Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Wednesday December 8, 2010Mag #44/We Write Poetry/ Poetic Asides/Wednesday Poetry/ Three Word Wednesday

Prompt #113: Write a poem about a generalized group.

A hermit is what I am,
Free to move about,
Free to work
I don't wait for orders,
To be posted on the board.

I form my own thoughts,
At times I ask you to take a look,
Want to know if I'm still on the rails,
Or am I now, bumping along beside
The road, off the path,

Sometimes I need you,
Just to bounce ideas back and forth.
Then back in the studio alone,
I formulate my thoughts,
I create.

Get out my ruler,
Pencils and pens,
Make a sketch,
Choose brushes and paint.
I create.

In the beginning,
I didn't know,
Now, I'm more clear,
It takes a long time,
To become --
It is the journey of a lifetime.


The prompt was;judge, nightfall, safety

Safety is an illusion,
We are never safe really,
If there is someone,
Who wants to hurt you,
They probably will,
What can you do?
Should you hide under the bed?
Should you run away?
Maybe, a course in martial arts?

You judge the path ahead,
It looks safe,
Until nightfall,
All bets are off,
You are never really safe,
Should you be afraid?

And what is to fear after all?
It's really death,
When you get right down to it.
And still it is the destination of the living,
We'll all die one day.

Perhaps it's not so bad,
It is our job,
To live each day to the fullest,
So on the day,
Death knocks on our door,
We'll be ready,
Greet him as our friend,
Open the door and let him in.

Dedicated to Elizabeth Edwards.
Who died December 7, 2010

We Write Poems
Prompt #21 Love

Love isn't an easy thing to describe,
There are many forms,
And these can be split again into,
As many stars as there are in the sky.

But in the heart there is only one love,
We see a child,
We call it love,
A flower, same thing.

It is told in an Eastern myth,
The child is born,
With a red cord,
Connected to the one he will love.

It is up to him to follow his heart,
To follow the cord,
To follow the red,
To find the one waiting,
Before he is dead.


Mag #44

A Snow Sled
My experience of a sled is limited,
Something to found only in dreams,
Of course, I saw pictures,
But where I lived it was warm and balmy,
There may have been one,
Brought there from colder climes,
Tucked away in a garage,

In hopes children's dreams would
One day be answered.
But if so I didn't know,
We loved roller skates,
And on hot Friday night,
We would meet at the rink,
To go around as fast as we could,
Slicing the warm night air.
But if there were any sleds,
They had to wait,
Perhaps they also dreamed of snow.


Jinksy said...

Your poem above entitled Love brought tears to my eyes - thank you!
As for your Mag # 44 - sleds were never part of my world,either! :)

Leah said...

LOVE your Magpie Tale. Such a powerful second stanza!!

Suz said...

oh delightful Annell

kathew said...

nicely could always go and seek out snow and a sled!

SandyCarlson said...

Your poems are amazing. The first one is a great look into the creative process.

Mary said...

Oh, Annell, sometimes I forget that sleds were not a part of everyone's growing-up worlds. I would guess that people in Hawaii or California also find it hard to believe that people grew up without knowledge of how to use surfboards.

I do have memories of the roller rink. I visited one in high school, and when I taught visited them with my grade school students. I don't know how popular they are right now; but, I do think each of us has our own childhood nostalgia.

Your poem caused me to reflect on mine!

Reflections said...

Love the illusion and possibility of a sled dreaming of snow.

Trellissimo said...

But if there were any sleds,
They had to wait,
Perhaps they also dreamed of snow.

I can honestly say, snow is one thing I've never dreamed about - it would be my nightmare!

Tess Kincaid said...

Excellent Magpie, Annell. Wonderful last line. Snow is such a part of me, I can't imagine living without it.

jaerose said...

Hi Annell, I like the idea of straying from the path now and again (well, always really..with a firm foot, your path becomes a new way)..your safety poem really conveyed the harried feeling of never feeling safe..the last verse however offered us some comfort and was a beautiful dedication..Jae

gautami tripathy said...

What a treat! To read so many poems...

who hid that story for us to find

Jingle said...

brilliant, so many prompts together.
well done,

Brian Miller said...

nice...lots to play with here...i resonate completely with the first one...just making sure i am still on the rails...smiles.

Helen said...

... and as always I'm blown away by your creativity!

hedgewitch said...

Very nicely done, all four poems. This one's a very apt take on the prompt, but I think your second is my personal fave. At some point, fear needs to be irrelevant because safety is at bottom just a comforting illusion.

Tumblewords: said...

I was lucky enough to experience both - sledding and rollerskating at the rink! This is a lovely poem, full of imagery and delight!