Into dreams bereft of reality.
Children's dreams, hopes, parent's prayers,
Planning a voyage into time.

Luck has nimble wings,
Speeding past the impossible,
Ringing the tones of celebration,
Paying out at pinball machines,
With paper strips and silver coins.

Luck has steam powered wings.
No misfortune, nor even tasks 
To pull one through for she is not idle
Hands search, alone in the dark. For her wings
Are gossamer ideals put to work.

copywrite 2017 Ann WJ White
All rights reserved

A Gift in Words for Friends

I met a friend in a photo, dear,
She didn’t know I was a friend.
I walked in her woods, saw her build smiles
From smiles over hill and dale. She held a bridge
Out to me when I was drowning.
I will build a bridge for her
To travel to and fro where the leaves
Still stand red in amazement,
Where a giant crawls from the Earth
In a great awakening.
The business men who fail to look up
Or down or around while they text,
Should look behind. For great art gives
A great gift and beauty is planted
As the winds grow cold, and winter comes.
I’ll share a moon with you to brighten your way,
Perhaps a rainbow to connect the world again
Where peace is a flower, a snowflake, a smile.

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Autumn on the Danube
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The River Danube
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Fall along the Danube
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Wine Country, Germany

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Norma’s Birds

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In the Style of Haiku

Leaves changing red, yellow,
Falls, life blood carelessly thrown
Away in cold gusts

 

Strings of thread, twisted,
turning, cut, wind pulling to
find a high-strung kite.

Dogs bark, sun rising
Stretching my legs, my soul up
Breakfast time is here.