Still another sijo

It’s the writing life for me, my computer is my friend.

I tap the keys, write what I please, until the story’s end.

And when it’s all nice and neat, I make a wish and hit send. 

Another Sijo

Hollow feelings pass through tip to toe, again and again.

Passing through with shivers of dread and anguish. O anguish!

Hearing my sister’s gasps and sobs, I know. I know. “Who?” I ask.

Sijo again

Rain poured down, creek ran high, July, nineteen seventy seven.

Next day, Dad checked his minnow trap. Geegosh! It had washed away!

Felt foolish, when he learned seventy-eight souls washed away as well. 

Sijo 2

Tiny sparks, scraps of tinder, a gentle wind, bright licking flame

Extending, lapping, growing, turning into a roaring fire

Friendly smile, a sincere handshake, welcoming eyes, well wishes 

Sijo

In God’s love, lie’s acceptance, hope, joy, through His Son Jesus

Like a bridge from a temporal world to an eternal planet

Yes, we follow the narrow way, but we’re not narrow-minded 

Poetic Asides Stress

Growing Roots

Like a tree needs

a certain amount of drought

to dig its roots down deep,

we need an allotment of

company coming over,

floors to be scrubbed,

children to be fed,

articles due,

publisher rejections,

contests lost,

pounds gained,

climbing crumbly cliffs,

bruised knees,

aches and pains,

flat tires,

money woes,

spousal arguments,

getting lost in the city,

because like an over-watered tree

boredom can kill you. 

abcb, 9 syllables, bum ba bum

The Great Outdoors

In the country where we kids grew up

I remember games we used to play

Statue, four square, acting out the shows

Sardines, hide and seek, outdoors all day

Splashing in the creek, and riding bikes

Sliding down the hills in winter time

Chasing lightning bugs and catching frogs

Finding tall and branchy trees to climb

It’s no wonder that when I’m indoors

Bright blue skies will beckon me to come

Wind, so fresh and sweet, whispers my name

Till I leave the confines of my home