Often have I looked your way
when searching for the words to say
what simple words cannot convey.
Seldom have you let me down
when seeking words that lend a sound
of confidence, perhaps profound.
Other times I’ve simply laughed
at words you’ve placed within my drafts,
small lessons in this writing craft.
Dog-eared pages show the way
to all the times I’ve thanked the day
your words were gathered by Roget.
Today is National Thesaurus Day. This poem is my response to Poetics: The Poets Store House, the prompt from Laura Bloomsbury at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to write a poem inspired by the thesaurus.
More Than One Day
The ills that have befallen our world are a direct result of our actions, from discarded waste that would choke the creatures we profess to cherish, to weather conditions that will not improve, no matter how heated the discussions, if nothing is done to change the practices that harm the very air we breathe. We are partners in her course and must turn it in a direction that would cherish nature.
Some will talk of the labors that have brought advances to mankind and ask why we should not enjoy those benefits. If that be your stance, then take a holiday. Just one day. And bring no book, for this one day we’ll give to idleness, mindful that for every day that follows we must accept our responsibility and put forth the effort needed to reverse those ills we have placed upon our world.
This is my response to Prosery: Bring no book! With Prosery, the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction with a 144-word limit (here, exactly 144 words). Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. For this prompt, the line to be included is from”Lines written at a small distance from my house,” by William Wordsworth.
And bring no book; for this one day
We’ll give to idleness
– William Wordsworth
Also shared with earthweal weekly challenge: NATIVE TO THE NOW.
Image source: The Conversation
river at sunset
tendrils woven through the soul
If you want to try magnetic poetry, you can do it online, here.
You can read more of my magnetic poetry here.
Background photo: Niagara Falls, Ontario skyline,
looking across the Niagara River from Buckhorn Island State Park
(click image for larger view in new tab)
Worth scaling any height, comfort found in kinship is no small matter.
A threefold trio of tiny people arrived today, from good friend and artist Claudia McGill, and Rose couldn’t be happier. It’s hard to believe that Rose has been with me for three years. I know she appreciates having some friends from her home world. Claudia is such a creative artist, and it’s an honor to have her tiny people in our home. Thank you, Claudia.
clear moon on cold night
traveler without shelter
shadows walk on snow
This haiku is my response to Colleen’s #Tanka Tuesday
Weekly Poetry Challenge No. 256: Haiku.
the strongest of wills
bends when considering love
matters of the heart
This senryū is my response to
RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge #392,
where the prompt words are bend(ing/s) and heart.
Ripe Tomato at 3 pm
Not a meal, but a Saturday treat.
Heirloom, of course, ripe with memories.
Savoring the process of your hand moving,
slow and smooth, the serrated knife laying
each slice on the bread, each slice layered
with mayo turning pink with juice.
Now held in two hands, that second slice
firmly in place, mayo in a bead, hugging
the crust edge, juice falling to the plate
in languid drops. Eyes closed with each bite,
you relish this simple pleasure.
My pleasure now in recalling this,
bringing you back after so many years
as I take my own bite and savor the memory.
This poem is my response to Poetics Tuesday – food!,
the prompt from Sarah at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.
Image source: washingtonpost.com
Measure the walls.
How many hands?
Enough to hold them
up even as they succumb
to the encroaching darkness?
Or do they close in on us?
Isn’t that the same?
how can we be anything
but alone? That’s not
rhetorical, or even a question.
Dark corners everywhere,
and nowhere to turn,
yet light everywhere,
if we consider ourselves.
We are not.
Our selves are just that.
Ours, to embrace.
To share, more or less.
Less, if we consider
that we are one, not separate.
More, when taken as a whole.
More light in those dark corners.
More hands to hold up the walls
that hold out the darkness,
push them ever outward
eliminating the fringe
while embracing it
as part of the whole.
As a response to a poem by an offline friend, this is a WIP
Shared with OLN #307 – Eat Your Grapes at dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Ashes in the Air
Our county has an open burn season for brush, etc., that runs from the first of November through the first of March, provided high winds are not a factor. Our city does, as well, and resident are encouraged to be considerate of neighbors. In fact, they are encouraged to take broken tree limbs, leaves and brush to the city’s yard waste site where mulch is made available to residents. Why burning is allowed in the city, where up to five houses may be within an acre of land, is beyond me. Even the slightest breeze will carry smoke hundreds of feet. With the mild winters and temperature fluctuations that we have, it’s not unusual to have an occasional fifty to seventy degree day with open windows as an open invitation for that smoke.
smoke slowly rises
as dry leaves and branches burn
ashes in the air
This haibun is my response to Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt
#Challenge 391 BURN(ed/ing/s) and Old.
Image source: 11alive.com
your mate with just a blush of red
never far from your side
in your brilliance
cardinal or otherwise
there is no sin in your presence
This gogyohka is my response to Colleen’s #TankaTuesday Weekly Poetry Challenge No. 255: #Tastetherainbow, in which we are to use the syllabic form of our choice with
a color of our choice.