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Posts Tagged ‘dorothy sells clover’

Midnight Bike Ride

In Poetry on October 25, 2012 at 1:25 pm

Midnight bike ride, friend in tow
Wobbly unsure start, riding side by side
Rushing sound of the wind in your ears
Like the drone of a thousand angry bees
Exhilarating feeling, senses heightened, heart pumping
Peddle awhile, cruise, peddle some more

Yapping dogs lunging at your feet (their exercise
For the evening)
Lone walkers, dark neighborhood
You peddle faster
Another courageous biker coming out of the
Darkness of night
Riding like he’s in a New York marathon
Peddle, coast, coast, glide
You ride on…

Full moon ..a welcome beacon in the midnight sky
Like the north star for weary slaves
Lighting the way on an otherwise dark and foreboding street
Giving vision to certain obstacles in our path
Occasional bumps, or those infamous potholes
That can send you flying over the handlebars
Railroad tracks… a welcome break
Peddle hard to the top
Coast for a block, arms flailing like
Kids on a roller coaster
Pump harder, pick up speed

Street lamps dot the lane like islands
They are few and far between
A lone vehicle lights our way,
But cautiously passes by eventually
The wind engulfs us like an airish blanket
Rhythmic panting, muscles aching
Nearing the end of our trek
Slowly peddling… coast to a stop.

-Dorothy Sells Clover

Originally published in Cornucopia, her book of poetry.
Read our review


Cornucopia by Dorothy Sells Clover (Short Review)

In Review on March 6, 2012 at 8:40 pm

Walking around the Merchant Soirée this past weekend, I came across a poet selling her books. After I stopped, she insisted on reciting a poem for my girlfriend and me. Of course I let her. A few lines in, I was sold. I was sold on Dorothy as a great poet and a great person.

Reading through Cornucopia, you’ll learn a lot about Dorothy. She jumps from matters of faith, race, relationships, and weather and treats all topics with equal beauty and melody. You’ll meet a strong, independent women that loves her family, her city, and her God.

Back to the Merchant Soirée, here’s the ending of the poem she beautifully recited to us:

 Deny me, taunt me, refuse me of
a kiss from lips divine.
I will accept most eagerly; a fool would not decline.

A kiss to feed my wanton soul…


Interested in purchasing Cornucopia? Click here to buy in book or digital form.

Review written by Tyson Peveto


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