springtime convention
birds whisper lessons of life
we need to listen
desert sun leaves diamonds
in unexpected places
sweet summer garlands
sky sketches for me
brush-strokes blend, bend and suspend
where do colours go?
Do you have a poem to share? You are welcome to join us over at dVerse Poets Pub for Open Link Night. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST. It is my pleasure to be your host.
Images: Michelle Beauchamp
blankets of blues
summer in sapphire and teal
I breathe between hues
seven ride the waves
still nuzzled in mother’s wing
paddling seasons past
gliding on thermals
freedom to speak or squawk while
clouds only whisper
It is Open Link Night at
You can link up ONE poem of your choice.
I am your host and hope you will join us. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST
The view is woodsy from my favourite part of the couch. Streetlights are still on as dawn sheepishly reveals itself outside my window. I resent January with it’s epic entrance, bursting with expectations. It falls short in the shadow of Christmas and I see only grey. The dulling pavement of my street is a reflection of the skies above. Neutral and speechless. Blank and waiting. One grey squirrel clambers up and down the giant maple. I tap on the window. He looks at me curiously, then continues on his quest for hidden peanuts. Someone has been feeding him. I admire his fluffy tail and his simple life. My solitude is broken by that car with the noisy muffler and I wonder why Santa or someone similar did not replace it. I take another sip of tea, breathing in the new year.
sun in cloud coma
ashen earth begs for first snow
squirrel pays no mind
It was an early phone call for a Saturday. My brother’s caller ID but not his voice. My mother forced words she could not yet comprehend herself. He was gone. I asked where he went.
moonbeams radiate
October sky remembers
flicker of fallen star
For Quadrille Monday at dVerse. Kim has offered us the word “early” for our 44 word poems. This prompt is open all week.
We grew up here. The soft breezes of summer carry me from our white brick house to this place of solitude. My feet greet the weathered path, making the hollow, tapping sound I so remember. Again I wonder how this hard packed earth can feel like clouds under my feet….but it does. I love the tickle of tall grasses against my bare legs and how the skies match my eyes today. I still marvel at the delicate design of Queen Anne’s Lace as it stands stoic beside red clover. A grasshopper leaps ahead of me, dodging my every step. He has nothing to fear but I cannot resist the urge to pull apart a milkweed. The same silky threads still comfort me. I roll them between my palms and set them free. They dazzle like white satin in sunlight before the greenery embraces them.
My journey curves around a cluster of wild bergamot. I pause to inhale the scent of sweet citrus. Just ahead to the left of the trail I see the large crevice or “crater” as we called it. A place to pretend, when we used to do that. Golden rod bouquets border the path in brilliant yellow. I run my fingers along them as I pass. They seem to be early. Finally I reach the neighbour’s orchard where I once believed swiping a few apples was a major crime. “Run!!”, I remember saying to my brother. He just laughed at me….the way he always did.
nurtured by nature
summer silenced by the fall
some seeds will die young
Written for Haibun Monday
~ dVerse Poets Pub ~
The theme is “Hometown” and I am your host.
Doors open at 3 p.m. EST. Hope to see you there!
An Italian leather notebook sits empty at my bedside. A gift from a dear friend with an encouraging, handwritten message. The sun sneaks through wooden blinds just enough to illuminate dust particles dancing over it. I run my fingers across the engraved designs on the cover that seem to speak of great things to come. I look inside, as if expecting to find something that wasn’t there before. Between each fine line there is silence, words yet to be unraveled in garlands and strokes unique to me. A lovely pen waits for the warmth of my hands, but has lost all hope.
I type to the rhythm of my random thoughts wondering why this has become my only mode of composition. Somehow I have forgotten the crossing of t’s and dotting of i’s. I have left behind the curves and arches, loops and flairs. I have left behind a piece of myself.
frozen river breaks
mallard writes in cursive form
freed by early thaw
Written for Kim’s Haibun Monday. The theme of the prose is “communication through pen or pencil and paper, followed by a traditional Haiku that includes reference to a season.” You can join in too at dVerse Poets Pub. The prompt opens at 3 p.m. EST and is open all week.
There is always a trail, a place to regain pieces of me that I have lost. Today I set out on an unfamiliar path, craving the calm that never fails to elude me. Deep in these woodlands I am shadowed by my own muse. The trees speak to me in wordless ways. One in particular demands my attention and I reach out to caress battle scarred bark, running my fingers along ridges and grooves in silver tones. This is art, sculpted by time and elements. My mind wanders briefly to wonder why something so observable can be so overlooked. The soft percussion of a woodpecker wakens me from my philosophical thoughts. This is music, a sampling of Mother Nature’s sweet song. Looking down, I admire the gnarling of roots planted firmly but not afraid to be exposed and vulnerable. I sit down beside them, letting them take me to seed and soil, the simplicity of life, uninterrupted. I breathe in the essence of pine and become one with the earth.
rosin’ up the boughs
trees burst into silent song
forest floor sun dance
For Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub, Toni (kanzensakura) shares with us some very interesting Japanese techniques for clearing our mind and has asked us to write about our own favourite ways to rest and relax. Drop in, pull up a seat and enjoy some peaceful poetry.
time does not freeze frame
wings not wasted meet the sun
dreams happen in flight
~
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/now/
Candy and I have been working on a project that we would like to call “Collaboration for Peace”. Here is our first creation, combining my photos with her haiku. We hope to spread peace and hope throughout this community of poets. Who is Candy? You can find her at rhymeswithbug.com We are both members of Artists4Peace.
mishunderstood 