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I DANCED - poetry chapbook
by Richard L. Provencher  
7/25/2008 / Poetry


81 Queen Street, Unit 6, Truro, Nova Scotia
Canada B2N 2B2 Phone (902) 897-2344
E-mail: richardprov1@netscape.net

A Poetry Chapbook with 20 poems


I DANCED
By
Richard L. Provencher


Poetry Statement:

A love of nature escapes from the heart, desiring space to reflect. I truly believe poetry exists as an opportunity to enjoy images that beautify our pulse helping us feel alive as humans. So I dare to dance with the music of sight and sound.

Seven of the enclosed poems have been published in print or online. These journals include: The Cormorant (1988); The Officers' Quarterly (1996); Poet's Gallery (1989); Ascent Aspirations Magazine (2006); Sentinel Poetry Magazine (2003); The Dublin Quarterly (2006); and Poet's Podium (1996)

This collection is dedicated to my wife, Esther, a powerful prayer warrior, without whom, my writing would not be fulfilled.


A Beginning

Ghostly images slow-dance
as smoky tendrils

sleet masking a snowy
terrain

Nature's boundary separating
dampness from the
snowy bliss.

Within the comfort of hideaway
trees, spirit mist

arises free.

**

A Landscape

Night is a blanket
of stars, day's brightness
downsized to cloudy
dabs of gray high above
a coastal village
son's report card a
shower of praise
husband's codfish catch
something else.

Now she lays in the
silence, her man snoring
after a meal of loving
Nathan in the next room,
counts her blessings
she does, family a
castle of promise.

**

A Searching

eyes across dry
parched desert, snake sees

coils within his ring
reaches out,
snares

a little creature, mole
cries betrayal

too late

eyes bulge in anger,
tricked

this was a safe journey, as
I traveled from other destinies
no one

advised against the dangers

**

A Spiritual Banquet

Our canoe allows a feast of pleasure
its sleek hull an arrow
piercing the stillness of a greater plan
as reflections shunted
from stately trees where cozy cottages
are a ring of jewels

this lake created from cups of freshwater
a sanctuary from grasping
life, woes and errs of human contact
left behind. We step up to Nature's
table and absorb these vegetables
tempting us

birth of a baby-blue sky,
shush of quiet ripples against
our fiber glass prow, the thrill of a
loon's lament. We hold firmly
to these moments-

dip of cherry wood paddle, our
J-strokes moving us forward
to future feasts.

**

An Early Catch

on his boulder-white
stone a seagull stares with
startled eyes, early morning
light and reflecting waves
paint pastel delights, watery ribbons
and twisty designs, flavoured by windy
huffs rushing in low across the
expanse, crossing from mainland's
sight and seeking a place to store
any treasure amid schools of fish
galore, hearts beating a triumphant song
as he stretches a restless wing,
morsels float nearby, sailboat
at bay rocking gently in its
cradle, awaiting early morning's
hustle feet thumping along the pier,
hoping today's catch is
floundering and boasting near

**

Around Dusk

clouds are subliminal layers
of iridescence
one upon another as
evening survives
another day

within this ravaged forest
tormenting machines stilled
from their
insatiable demand
for growing greenbacks

primeval timber
anxious for a respite,
where burnished pines guard
as silhouettes
atop the joy of wilderness

ancient sunset masks
reddened tears,
frightened for tomorrow's
further
outrage of shame.

**

Safari of Desire

South African hyenas scavenge, a
signature
they too are part of
the precious Savannas

lions meditate in pride, crocodile
snouts protrude, guarding
watery temples
and the Marula tree guides
spirits of ones ancestors.

Whipping Whettle leaves,
Mopane trees, scrubby
bush, gorges, sliding hillsides
on this Nyalaland Trail of
abundance a menu

where thatched-roof huts
abound in circles,
leafy trees
understanding a village need
for privacy, especially

from the terrors at night.

Yet, in the darkness of memory
a basket of sharing bathes
our blessing, the
tease of your scent
as I gather in a night of loving.

**

Aviary

The sky is a lock of water
among the hills

joining sky versus
land, where fowl inhabit

openness and hard crusts.
Humans exhibit their
wares

the only safe
journey beneath
the seas of the world

below the depths of
earthly worries

errs of existence, damaged
crops and
other essentials.

Hurry to correct the
situation, food banks, charities
to other nations

and we are left at the well.

**

Bedouin

Thirst is an impediment
for hooves
across the Sahara,
eyes as stars

breakfast among the
dunes, shifting ridges, windy
nudges challenging
our camels, their

throaty calls streaking
across the terrain. A
dust storm spirals
from the sky, creates

a stamping on the
ground, the
measure of sun's anvil.

**

Feast of Summer

The Milky Way
is a collection of
nightly glimmers,
an imaginative
journey through
the galaxy,
into our minds

Queen Cassiopea,
Aquila the Eagle,
Northern Cross
and Great Rift, a
fantasy of dusty
smudges.

**

Rose Bay, Nova Scotia

Ocean's froth is gathering
along the shore, a windy push
of foghorn blasts
into the bay, forest's
silhouette saluting our twin-peaked
cabin, footsteps
in the sand as misty outlines
on the beach
seagulls swooping with
lasting messages
peek-a-boo driftwood on a beach
of seaweed,
clumped in salty disarray.

**

Shadows

cower beneath a Spruce
of drooping branches
hares peering
within a rising snow bank
and mice gather.

The wind continues its push of
white piling high against
the farmhouse

children huddle by the fire
mom, dad making plans
for tomorrow.

In the attic pigeons cuddle
and coo, dark but warm.

**

Sundown's Enchantment

The evening tingles
with showers of radiance,
soft lavender splash
warming trees and fields

edge of God's smile,
peaceful aside Cobequid Bay.

Car hums along at 100 Km
traveling Hwy 104
work troubles masking my view,
headache in full alert.

But, I become alive.
Absorbing your splendour
eyes feast at shadow's rim,
swirls of yellow and gold
colouring the scene.

In my hurrying gait, in my
crab-scrambling race
I allow a bathing.

The sky is a comfort, feelings
changing from moody blue,
orange and red to yellow hue

comes a sweet soothing,
a rekindling
of life's eager fire.

**

Standing Around

From their master's
cultivated land cows stretch
necks and tongues to
a ravine of water

others watch a few muddy
feet away. Guernsey's
they're called
brown and white colours
of friendship

lessons for mankind.
The day is also a
joint exercise of
non-violent interrupting.

Disturbed from squatting
rest two ducks scoot
across the pond

cows pass along stares
at departing wings.

**

Swimming in Sentiment

My heart is a lyre, plucking
stories from TV's
medium of anguish --

Taliban ferment in Afghanistan
Rebels in the Congo,
Terrorists on Malaysian soil
a sniper
in Maryland, USA.
And havoc
within the cities of Iraq.

Tormented people are
not diminished
their lives a testament to my
thoughts --

I feel anguish within those
tortured faces,
victims of Columbia drug wars
failures in food shortages
and escape from Ethiopia's
drought.

Tired souls possess a
passion for survival,
capturing mice for food
on the barrens of Afghanistan,
fish in the harsh distance of
Arctic north, and holding
one another during Tsumani's rage.

I am in bondage to their spirit.

**

Early morning

from my window. I see passers by
and their
anxiety filled faces
bulging tummies
with showy coats of marked-up
retailed cloth

in a trestle of movement, an
overlap of cars, trucks
belching past neighbours
on their way to some
necessary activity.

Behind this wall I inhale
their existence, watch living standards
and record any harmful looks
thrown my way. Their

eyes cannot understand
my wounds, my desire to get out on
the sidewalk and join them.

**

Nefu Desert

That bark-less tree
is a witness
to our desires, as

rock formations like
sleeping lions

point regal stares
to imaginations of water
fountains

and we accept
their eyes of distance.

**

These Great Outdoors

Nature is a slice of affection
where winds soothe
stream's cascading surge

Mallards and Pintails above
in evening shades, as
silhouettes of movement.

Rain-pouncing warmth, sprinkles
on shoreline's clothing of
kelp, abandoned buoys and
other flotsam

loons absorbed in eerie calling
throughout the mist.

Dusk is a weaver of Poplar and Birch
sun shrinking, mosquitoes
upon my brow

ripples on the lake
our canoe searching, Nature a
smorgasbord of memory.

**

I Danced

inside a daydream,
the feel of you, your
scent surrounding, lovely
attire in the wilderness
of my domain

rainbow fire an evening
soliloquy, tapping rain
on my shoulder
combined with a stairwell
of loon accolades.

Attention to spirit within
a day and night in dreaming.

**

In the Blink

of morning's yoke of light,
once
tired muscles
stretch, modified from lazy
sleep to fighting trim,
reaching
out to assail
the prize, to capture the
moment, singing of new life,
and heap praise
on day's beginning, and
promise.

* * *

Richard L. Provencher 2008

My wife, Esther and I really enjoy writing. It is an excellent salve, in addition to prayers, a great wife and family during my continuing recovery from a stroke/aneurysm. You can contact us at: richardprov2@gmail.com re comments on our work. We live in Truro, Nova Scotia, Canada. Pray for others.

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