Iowa Scene

Thirty acres of Iowa farmland surrounded our country house ~ the first home we ever owned. We tended a huge garden, had six apple trees, and rented out the rest of the land to a nearby farmer.

It was a magical place in all seasons. Spring time brought apple blossoms and the sound of tractors moving up and down the fields. Our summer garden overflowed with zucchini while wind-blown sheets flapped on the clothesline. Fall harvest coincided with our consolidated high school’s homecoming parade around town square. Winter storms left corn stalk stubs peeking out from a blanket of white snow. And if we were lucky, we might spy a migrating snowy owl, perched atop the fence post next to our old wooden barn.

blizzard blows in night
red barn awakens to white landscape
snowy owl hoots in delight

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Victoria is hosting Haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. A Haibun is a Japanese form of poetry that includes one or two paragraphs of tight nonfiction prose followed by a haiku that must include a seasonal reference. Today, Victoria tells us how the Japanese associate the Kigo, Fukuroo with the season of winter (Kigo is owl; Fukuroo means the snowy owl). We are to write a haibun about owls. Photo in public domain from pixabay.com

 

Bouquet Me

tulips dip and sway
seasonal ballet
scheming
upcoming soiree
daffodil foreplay
beaming
flower me I pray
utterly risque
gleaming


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today we’re asked to write a Lai: an old form of telling tales – a 9 line poem with an aabaabaab rhyme scheme where the a lines have 5 syllables and the b lines have 2 syllables. I give you a springtime tale of  love!  Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come on over and imbibe some words! 

Twiglet #26

Plants green
bloom beautiful
dry themselves to seed.
Inside-out they sow themselves
to green and bloom again.

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Written for Misky’s Twiglets. Two word prompt given this week, “inside” and “out” to spark a thought, a phrase, a poem. The shorter the better, hence the name twiglet. Photo: taken last year on the Rose Kennedy Greenway in Boston.

Spring Greeting

Windows open to spring,
soft breeze rustles lace curtains.
Backyard crocus peek about
as lawn greens ‘neath lemon sun.
Down comforter billows on clothesline,
and one feather floats gracefully
toward cirrus clouds above.

A_breeze_in_the_curtains

My granddaughter and I are trading poetry prompts each month. For April, she asked that I write a poem using the word “gracefully.” Stella is 10.