28 December, 2011

Cycling Down

Before that, and that, and that...
Yesterday, the dry-throated cold
of the desert floor, rushed forth to
chill what the sun had tried to
warm. And that, and that, and that...

We slept in repose of blanketed
heat, garnered from orange solar
rays, sprayed down restless, come to
take the chill back to its root
cellar. And that, and that, and ...


18 December, 2011

Painted High

The desert sun set,
dancing its crayons,
in variegated waves,
over our awe-
stricken eyes.

Overwhelmed to a
heartbeat, drum in the
ears, we ached for
time to stand
quietly still.

Land blackened coal,
to a bone chilling howl,
and the harlequin
gave way to the

Copyright Denise A White

14 December, 2011

Night Writer

The moon's rays fell,
Like droplets of dew,
Waking me to all the possibilities
Of the night.

I stand and shake myself off,
Like a horse shakes away the flies,
On a hot summer's day, only to find
It was night.

Pen comes to hand
On the page it converses
With the words flowing through my mind,
In the night.

Together we dance
Until the image is complete,
Like the moon's beams shining down,
Late at night.

Copyright Denise A White  2012

13 December, 2011


A warm day of gray is my blanket.
The mist never penetrates my fibers.
I shall stay color-filled in the shadows of my mind.

Copyright Denise A White

05 December, 2011


Bright as a full moon
On a cold summer's night,
Full of hope, love, and dreams,
The ground was aglow.
The night was below,
And the lights
Carried out
Their event.

The sky it did dance,
On that cold winter's night,
Making love with the creatures below.
The faces that turned
Up saw a show,
And the lights
Carried out
Their event.

Then as bright as it was
It turned suddenly black,
And everything ran for cover.
They were scared that the darkness above them
Had snuffed out the candle
Because their eyes
Had fallen

So love of the summer
Would wait for to come
And so would the light of the night.
To bed they would go
And wait for a
Night when
the sky was

Copyright Denise A White