Oct 15

Oct 15 LANTERN LIES by Judie Maré

Judie Maré

Poetry

I made a Japanese lantern

With fabric of multiple dyes,

ribs divided like Saturn,

a globe halved by rings in the skies.

Should I float it upon the smooth river?

Sail spirit helloes bye-the-byes?

Risk nibbles submerged as I shiver?

Cold fishes with multiple eyes?

The candle I placed at its center

controling its life till it dies,

illumines arenas it enters―

silk weavings, its darling disguise.

But lift from the flame and the flicker

said, "Escape, fly away to new highs.

Come with me, sip a new liquor~

from vapors of earth let us rise."

We passed by a star glowed and marbled.

Dimmer be we, loosed our ties.

Endless dark gasp as we marveled

with no oxygen left for our sighs.

Forego a Japanese lantern

that whispers forever―unwise.

Silk robes bared the slopes of a slattern,

florid beauty faded to lies.

Judie Maré

A California girl, Judie Maré grew up in the San Joaquin Valley, moved and absorbed seventeen years of Arizona living before returning home. Her love for those two states with her education divided between them, influences her writing today.

With four books of poetry published to date, POETICALLY INCORRECT, MORE GLASS THAN WALL, HEARSAY, and HIGH OCTANE ORGANICS, her fifth endeavor is in process .Her poems published in the National Library of Poetry-1966, Morning Song-1977, Calvary Chapel Publications 1990-1995, Shifting Gears-2005, E3RESOURCES.com-2013, and the anthology CAT TALES.

Retired from careers in fashion modeling, public relations and medical management, she resides with her husband, cat, and parakeet on a hillside in Southern California's Inland Empire.