Relationships

A Sign of the Times

lillian49 Comments

Day after day, he stacked the mail
catalogues, ads, all on the steps
in rain and sleet, and snow and hail.

So I sat by the window, waiting one day
caught him as he was walking away,
and queried him nicely. Why?

Why don’t you use the LETTERS slot
that’s right on the door, quite plain to see.
He stared and looked blankly at me.

“Well ma’am, I see the sign on your door
capital block letters, all in blue,
and that little slot thing too.

But I have no idea what LETTERS means
and the slot’s too narrow to ever fit
all this important stuff you get.”

Ping.

“Excuse me ma’am,”
the young man said with a grin,
“That’s an important text coming in.”

 

architecture-1866830_1920

Mish is hosting Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. She asks us to write a poem about signs. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Stop by and join in the fun! Photo in public domain.

My Dad

lillian49 Comments

My dad was a quiet man. He wasn’t an exuberant fan of any pro or local sports teams. But I do remember him sitting on our fake leather hide-a-bed couch, watching Cubs games on our blonde console TV. Televisions in those days were cumbersome pieces of furniture. My mother stacked Readers Digests on top of ours.

I never saw my dad swing a baseball bat, but he wielded a mean croquet mallet. It sent many a competitor’s wooden ball sailing into our neighbor’s yard. And rather than joining the popular winter bowling leagues, he stayed late after work, one night a week, competing in a checkers club. He also loved pinochle and rummy. He taught me all these games, using very few words. And he never let me win — until I really did. I never participated in sports. But I did become a high school and college debater. I wonder how much the man of few words had to do with that?

tall oak canopy
acorn roots itself below
reaches for new heights

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Haibun written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Bjorn asks us to write about sport. A haibun is a piece of prose (cannot be fiction) followed by a haiku. Generally, the haiku must be about nature.

 

Helen Cecile

lillian48 Comments

Discombobulized,
she was like that.

Wound up tight tremors,
taut sprockets of the mind.

Spring-like nerves compressed
temper flares spewed.

Church hands folded, twitched, 
flailed by noon.

Even keel sailing
turned runaway train.

Expect the unexpected,
she was like that.


Kim is hosting today’s quadrille ( a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title) at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, and asks us to use the word “spring.” Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us! 

A Sharp Little Ditty

lillian61 Comments

Harrison Hedgehog
all a dither
in a quiver,
over Patty Porcupine. 

How to propose?
The poetic one,
undone,
by a prickly giggly gal. 

A note, inside a balloon,
a quadrille.
Then with her own quill,
Patty will pop the question!


It’s Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. De is tending bar and asks us to giggle today 😊. Forty-four words, not including the title, that include the word “giggle.”  I figure in our crazy world, it’s a good day for a silly little ditty! Photo is of Harrison Hedgehog,  in public domain.  

Dysfunctional

lillian4 Comments

He tied her in knots with a string of tales.
Flew her like a kite, jerking the lead,
back and forth in tormenting winds.
Strung her along, tethered to rocky shoals,
until his nots became a strangle hold.

Every Tuesday, Misky posts a Twiglet: a short phrase, a word; to prompt a thought, a flow, a memory. Twiglet #11 is the phrase “with a string.” Art from Wikiart: Nude Young Woman by Giorgione, 1508.

Sea Glass Beatitude

lillian1 Comment

Shards tumbled, churned.
Misshapened shapes
amber, green, clear.
Once broken, glint in sun
smoothed by roiling seas.

Are these but reminders
of those who washed ashore?
See me. Know me.
Value lies
in that which is made anew.

IMG_3478

Bermuda sea glass. Bermuda was originally an uninhabited island. All Bermudians are either immigrants or descendants of immigrants. There are no indigenous peoples.

Ode to an Anniversary

lillian41 Comments

We’ve travelled together
through all these years
hand in hand, even apart,
exploring each twist and turn.

So much of our story behind us now,
turned down corners on favorite pages.
Still, we walk on, more slowly perhaps,
wizened bodies and fuller hearts.

Listen my love
as we choose our next path,
to these words I quietly say.
Thank you time, thank you you,
for this and every day.


Today Mish hosts dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. She interviews Ally R Saunders, a talented artist who spent most of her life in Nanaimo, includes some of her paintings and leads us to her website. I chose her painting Many Paths as the muse for today’s post. (My 47th anniversary is February 7 and Kim at dVerse just celebrated her anniversary)  dVerse opens with this prompt at 3 PM Boston time.