Stars twinkle,
even behind clouds.
Shine,
wherever you are.
Day 18: National Poetry Writing Month, where the challenge is to write a poem every day in April.
Today’s prompt from Toads: write a poem of encouragement. Photo taken last summer in Cape Cod’s Provincetown.
For sale
Rose-colored glasses.
Create order in your world.
Bring happy tunes to mind.
Walking on Sunshine
Don’t Worry
Be Happy.
.
So
be
it.
.
Slip-ons.
See only what is good
All else becomes invisible.
Rids evil from your world
Make happiness live
everywhere.
Buy now.
Combining two prompts here….and attempting to shape the poem like a pair of glasses…use your imagination!
Day 14 in National Poetry Month’s prompt from Toads: write somehow about the idea of the invisible or invisibility; and Poetics Tuesday at dVerse where Laura hosts and asks us to write about the idea of order. Image from Pixabay.com
Tell me a story, magical and gentle,
like Shasta daisy petals
dancing in soft winds.
Lullaby me through foamy seas.
Envelop me in undulating waves.
Stir my imagination
beyond daily doldrums.
Guide me into Neverland
on etheral dream wings,
soaring beneath sand encrusted lids.
Quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title) written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where De asks us to use the word “stir” within the body of our poem.
Photo taken on La Jolla, CA coastal walk last week. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
if I put on lacy anklets
chalk hopscotch on my sidewalk
tie these grey locks into pigtails
and read Golden Books,
will everything be fun again?
Written for Open Link Night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. I’m “tending the pub today” and look forward to reading all the posts. Photo taken a few weeks ago at the Corvette Diner in San Diego’s Liberty Station – our waitress’ feet!
Strawberries.
Luscious dimpled red,
capped by emerald-leafed crowns.
Thumb and forefinger
pinch greenery,
slowly bring to mouth.
Eyes dilate.
Yearning at first sight
turns to absolute delight.
Sweetness explodes.
Taste sublime
brings smile divine.
Nectar-trickle escapes lips
stains white linen,
evidence of fulfilled lust
Fulfilled hides the prompt word fill.
Photo taken as we brought these amazing strawberries home from the Hillcrest Farmers Market in San Diego. Poem written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today De asks us to include the word, or a form of the word, “fill” in our quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title). Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Eucalyptus trees stand tall.
Look up, look down and feast your eyes.
Lily pad shaped quilt of greenery
melding into rolling hilly ground.
Brambles. Clover flowered shrubs.
All revel beneath blue sky canopy,
clouds banished in sun’s reign.
Sit. Breathe in.
Appreciate.
Photos taken this morning from deck at our rental apartment in San Diego.
“As I left China farther and farther behind, I looked out of the window and saw a great universe beyond the plane’s silver wing. I took one more glance over my past life, then turned to the future. I was eager to embrace the world.”
Wild Swans, Jung Chang
Youth and middle age.
I am far past those lanes,
beyond that curve in the road.
Photos framed on shelves.
Who I was and who I loved
all along the way.
Mirrored image returns my gaze.
Silver haired and wizened,
in this, my final season.
No turning back.
Winter’s snow always glistens
even in the setting sun.
I shall embrace this scene.
This my new world forever,
as ever I shall be.
Mish is hosting Tuesday’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to choose a book near us (or from a link she provides) and look to the last lines at the end of the book….and then let those be our poetic muse for our post today! Thus the last lines to Wild Swans, included before my poem.
Photo from our trip to Norway a few years ago.
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.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where Bjorn asks us to write using metaphor. Photo cropped from one in Pixabay.com.
I dreamed of holding stardust in my hands.
Wondering who you were inside of me,
moving softly as my belly expands.
Some being, ethereal? Feathery?
Then you abruptly kicked. Staggeringly.
Doubts, questions, fears, realities unfurled.
How to protect you enough in this world?
Then you, pushing. Pushing until you’re through.
Angry. Squalling. Blotched face. Legs fetal curled.
But once in my arms, my stardust I knew.
Today Frank is hosting dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. We continue to explore the Dizain — a particular form of poetry that includes 10 lines, each with 10 syllables, and a rhyme scheme of ababbccdcd. There is to be a “turn” in the poem after line 5. For me, as always with forms, and in particular forms with a set rhyme scheme, it is a struggle to have the meaning of the poem come through without calling attention to the form. Although folks at dVerse have been working with the Dizain for a bit, this is my first attempt. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come try your hand at a Dizain! Photo is from pixabay.com
We are family,
not by blood lines but by love –
Adirondack time.
