I was before this.
I am now, three words before
now, and three after.
live for today
Decide with Me
Curtains open wide
streaming sun shines warmth and love
today I shall live.
The Kiss
It was all they wanted for their anniversary. They’d traveled every state and hiked so many trails together. They just wanted to go back to the beginning. The old amusement park.
We brought them to the litter strewn vacant lot. We’d heard the story so many times. The Tunnel of Love where the boat rocked in dark water, pulled forward by chains. Their first kiss.
They saw the rusted turnstile; ride long gone. And as is if we weren’t there, embraced. Their kiss, strong, passionate and deep. We blushed. Our father and mother, a man and woman at their core.
Word Count: 100 Photo Credit: Amy Reese. Written for Friday Fictioneers, so deftly organized by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
A Promise
Skeleton trees rattle outside my window
the moon, their spotlight
as branches click like castanets.
No mouth, no heart, no head
just limbs flailing in the winter wind, so alive
though sap was spilled in days gone by.
They tap upon the glass as if to remind me,
seasons do change. Just keep in step
and move with us, partners in the dance.
The gift of greening shall evolve
and music shift to spring-time waltz,
nature’s present in days to come.
I smile, looking through the pane
today’s impossible will bloom tomorrow.
And I shall wire rose buds together,
a welcome wreath upon my door.
Motivated by the Sunday Whirl, Wordle 233. Create a poem using these words/forms of these words: head, mouth, present, wire, change, gift, possible, spill, skeleton, moon, keep, step. Each Sunday a different Wordle is given! Very fun to take up this challenge. Photo credit: Heather Elaine Kitchen
Dear Peter Pan
I need your help,
the crocodile is getting close.
Time just seems to disappear
even on ho hum days.
Please send Tinker Bell
to flit round my head.
I’ll remember then
to think wonderful things.
And the starry sky
outside my window
will look more inviting
when it’s my turn to fly.
lillian
Quickly’s Winter Doldrums Jan 10 Prompt: write an epistolary poem – a poem in the form of a letter.
Happiness Extended
She enjoyed decorating for the season
memories gently removed from tissue paper,
placed about the room.
Christmas cards from years gone by
ornaments of glass and styrofoam
some misshapen, now glitter bare.
Each year’s new wreath carefully selected
artificial greens bedecked in happines
meant to last well beyond her window.
And as Epiphany dawned
she readied herself for church
donned this year’s circle of golden stars.
Her wreath of choice, her Sunday hat.
And she wore the Christmas spirit
well beyond the new year.
In response to the Daily Photo Challenge to let a familiar shape, the circle, inspire you. Poem motivated by photo, taken at the White House December 2015.
Birthday Party
He sat upright
surrounded by canes, walkers
tv guides, checkerboard games,
and the people that accompany them
in a place like this.
He waited patiently
for the last strands of that age-old song,
some high pitched warblers
hunched over the tinny piano
pulled out for occasions like this.
Balloons hovered above his head
as candles dripped life-time moments
onto fondant flowers.
Festive paper plates too thin
for the thick slab he desired.
And so I asked the centenarian
for the secret of his longevity.
Well sonny, I always say,
close your eyes to dream.
Just make sure you open them wide
to watch where you step.
The Older I Get…
the more I like
flat shoes
bare wrists
shaving less
and short lists
and the more I know
the importance of
bran
elevators
family
and short lists
and the more I am thankful
for every day
with you
and the absence of
lists
photo credit: Juan Croatto
AND a Happy New Year to all!
All the World’s a Stage
with apologies to Will Shakespeare
So many footlights burned out
spotlight jarred askew
curtains removed, scrim gone
proscenium arch stands stark.
Program says Act Three,
audience hushed, anticipates tragedy.
Director expects me, in shrouded black,
to slump upon the floor.
The script be damned.
Bulges revealed in sequined leotard,
fish net stockings over varicose veins.
Audience gasps at tapping frenzy
shuffles, wings, and Rockette highs.
Grinning, laughing, I finally decide,
this coda shall end.
And in the pit, the timpani booms
as I exit like a flying dervish
to joyous applause.
Birthing
Aperture in the universe
newborn, idea, or brush stroke
unfolding, release.
Something unknown
outside the well worn crease,
explodes through bland ticks of time
into significance.
A bit of pyrotechnical grandeur
becomes millions of colored lights,
if only we dare to dream.
lillian the home poet 