Marjorie Moorhead writes from a river valley at the NH/VT border. Her two chapbooks are Survival: Trees, Tides, Song (Finishing Line Press 2019) and Survival Part 2: Trees, Birds, Ocean, Bees (Duck Lake Books 2020). A third chapbook is forthcoming.  Marjorie is grateful to share her work in many literary journals and poetry anthologies. Her poems have been nominated for Best of the Net, and Pushcart Prize. Much of Marjorie’s work can be accessed at https://marjoriewritespoetry.wordpress.com/places-you-can-see-my-work/

Bedazzled

I step into the arms of the day and
like a casket at a wake,
or a book to its marked page,
this morning’s sky opens its lid of grey
just enough to reveal
all the colors layered there.

Slit like a lolling lizard’s eye,
parting to see what lies ahead,
gray cloud gaps open, revealing
pearly creams and baby blues lustered inside.

Oh, this peek under the bed; this lift of veil!
Opened sky now blushes,
the way abalone secrets shimmer a shell.
Iridescent nacre speaking its magic,
glimmered pink blessings unfold before my heart.
Day sings its song of fullness, arms open
in a beckoning call to embrace, engage, celebrate, revere.

I am a sponge, saturating in wonder.
Today’s lifting lid offers all that is needed.
Soaked in its spell, a cast of bedazzlement,
I carry this forward.
How long will it last?