In the heart of autumn
I watch the thunderheads
Shading skies in charcoal
As retro rain of spring
Spits in rebellious spurts
Does it hurt to be compliant
And follow season’s rule-book?
Or is Mother Nature bored
Tired of the yuck of it all
For De’s Quadrille prompt over at dVerse Poets Pub. You can “Q” it too!
Just write a poem of 44 words, sans title, including the word “yuck”.
Image credit: pixabay.com
Sunflower stuns in season’s end
Transparent as secrets of summer
Undeniable beauty bows to earth
Vowing warily to return again
Woodpecker chuckles between mouthfuls
Xiphoid petals wilt and wonder
Lillian is hosting “Meeting the Bar” at dVerse.
She has asked us to write an “alphabet sestet” using a six letter sequence.
Feel free to join in!
In response to The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Tour Guide
Welcome to a small town in southwestern Ontario, Canada. These are only two of our distinct and unique seasons.
Strong winds + bitter temperatures + river = masterpiece.
Sunset over lake + para-sail + sense of adventure = summer solitude.
It’s a short drive to the park. Winter has made a whimsical return as if to poke fun at Spring. Snow powdered trees appear to float in rainwater lagoons. I throw my daydreams into placid pools and wish for sunlight. In the foreground, flakes fall melting instantly on a glass stage. In the distance, they unite to soften the woods with a whitewash. This portrait is life, mirrored and stilled by the indecisiveness of Mother Nature. I join in reflections of branches blurred and blended, losing myself in the scene.
Seasonal squabble
Geese ponder their homeward flight
Nature simply paints
Björn leads our Haibun Monday this week. He explains two techniques, “ekphrasis” and “haiga” as we combine art and poetry.
My little maple
Of glistening gold
Flaunting, fluttering as
Sol sister laughs
She knows wind is only
Teasing, breezing by for
One last kiss of autumn
The final dance before
The chill and I will
Cherish your leaves
As fall still breathes
Through winter
It’s Quadrille time again and we’d love for you to join us over at dVerse Poets Pub. As your host, I am asking you to write a poem of 44 words (not including the title) and your quadrille must contain the word…
b…r…e…a…t…h…e
or breath, breathtaking, breathable…any variation of the word
Doors open at 3 p.m. EST
My days have suddenly become empty. Disconnected. As my feet take to the path along the pond, I am immediately transported to a better world, a wiser system of life. I am guided by the goldenrod that edges the marsh, layered by clouds that whisper October. Distant sounds of the highway become muffled and soon forgotten. My haven is solid. The sun starts to melt on the horizon, pouring liquid gold ripples across the water. They reach for me. I reach for my camera. As I look through my lens, a large swarm of gnats dance against the glow and I wonder how these lowly beggarly bugs can possibly steal the show…but they do. Hundreds of starlings arrive in what seems to be chaotic confusion, contrasting with their precision landings on swaying reeds. I start to climb the rickety wooden lookout and again curse at the park for not replacing the missing step. There must be other people like me that don’t like missing steps. Perched and ready, I wait for the geese, my constant. Usually the honking is outrageously loud as they begin their dissension, but I hear nothing but a few lonesome tootles. I wonder if they’ve found a new venue and why. The sun lays itself over the pond to bid farewell. Clouds become fuchsia pink feathers, a delicate distraction as the night sky slowly envelopes me. I question my instinct to leave. Am I afraid of the darkness even in the comfort of this paradise?
autumn winds waver
memories fade on still waters
sun dips into dusk
Written for “Haibun Monday: Winds of Change” led by Toni Spencer (kanzensakura)
Join us at dVerse Poets Pub
In the changing seasons, Candy and I wish you hope and peace…
Miniature ice bergs stubbornly hold on to winter as Lake Huron welcomes Spring. The Great Lakes are a massive stage for seasonal transitions.
This photo was my contribution for The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge.
A contrast to my first submission, the endless white of snow reaches for the horizon on one of the Great Lakes. This will soon be the scene at the beach as we bid farewell to the warm blue waters of summer. Just thinking about it makes me very grateful for autumn.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/monochromatic/
Give me those dog days of summer
Hot spells, cotton candy skin
Sweet corn, salt and peppered
Butter dripping down chins
It beats those ice crackling
Snow shoveling minus 20 winds
Show me your plum pickin’
Rib stickin’ watermelon grin
I’ll dip my tutti frutti toes
In nippy waters, shin deep
Sketch my dreams in the sand
Before sailing off to sleep
~
Trees are my muse. I am overwhelmed by their beauty, individualism and stature. Their history intrigues me. As Mother Nature sculpts and paints them with her elements, I have the easy part. Be amazed. Point and shoot.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/muse/
Dear Winter,
We regret to inform you
That your services are
No longer required or desired
And we are tired
Of your blustery behaviour
Insubordinations have been noted
Refusing to exit before spring
Violating seasonal policies
And confronting Mother Nature
After she politely released you
Sassing back will not be tolerated
Be it hail, slush or sleet
We need heat
Which is definitely not your forte
We find your hexagon flakes
No longer enchanting
It seems that you are stuck
In a stationary front
Indecisive of your intentions
According to our almanac
Your departure is past due
Therefore a two week notice
Will not be necessary
Please gather all of your accumulations
And leave quietly
You can take the white out
We would be happy
To send a letter of reference
To Mr. J. Frost
Sincerely
Summer Loving People, Inc.
We’re writing letters at the pub tonight!
http://dversepoets.com/2015/04/07/poetics-lets-write-letters/
This gallery contains 5 photos.
One of the wonderful perks of living in Ontario is the ability to welcome and bid farewell to four distinct seasons. It encourages you to live in the moment and appreciate the obvious and not so obvious metamorphosis that takes place. Winter? It’s all a blur to me now. Check out more of it at […]
Rising up, inhaling leaves
Exhaling with vengeance
Flimsy, unattended branches
Whipping at my tattered roof
Darkness surrounds me
Other than this trusty monitor
Sharing it’s light
As if to comfort me
While this raging force
Sweeps up my sense of security
I hate this storm
This storm called Sandy
Rising up, inhaling my fears
Exhaling with flippant attitude
Taking power from my hands
And dangling my safety
Like a twig left hanging precariously
From my beloved maple tree
The haunting, taunting noise
Bellows up, down, billows around
My tiny glowing haven
Enough to make me cringe
At the mindless power of wind
I hate this storm
This storm called Sandy
Over at dVerse today, MarinaSofia asked us to write about a time when we were “snowed in, iced out or in some other perilous winter situation”. Ironically, that was yesterday for me. We are still shoveling ourselves out. However, this particular piece was written in October 2012 when I actually feared for my home and my personal safety.
This carpet of green
Has been rolled out for you
Trees bare but not broken
Stand tall to support you
Applauding your entrance
To life
Winter waves its arms
Blowing white smoke
Outside my door
Rattling the latch
As we batten down the hatch
Snow squalls
Life stalls
Tires spin tales
Of neglected snow shovels
Underestimated forecasts
And unhelpful neighbours
~
Winter smirks as you
Predictably marvel
At what you’ve seen
So many times
Muddled and mystified by
Sparkling glaze
Blinding haze
Shadows sprawled
Over welcoming, white canvass
Trees bound and burdened
With nature’s business
I can dream of Spring
Faith of the future
Life reborn
Victorious in its battle
With borealis
Eyes closed
This warm wind
Will simmer my soul
Shed light on my thoughts
Refurbish my being
Eyes open
These colours
Will bleed into me
Open my heart again
Sing to me new verses
Of hope and vitality
Before I die
I want to show all my colours
No secrets concealed
Like a leaf in the sun, aglow
An extension of life
Weightless of all regrets
Reflecting hues and memories
Shades of pain and joy
Tints and tones of all I am
Ready to float freely
For one last dance
With the wind
mishunderstood 