What she did so long ago, Or didn’t do, we now don’t know. She tripped some dudes and others who With twisted true-false love were bled. By some stone of one marked dead she stopped When all that no one knows of her was through.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Laura Bloomsbury offers the challenge to imagine the life of a deceased person. I imagined the lady in Longfellow’s In the Churchyard at Cambridge.
Oh how wicked fast these ancient lizards run. Do they love this rainy weather like I do - Crash and freaky lightning, rainbow when it’s done? Seeing makes us pause our steps. Who will go through? Phone in hand, he waits to let me take some shots. Off he pounces under plants with water blue.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Sarah is hosting with the theme of rain.
Also linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar. It is the last hour of the prompt where I am hosting on the theme of tercets.
So many rooms I used to know They all had much I miss. Their windows, floors and doors would flow With breathing just like this.
Linked to dVerse Poetics. Laura Bloomsbury is hosting with the theme of “rooms”.
A portal really is a door, A hole in solid wall. A window shows us somewhat more, But there is nothing like a door To make us stand up tall. Of course, we have to open it. Oh, how we love the chair. The monitor suggests we sit. The door insists we open it And wander on out there.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Anmol is hosting with the theme of portals.
In solitude I’m not alone. Memories stay near. Regrets have often held my mind. Joy as well I also find. Sweet turning made ways clear.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Bjorn is hosting with the theme of “solitude”.
Though not the sort of Gods that I Would bother to believe in, They raise their silence to the sky Rejecting useless reasons why Without pretending they can fly Point edges up uneven. From a distance they look small And red against the range. They shock me. What was once so tall Stands dwarfed as nothing much at all. What rose majestic seemed to fall Where wind and rain bring change. Mountain heights may help me see. Foothills praise more modestly.
Liked to dVerse Poetics where Lillian is hosting with the theme of describing a place we can travel to in our minds during in this lockdown.
The top photo I took from within this beautiful and well-maintained park. I took the bottom photo at Palmer Park a few miles away. At the top of the photo just right, off-center, below the mountain range are these unusual rock formations called the Garden of the Gods.
There’s order somewhere in this garden space. I tuck the sheets and toss the blanket tight. I wash the dishes daily, wipe my face To carry with me courage for the night. Dreams help order what I ought to do Summarizing stuff with morning light. Today there may be some I shall get through! I’ll plant them. Watch them grow and check their height. This all depends on trust. That’s hard to find. I know that if I did this on my own I’d often go astray or fall behind. Who is that hoeing offering his aid? I tend to think I’m on this walk alone, But we’re both planting dreams though some may fade.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Laura Bloomsbury offers the theme of “order” featuring Elizabeth Jennings. My poem is based on thinking about Jennings’ sonnet The Garden. I took the photos some time ago with different seasonal views of the Chicago Botanic Garden.
One hundred years like one have wiped away The former present from this ancient past. There’s haunting mixed with fragile peace today That spreads with some wild wind and travels fast. We wonder how long all of this will last. May somewhere, fresh with time, there be a place Where I can pause concern to kiss your face.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Bjorn is hosting with the theme of “plague, pestilence, and pandemic”.
On Thursday I will feature poems with seven lines. They don’t have to be Chaucerian stanzas as this one is. The only constraint will be that the poems have seven lines.
I found the following link to Barbara Steisand singing Somewhere on the KATiE MiA FredericK!iI blog. It lifted my spirits and so I am passing it on.
When I do things my own way My deeds stain red like blood. Watchful mercy passes by Avoiding me when I ask why Justice flushes with a flood. Repentance is another choice. Is that what I see? By giving up, by giving in, By turning sharply from within Mercy left a raft for me.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where SarahSouthWest is hosting with the theme of “red”.
Failures come. They clear the table, Wipe the surface clean. In the distance, true and stable, Something new is seen. What I thought could never be Is now the only way I see.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Mish is hosting with the theme based on a quote from the 17th century poet Mizuta Masahide: “Barn’s burnt down, now I can see the moon.”
Also linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar. I am hosting with the theme of final couplets – any poem with a couplet at the end.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 