Sunday, August 7, 2016

August 7, 2016 The Sunday Whirl -- Sunday's Whirligig -- Poets United/ Forgotten Contents

Forgotten Contents


a long time ago       in a far away place where              yesterday is tomorrow

tomorrow could be any day      and today never comes          wishes are made

on the wings of fireflies      sparkle all night long      put away for safe keeping

holes punched in the lid       and the lid put on tight            ...contents forgotten



you point to a place high on the mountain            you tell me timber grows there

we watch for the smoke to rise      to fill a summer day           blue skies turn gray

you chew a sprig of mint    twist it between your fingers     hold it under your nose

the smell of mint holds all your memories of other days... in far away places



flames leap up          shouts heard all around                  fire burns the forest

home for many          caught with no escape       sometimes man can contain the fire

sometimes he can't    sometimes even he cannot escape          we are told fire can be good 

                                                                                               for the forest

but surely it cannot be good for those burned to a crisp... in far away places



to sin is an archery term         meaning to miss the mark            and who doesn't miss it

sometimes we become irascible      but what is the point        it could be just child's play

aim for the target             and just as easily the arrow seems to have a mind of its' own

its' own trajectory           misses the target completely                but hits something else



in the park                   in a far away place                         on sunday morning

dogs play with frisbees               the old oak trees provide shade from the summer sun

friends lay on the grass        lovers with hands intwined             the scene a painting

visit the museum         thrill to see old favorites       remember the contents long forgotten

August 7, 2016





































9 comments:

  1. True poetry Annell - you carried me away and made my Sunday that bit more special... Thank you... With Best Wishes Scott

    ReplyDelete
  2. I can feel the summer day, look with you up to the mountain, concerned for the wildlife caught in the flames. I can almost smell the Mint!

    ReplyDelete
  3. What original thoughts! I cannot comment thoroughly on all of the poem's intricacies, but I really like the idea that sin is an archery term...indeed we really do miss the mark oftentimes in our lives!

    ReplyDelete
  4. This piece seems almost crystallised and distilled - like that light in the jar or a fossilised piece of burnt wood..you have captured both the best and harsh aspects of reality so beautifully - reminding us perhaps that the good and simple pleasures of life really should be kept and treasured forever - you hit the mark

    ReplyDelete
  5. What a beautiful poem! I know about the fireflies and all else "put away for safe keeping" and often forgotten ... and I love the idea of distancing and the conflagration in the middle. What can forgetting, what can burning be good for? Maybe simply to be in the now, which could also be "put away"--but not yet.

    ReplyDelete
  6. A beautiful piece of writing full of images of the past and a yearning for those lost times. What moving writing this is.

    ReplyDelete
  7. placing 'sin' in archery term is very very clever conceit. Nice piece, enjoyed it.
    My response to Stacies's prompt is HERE

    much love...

    ReplyDelete
  8. Well done, with this one... nice well written piece :)
    ZQ

    ReplyDelete