Poetic Bloomings Blitz

Past of Me

 

Memories last

Memories past

Past life

Past loves

Loves hurt

Loves strengthen

Strengthen over time

Strengthen with God’s help

Help cousins

Help neighbors

Neighbors next door

Neighbors in the woods

Woods all around

Woods to hide secrets

Secrets in the diary

Secrets to share

Share and laugh

Share and play

Play outside

Play all day

Day in school

Daylight

Light on your feet

Light as snow

Snowmen

Snow fights

Fights with sisters

Fights with friends

Friends at lunch

Friends stay over

Over the creek

Over the moon

Moon light walks

Moon in October

October beauty

October birthday

Birthday supper

Birthday presents

Presents useful

Presents funny

Funny jokes

Funny folks

Folks dance

Folks smile

Smile awhile

Smile at me

Me, myself and I

Me oh my

My

I

 

Expectations

 

A caterpillar

On a leaf

Munching away

Oblivious

No hopes of ever becoming anything

Until
A struggle

A breakthrough

Wings!

An Alouette

I have writing time

To create a rhyme.

But I just have four minutes.

Quickly as a kiss,

I come up with this.

Just fun, no meaning, in it!

Poetic Bloomings: Hang out

Shannon Creek Park

(L’Arora)

 

Hidden in a wooded valley, Shannon Creek Park.

A hand-drawn swimsuit-clad woman welcomed you

and on occasions, a country band played.

Pappap owned the park, but my parents ran the place—

Pavilions (one red and one blue shingled on each side of the creek),

log coke stand, two outhouses, softball field, horseshoe pit,

swing set, swimming hole and fishing dam, where my sis fell in.
"Dad got her out before she got wet," they exaggerated a bit

The coke stand housed a cooler for pop: cola, rootbeer,

orange, cherry, grape  and a freezer for ice cream treats:

Captain Crunch, Nutty Buddies and five-cent Popcicles.

I’d play with ridged bottle caps as Mum waited on customers

and follow her along as she cleaned the outhouses.

The boys’ rest room was a rustic one-seater, and across the way

the girls’ was a solidly built two-seater with a dressing room.
In the creek, I splashed around with new playmates each day.

I was about six when the park closed, the swim hole drained,

leaving the little creek to run through freely.

A stranger bought the land with the dam and built a house.

We girls claimed the large outhouse, poured lime down the holes,

turned the two-seater into a couch and tore out the partition.

We did odd-jobs around the neighborhood to fund our band,

The Sunflowers. We put on plays, crocheted crafts,

and played pretend games on the abandoned land.

When we got older, it still served as a hang out.

We’d push each other in the creek and discovered who liked who.

We took long walks with our boyfriends

or found cozy corners in the pavilions or the coke stand.

During moody times, I’d go up to that quiet place
sit on the bridge and watch the water rush past.

At the park, we worked, played, celebrated, discovered,

making many memories that would last.  

Halloween ABC Tankas

Halloween 

Autumn brilliance thrives

Blowing wind dances with leaves

Crackles underfoot

Dropping apples bop on heads

Evil smiles glow come nighttime  

Falling leaves pile up

Gorgeous colors cover hills

Halloween candy

Imagination abounds 

Jumping in tall piles of leaves  

Keeping up with kids

Laughing, breathing in cool air

Moon casting shadows

Nighttime noises spooking folks

Orange pumpkins wait in great fields  

Pumpkin pies line up

Quaint autumn wreaths grace front doors

Racing down sidewalks

Satiny costumes swishing

Tangy, tickling, earthy air

Ugly masks show eyes

Victorious old heroes

Witches and broomsticks

eXcited chocolate nibblers

Youth abuzz in orange and black

 

Zesty apple cider—yum!

Fibonacci

Cat

Sit!

Moving

Meowing

Brushing against me

Trying to sit on my lap top

Fidgeting, squirming, turning around, tail in my face

At last, sitting prettily by my side, eyes half closed, purring. Now, I hate to move her.

Chant poem

Moving Forward 

A Chevy chugged up the mountain.

Moving forward is all that matters.
Kids clamored in the back seat.
Moving forward is all that matters.
Snow piled near treacherous curves.
Moving forward is all that matters.

She took the trip several times.

Moving forward is all that matters.
Her parents gone, her kids moved out.
Moving forward is all that matters.
She put her hand in her husband’s.
Moving forward is all that matters.

PA prompt chant

Ready Me to Receive

 

Do I make it hard for You to answer my prayers?

Ready me to receive.

Do I believe I am unworthy to succeed?

Ready to me to receive.

In my hiding from rejection, do I miss out on acceptance?

Ready me to receive.

Do I have a victim’s mindset, feeling unfamiliar to victory?

Ready me to receive.

Am I so accustomed to ugliness, beauty brings pain?

Ready me to receive.

Do I have a poverty mentality, repelling financial blessings?

Ready me to receive.

Am I so used to depression, joy feels extravagant?

Ready me to receive.

Am I so frightened, I don’t hear Your calling for me?

Ready me to receive.

Do I complain so much, praise is a foreign language?

Ready me to receive.

God You are a joyful giver, a loving Father.

Ready me to receive.

Mercy

A tall, rough man with weathered skin,

Alert eyes, easy smile, and in

So many scrapes, trials and hard times,

Each person receives a fair shake

Though it may more than likely take 

Forgiveness in various climes—

The undeserving and the fools

The lowly and breakers of rules,

In love and acceptance joy chimes.

chant poem Colorado

Colorado Autumn

Clouds few, sky brilliant blue

Aspen shimmer in golden glory

Evergreens bold against the gold

Aspen shimmer in golden glory
Alight, mountains tipped white
Aspen shimmer in golden glory

Air crisp, wood smoke wisp

Aspen shimmer in golden glory

Robins fled, oak purplish-red

Aspen shimmer in golden glory

Jonathans tart, orange pumpkin art

Aspen shimmer in golden glory

Poetic Bloomings Prompt Mom

Ginny

 

H umble? Yes, mostly. But she did like to don swimsuit, negligee or dress to take pictures.

E nergetic? Yes, but never understood, “Get up and work!” didn’t inspire us.

L oving? Always. She cared for everyone she met, often writing to them for years.

E nthusiastc? Mostly about housework and family, especially her husband of fifty years.

N eurotic? In her later years she was preoccupied with sickness, always thinking the worst.

 

V ictorious? I think she stands before God and hears, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

I maginative? Yes, she painted flowers on papers plates and wrote hundreds of poems.

R eligious? Both in the common and pure meaning of the word.

G orgeous? Yes, black hair, brown eyes, legs that once won an award in high school.

I nteresting? She was a city girl who loved a country husband, sort of like Lisa on Green Acres.

N urturing? Maybe overly so. She wouldn’t rest, even on vacations.

I nventive?  Yes. She made instant hot chocolate before it came out, calling it quicky cocoa.  

A dventurous? Somewhat. She’d be up for anything Dad wanted her to do, such as hunting.

 

H elpful? Always. Even when she was busy raising five daughters.

U nderstanding? Mostly, but she didn’t seem to get her children’s problems were real to us.

R eliable? Yes. Meals were at 7, 12 and 4 and she was always there when we came home.

S ister? She had two brothers and three sisters, all but one lived in our area.

T hankful? Yes and she’d say so often.

 

S acrificial? She always put her family first. One time she tore up good sheets for tomato ties.

H opeful? Maybe overly so. One sister called her “the Queen of Denial”.

A miable? Yes, she enjoyed visiting with friends and strangers alike.

N otorious photographer? She took pictures of everyone including solicitors and salesmen.

N imble? For the longest time she could do cartwheels in the yard.

O pinionated? Mostly she kept her opinions to herself, except for writing to the president.

N ice? Always.

Pun-ku

Shoe Shopping

Tom wore nineteens

He searched forty days

Found in Mesquite

Yes, quite the feat

pun-ku

Harry’s Haircut  

Cuts on special

Buzz clippers sounded   

Wife was appalled

And Harry bawled

A Sonnet

Created to Praise

Beneath the layers of hair, skin and skull

Concealed in soft gray matter of the brain

Synapses firing thoughts both bright and dull

Stir abilities to choose or refrain 

Are we merely chemicals in a bag,

With biodegradable working parts,

That as we grow old, break, wear out and sag?

Just masses of lungs, livers, kidney’s, hearts? 

Or made in image of Creator God,

Eternal souls designed for purpose here?

And though we’re sinful, willful, weak and flawed

Created to worship with reverent fear? 

God loved the world so much He sent His Son

And we can choose to be with Him as one

 

 

Poetic Asides Answer to a question

 How Was Your Trip?

Short answer. Fine, I had a wonderful time.

I’ll leave out the parts about the flight delay,

the deep conversation with a nephew,

doing dishes for three hours after a family supper,

helping a nervous mother of the groom

by preventing her tags from showing,

attending an outdoor wedding with

PJs under my dress to keep warm,

seeing my great nephew and niece

being cuter than all others carrying

a Here Comes the Bride sign,

watching my nephew and bride exchange I dos

while the bridesmaids turned blue,

dancing for the first time in a long while

to Monster Mash and I Believe in Miracles,

pinching myself to stay awake at church,

seeing my sister cry ten months

after her husband died, going to Taken Two

with my sisters and brother-in-law,

stuffing myself with pizza and lasagna,

breakfasting with a friend I hadn’t seen for thirty years,

meeting my sister’s friend and her dogs,

helping sisters and nieces clean out a farm house,

eating some kind of thing with green stuff,

playing Canasta and Scrabble half asleep,

being adopted by a cat and chased by a goat,

sitting by a frightened teenager on flight home,

getting enthusiastic greetings from my family.

So, fine thank you, had a wonderful trip.

Kitty’s ears like two mountains with a valley in between

Head and body like rolling hills
Calico fur slanted like ferns in the breeze

Sijo

Autumn’s looking lovely lavishly dressed in golds, oranges, reds

But flaming colors snuff out quickly, giving way to whites and grays

Seasons strut their stylish stuff, each displaying its own beauty

Poetic Bloomings Chores

Indoor/Outdoor Chores 

Cooking

Cleaning

Scrubbing

Ironing

Hanging clothes on racks indoors

Those were chores I hated. 

But planting

Picking

Mowing

Raking

Hanging clothes on lines outdoors

Those were chores I liked.

Poetic Bloomings InForm Carpe Diem

Little Things

 

How shall I seize this day,

When I’m tied to tedium?

Seems like there’s no highs or lows.

Life’s set on medium. 

So I’m like a metronome

Plodding out my time,

Setting about the dailies

Far from the sublime. 

But wait, God is near

Sublime to the max.

Don’t need a telephone,

Computer or fax. 

Just a whispered prayer

Directed up above.

And he responds personally

In His eternal love.

His Spirit assures me

And my heart sings,

Till I see adventure

In even the little things.

 

 

 

October 12, 2012 Friday First Line by Robert Lee Brewer

My Bed is a Planet

My bed is a planet peopled by

my cat and me. Other planets

spin by but she curls up on my lap

next to my computer and she and I

explore the universe.

 

 

 

October 11, 2012 Thursday First Line by Robert Lee Brewer

Spinning to the End 

The world, a helicopter seed spinning,

out of control, but in somewhat of a pattern,

a bit graceful, but definitely landing.

Round and round we go, not knowing

when and where it will stop but we know

it will stop. Will we be ready or crushed

underfoot like a dry helicopter seed?

October 10, 2012 Poetic Asides Prompt First Line by Robert Lee Brewer

Better Views 

Trees hide the better views,

so they say, but I say

trees are the views—

tall thick oaks like beloved grandfathers

lovely golden aspens shaking castanets

weeping willows swaying like hula dancers

cottonwoods with seeded fluff like children blowing bubbles

pine trees, ever green and pointing up, godly reminders,

poplars, maples, elm, tulip, hickory, birch, ash, larkspur—

all lovely views within themselves. See, really see, the trees.

 

 

October 9, 2012 First line by Robert Lee Brewer

Ready on the Set 

I’m not sure who I am or what I want.

Sometimes it feels like I’m an actor

in a bad movie, eager for a new one.

Sometimes it feels like I’m directing

my own movie, but everyone has forgotten

their lines. Sometimes it feels like

the commercial break—time to turn down

the volume, get a snack and wait

for something interesting to happen.

But sometimes I feel like the spunky,

driven protagonist, giving it all I’ve got,

knowing the end will turn out well.