Kaleidoscope

Falling leaves rustle
blown by howling winds.
Kaleidoscope of colors swirling
like my mind these days.
Focus on the moments
when sun touches me like kindness.
Kindness is more contagious
than the virus swirling in the wind.
Sun shines down today. Happy am I

Kaleidoscope is written by Lindsey Ein. I’m thrilled to post her poem to my blog today. She’s responded to the Quadrille prompt at dVerse, writing a poem of exactly 44 words that includes the word “happiness” or a form of the word (“happy”). Lindsey is the mother of my very talented son-in-law and belongs to a writing group in Kentucky.

Once Upon a Walk

Autumn brilliance beckons
quiet walks feed my soul.
Chain link fence meant to impede
gives pause.
Adorned by copper hued leaves
between and through metal links,
the mundane
turned stained glass window.
I sigh . . .
before walking on.

Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse where today, Sarah asks us to write a 3 to 12 line poem choosing one group of three words from a list she provides. I chose feed-copper-quiet.

SO INTERESTING! Each group of three words marks an actual place in England (feed-copper=quiet is the exact location of the National Art Gallery in London). Sarah tells us “The developers of what3words have divided the whole world into 3 metre squares and allocated each of them a combination of 3 words. The idea is that if you are lost and in need of help, you can use these words to pinpoint your location exactly.” I went to the site and found the three words that pinpoint exactly where I live.  Interesting concept!  Our poem is just to use the three words – it does not have to incorporate the actual place the words refer to in the mapping scheme.

Photo taken on a BC walk in Andover, MA.
BC means Before Covid — as in last fall.

Some future Thanksgiving . . .

generations absent,
younger ones, elders now,
hold hands round the table.

Tofurky on Wedgewood platter,
agave sweetened yams.
Fresh green beans afloat
in organic mushroom soup.
Real-orange jelloed mold
quivers on bed of kale.

Voices sing familiar grace.
Misty eyes . . .
remembering.

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De hosts Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. We are to use the word “quiver” or a form of the word, in the body of a quadrille. Quadrille: a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. I went light with this one – a bit of humor needed in these days of 24/7 news!

Got the Zing!

I shall not go quietly.

Monocolors about to shift
enabled by passing time.
A last hurrah.

Flashing reds and golds
kicking up my heels,
swirling dervish as I let loose.

Revelry earned by business suits,
years of accountability
must-dos and many don’ts.

I shall dance the can-can.
precisely because I can
and am.

My name may not be Autumn,
but watch me go out
in a blaze of glory.

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Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where Bjorn asks us to write using metaphor. Photo cropped from one in Pixabay.com. 

Fall’s Egress

Melancholy autumn rain.
Nature weeps as color takes its leave,
once golden amber, streaked through brown.
Droplets cling momentarily,
cleave to hawthorne crimson berries.
Lover’s farewell kiss.

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Photo taken outside our Boston high-rise yesterday. Coincidentally, our building is called Hawthorne Place and yes, this is a hawthorne tree after the morning’s rain.