Leap year Poetic Asides

 

Deadline

 

So yay, we add one more day

to the usual twenty-eight in February.

But I have a deadline on March third,

so I’m missing thirty and thirty-one.

Next year, I hope I remember

not to volunteer to speak in March.

Morning Prayer

 

No Matter the Weather

 

An overcast morning

With promises of rain,

Sleet, snow, sunshine.

 

And I come to You, Lord,

Thanking You for who You are

No matter the weather in our lives.

 

Walk with me today.

May I partner with You

In reaching out to others

Waiting for spring

 

Colorado Spring

 

Mountains rise in ridges.

Snow splatters them with white.

In winter, it happens to be

such a lovely, peaceful sight.

 

But when in spring, snow clouds

look ominous.

The mountains, gray and white,

glare down on us.

 

The geese come in two by two.

The grass begins to green.

But it’s hard to get excited

with the snowy mountain scene.

 

In Colorado spring, we expect snow

to begin our day.

We hope we won’t be shoveling

until the month of May.

Absent Poetic Bloomings

 Absent

 

I’m here,

but I’m there,

in Tuscany,

Among the fields

and mountain ridges.

Rows of vines and olive trees.

Tall thin Italian cypress.

Ancient art, buildings and bridges.

The Tyrrhenian Sea

with houses clinging to the hillside.

Sis and I are planning our next trip,

when we can say,

“We’re here in Tuscany.”

Ekphrasis, from a picture

 Dreaming of a Moment in Tuscany

 

I’m helmeted and on my bike,

On down a gravel road.

Past tall, thin trees of Tuscany,

Wine’s grape vines in long rows.

 

I look out past the grassy fields,

Past ridge and then next ridge.

I pedal to my favorite spot,

An ancient, arched stone bridge.

 

I clamber down the bushy slope,

Stoop by the stony creek.

And skip a stone to the next bank.

I have a fine technique.

 

I breathe in nature’s sweet perfume

And look up to the sky.

And thank the Father for this scene

And praise His name on high.

Get Blank Poetic Asides

 Get Going

 

The morning after

traipsing through the forest

with thirteen kids following,

I sleep in.

 

When I finally

tumble out of bed,

part of my brain still sleeps.

Breakfast appears unappealing.

 

I go forth in slow motion,

like walking through a bog.

I set the timer,

work for a minute.

 

Then two, then three.

Maybe by sometime

in the afternoon,

I’ll get going.

Advice Poetic Bloomings

 

Look Both Ways

 

To my young self, here’s some advice.

You learned it when you were just five.

Before you cross the street, look twice.

And it will help you stay alive.   

Not just at crossing street, you’ll thrive.

But each decision that you make,

Yes, weigh the facts with steps you take.

Each choice today affects the next.

Research and know what is at stake.

Let wisdom bring forth great effects.

Dizain

 Salve! Hello!

 

So Sis and I, made plans for Italy

September is the month that we will go

A writers week retreat in Tuscany

A lot to read so we’ll be in the know

So many towns to see including Rome

We’d like to take a Cinque Terre hike

Perhaps we’ll tour old Florence on a bike

Of course we will see Venice from a boat

There’s many things to do that we might like

I think I’ll take my water-proof pink coat

haiku

 

Lord, I’ve been thinking

I need to make some changes

So, where do I start?

Memories

 

Peering into my past

Like into a hazy crystal ball

Hills, grass, trees, sisters

haiku

 

This psycho weather!

Of six lined up on the couch,

What coat should I wear?

Just for fun

 Poet’s Block

 

I’d like to write a poem

But nothing seems to stick

Starting and stopping

When will ideas click?

 

A scenic ride in Venice

A prayer to the Lord

A new car perhaps

Or something I can afford

 

I can write down what’s around me

Like I’ve often done before

But even that is not appealing

There’s got to be something more

 

I should think of a metaphor

So I’ll surely sound poetic

Can I think of some new insights

Without sounding like a heretic.

 

Perhaps describe my feelings

But that may be too depressing

I can go on and on like this

And keep myself guessing

 

Well as it often happens

As it has done today

I don’t have any ideas

But I write a poem anyway.

Valentine Poetic Asides

 In Celebration

 

Unmarried people often

regard Valentine’s Day

as single-awareness day.

But in celebration of love,

we can also celebrate friendship,

kindness, and love.

 

Elementary teachers have it right

when they have kids bring Valentines

for everyone in the class.

This Valentine’s Day, celebrate

the special people in your life,

even if you’re single or unromantic.

Love Haibun Poetic Bloomings

 Love Poems

 

I don’t like to write love poems. Cause to me love is a hodgepodge of things, quite undefinable. Romantic love, even worse. After forty-four years together, romance seems so long ago. No more flowers, candies or dinner dates. No long talks, hand in hand, along the beach in the summer. No chasing leaves in the fall. No snow ball fights in the winter. No tulip and daffodil bouquets in spring. But we say I love you and mean it.

Romance is foreign

Our love is like an oak tree

Thriving in the North

Story Poetic Asides

 A Weird Dream

 

A writing group I was with

took a trip and stopped for ice cream.

I was sitting at the end,

handy to the server.

 

She gave me the ice cream,

usually a cone,

till the one who ordered it

came and got it.

 

This went on, one cone after another.

 One cone had about 14 scoops, all flavors.

I was glad when that person got theirs

because it was about to topple over.

 

Then I held a fat mint cone

topped with chocolate syrup.

A man came to get it and left,

presumably to pay for it.

 

He didn’t come back.

About ready to eat it myself,

since it was melting over my hand,

I gave it to who I thought was a server.

 

But she was on the trip like me.

I couldn’t remember what I had ordered.

When it came, it was called a fruit cup.

“Did I order this?” I asked.

 

People next to me nodded,

“Yes, you ordered that.”

A tiny thing like you get at the store

with a cardboard pull tab.

 

It was orange sherbet

with a little fruit mixed in.

I asked, “What was I thinking?”

Then I woke up.

 

What could this dream possibly mean?

Do I think I’m shorting myself in life?

Prose Poetic Bloomings

 

Sunday Morning at Jake’s

 

Sometimes when the blank page seems intimidating and my thoughts whirl about me like clothes in a washing machine, I think KISS, keep it simple sweetheart. So I’ll write what’s around me. I’m sitting here, on a Sunday morning at 817 AM. I have 24 minutes until I have to get things ready to get my care givee up at 9:30. He’s a man with autism and requires full-time care. His parents are away at one of their grandchildren’s sporting events. I have to stay here, at their house, because Jake’s routine must be kept as strictly as possible. He likes me and likes to be at my home though I’m not sure why. He listens to the same movie every time he’s at my house, Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Today I drop him off at his church so I can go to mine. He has his own room at his church with a TV and movies. I’m not sure what he watches there. When he is given an opportunity to go to the restroom, he takes a detour and goes into the sanctuary and runs down the aisle right in the middle of Pastor’s sermon and gives him a high five. Pastor very congenially greets him and tells the congregation to say God bless Jake and they do and he runs back out and down to his room. But before I take him to church, I pick up my hubby who will be waiting for me to take him to church. So here as I write my poem in my friend’s beautiful home surrounded by her collections: I love Lucy, old lamps and dolls and decorative plates, photos, and a poem I wrote about prayer, I have just a few minutes, then I have to do everything I need to do in order and perfect timing to get to us all to church by 10:30.

Morning Praise

 I Will Sing

 

I will sing of Your love for me

You, Lord, are my stability

Without You I’d be adrift

Like a balloon in the wind

 

You are my sensibility

So I can sleep peacefully

And like a little child

I will rest in Your hand

joy Poetic Asides

 Read All About It

 

Eyes, eyebrows, cheeks, lips

Joy can be read on the face

Like morning headlines

Bold print, unmistakable

Shining brightly from the heart

Tanka Poetic Bloomings

 

Thank You

 

I’ve been home a while

Now have dreams of Germany

And Italy, too

But thank You God for today

And for my quiet hometown

solemn Poetic Asides

 

Why does an “n” end solemn

Odd as that chap named Gollum

I’ll concede to the “N”

With this poor poet’s pen

If that’s how they want to call ‘em.

descriptive winter words Poetic Bloomings

 Morning Routine

(descriptive words of snow)

 

White light awakens

a sleepy head from slumber.

Bare feet hit the cold floor.

Her walk is more a lumber.

 

She takes some time

for her morning shower.

Now all clean and fresh,

she applies some powder.

 

She tucks the bed’s blanket

neatly in place.

She dresses in jeans

and maybe some lace.

 

The planning begins,

the to-dos, come what may.

Will she walk a slippy slope?

What’s the scoop for the day?

 

She crunches a piece of toast

and an egg or two.

Washes it down with something wet.

And the morning routine is through.

Avoid Poetic Asides

 A Void

 

Your friend mistreated you.

You can avoid them.

But avoiding leaves a void.

Can you fill it with something better?

Or will it be the same thing

in a different package?

Will the void be a gaping hole—

like a missing manhole cover?

Perhaps working it out is the thing.

Guess at PB prompt

 The Snow Out My Front Door

 

The snow out my front door

Intimidates my hearty soul

In order to attend church

Will I shovel in the cold?

 

There’s breakfast to be made

And then shower and get dressed

Can I do it all in time

To clean up this snowy mess?

 

Or will I opt to go back to bed?

Or at least stay inside today

Regardless what I do

I’ll worship and I’ll pray.

Beginning of the year poem

 2024

 

Hello, two thousand twenty-four!

I wonder what you have in store.

Intense, as the year twenty-three?

I’d like a crystal ball to see.

 

Will my two trips proceed as planned?

To Italy and the Deutschland? 

Will I, at last, get website made?

Still work three jobs and still be paid?

 

Will my family still be healthy,

And perhaps a bit more wealthy?

Be more active to my liking?

Ebiking, kayaking, hiking?

 

Will I please the Lord I adore?

Will I play the uke and paint more?

Will I keep my house somewhat clean?

Buy a car online, sight unseen?

 

So with that twenty-twenty-four

To you, and the Lord, I implore

Be good to the folks who I love.

Bring glory to my God above.

Of Course Poetic Asides

 Videography 101

 

We (my niece, her Irish husband,

my traveling sister and I)

rode through the Irish countryside

one Sunday afternoon.

 

We spied a young sheep out of the fence.

Josh stopped the car and Meg jumped out.

As we watched her chase the sheep nearly

to the horizon, we wondered if she’d return.

 

But she somehow turned the sheep around

and they both came running toward us,

my determined niece, with long hair flying

and the panicked wooly sheep.

 

Glad to have video on my new cell phone,

I set the function and followed along.

Josh ran toward them, they grabbed the sheep,

struggling, they heaved it over the fence.

 

A sheep doesn’t land gracefully,

but with a thud and a tumble.

We watched worriedly as it stood up,

and ran off with its friends.

 

That’s when I learned, of course,

you have to push the red record button.  

Last line as first Poetic Bloomings

 Two Walking Companions

 

As my dog and I ended our last walk today,

I couldn’t help but think I’d rather have a cat.

A cat would stay inside the cozy house and play,

but a venturesome dog wouldn’t put up with that.

 

On the other hand, his companionship is great.

And his eyes adore me as if I were his queen.

And it’s as good for me as it is good for him,

to get outside in fresh air and enjoy each scene.

 

The reddish bluffs in the south past an open field,

The small homes huddled midst woodstove smoke to the west,

The Utah mountains in the distance to the north,

and the eastern view of snowy peaks is the best.

 

I take time to think of the blessings God gives me,

and with each step I feel His warm love as I pray.

And I thanked the Lord for my rambunctious smart pup,

as my dog and I ended our last walk today.

 

as my dog and I ended our last walk today. William Preston

Farewell Poetic Bloomings

 Farewell

 

Goodbye, two thousand twenty-three

The most part, you were good to me

Though you gave us quite a bad start

Through son’s bad health of brain and heart

 

But that smoothed out, he’s doing fine

His sister helped him through that time

For months Sis and I planned our trip

Like a block of ice, we did chip

 

Much to plan for France and U.K

We did bit by bit every day

But I renewed my passport late

Received two days before the date

 

Told Sis, May the fourth be with you

And prayed that God would see us through

We toured Paris, Normandy, and

London, Wales and all of Ireland

 

In July, I went to Peru,

A mission trip with much to do

Hot, poor and crowded, kids with smiles

Held sloth, parrot and some reptiles

 

In August, Shannon reunion

In Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

Living it up at a resort

Had lots of fun is my report

 

Our travels weren’t through for the year

Went to retreat with friends so dear

You ended with daughter and son

In Arizona for some fun

 

In between times that I did roam

I took care of our yard and home.

I wrote, spoke and did caregiving

Taught homeschoolers nature living

 

Goodbye, two thousand twenty-three

The most part, you were good to me

Gift Poetic Bloomings

 Special Gifts

 

It’s better to give than receive,

but I like receiving.

Especially, when it’s from someone

who knows me well

and knows what I would like.

 

That speaks volume of what a good friend they are.

I have a friend who generally does not give gifts,

particularly at Christmas.

She doesn’t like the feeling of giving as an obligation.

She can never think of anything for her relatives.

 

The past two years, she has made a Christmas card for me.

She’s an artist and drew her and me

sharing moments that we had together during the year.

What a great gift that is to me.

Those Christmas cards stay up all year around.

 

color Poetic Asides

 Periwinkle and Indigo

 

Periwinkle and indigo

Two of my favorites, this I know

Periwinkle’s full of joy

A bit of hope it does employ

 

Indigo’s a shade of night

A horse and rider taking flight

Indigo is adventurous

Its impact thunderous

 

Indigo and periwinkle

Together they smile and twinkle

Opposites attract they say

Good combo like night and day