July 31, 2016 The Sunday Whirl -- Sunday's Whirigig -- Poets United Poets Pantry/A Poem Today

A Poem Today

turn the page      dip your toe in the chilly waters        unfettered by past obligations

at last          you sit comfortably in your chair            no more worries

watch the morning unfold      turn around       check the footprints you leave behind

traces of your being      stretch out on the grass         examine the clouds

find animals and people       kings and queens               elephants and things

confident you did your best     your enemies may hide in ambush      still you do not worry

there is much to be done      thrust your pen to paper        train your eye on the horizon

you speak the language of ordinary sheep             often misunderstood

still to be on the safe side        you spell the words aloud                twist them

seek new meanings           sort them into families            slowly they begin to bloom

like flowers in springtime      they spill onto your apron     quickly you put them on the grill

heat them up                     cook them through                  it is no safe place after all

the bobble doll wobbles         repeats words and phrases                forward and back

strings them together       like popcorn ropes at christmas      drape them across the page

July 31, 2016

July 31, 2016 The Sunday Whirl -- Sunday's Whirigig -- Poets United Poets Pantry/A Poem Today

A Poem Today

turn the page      dip your toe in the chilly waters        unfettered by past obligations

at last          you sit comfortably in your chair            no more worries

watch the morning unfold      turn around       check the footprints you leave behind

traces of your being      stretch out on the grass         examine the clouds

find animals and people       kings and queens               elephants and things

confident you did your best     your enemies may hide in ambush      still you do not worry

there is much to be done      thrust your pen to paper        train your eye on the horizon

you speak the language of ordinary sheep             often misunderstood

still to be on the safe side        you spell the words aloud                twist them

seek new meanings           sort them into families            slowly they begin to bloom

like flowers in springtime      they spill onto your apron     quickly you put them on the grill

heat them up                     cook them through                  it is no safe place after all

the bobble doll wobbles         repeats words and phrases                forward and back

strings them together       like popcorn ropes at christmas      drapes them across the page

July 31, 2016

July 31, 2016 The Sunday Whirl -- Sunday's Whirigig -- Poets United Poets Pantry/A Poem Today

A Poem Today

turn the page      dip your toe in the chilly waters        unfettered by past obligations

at last          you sit comfortably in your chair            no more worries

watch the morning unfold      turn around       check the footprints you leave behind

traces of your being      stretch out on the grass         examine the clouds

find animals and people       kings and queens               elephants and things

confident you did your best     your enemies may hide in ambush      still you do not worry

there is much to be done      thrust your pen to paper        train your eye on the horizon

you speak the language of ordinary sheep             often misunderstood

still to be on the safe side        you spell the words aloud                twist them

seek new meanings           sort them into families            slowly they begin to bloom

like flowers in springtime      they spill out onto your apron     quickly you put them on the

                                                                                                                              grill

heat them up                     cook them through                  it is no safe place after all

the bobble doll wobbles         repeats words and phrases                forward and back

strings them together       like popcorn ropes at christmas      drapes them across the page

July 31, 2016

July 29, 2016 dVerse Open Link Night #176

Acceptance

oh that is a hard one         you ask me to accept              everything ends

seasons end               summer one long holiday            comes to a close

welcome autumn     the season of color      leaves gracefully fall from the trees

cover the ground in gold       temperatures change           the nights are cool

put another quilt on the bed      stitched with spring flowers       soon enough

snow begins to fall            memories of sleigh bells            family gatherings

evergreen boughs              candles a glow                  aunt blanch's apple cake

the smell of holidays fill the air      cinnamon and spice       gifts under the tree

just when you think        you can stand it no more                        spring appears

tender shoots in new green       the old oak in the front yard     has to be taken down

everything ends            even the ones most precious              ...even us

accept it all                      the plan is drawn                       there is no other course

July 27, 2016

July 24, 2016 The Sunday Whirl #258 -- Sunday's Whirligig #69 -- Poets United Poets Pandtry/ If Only For a Day

If Only For a Day

the tide is coming in         with each wave             new patterns form in the sand

long before we reach the beach      we smell the sea             slip under its' spell

our old lives            home in the city              everyday responsibilities disappear

seagulls call          we dissolve into life at the bay             where land meets sea

worries dwindle            what is hard softens                    gentle breezes

palm trees                       sand castles                                         jellyfish glisten

sea shells                            picnics                        waves forcefully come to shore

crash                       gently return to sea                                    take loss with them

in the garden            the great blue heron steps carefully     among the weeds and peony

hummingbirds seek the feeders             hover                      whirring and chirping

fighting to see who is first           troubles dissolve                  give way to happiness

in summer                    the vote is a trip to the bay                  ...if only for a day

July 24, 2016

July 17, 2016 The Sunday Whirl #257/ The Ship Sets Sail --Sunday's Whirligig #68 -- Poets United Poets Pantry

The Ship Sets Sail

the ship sets sail          on a lonely sea            no longer on the shelf

all repairs made          new sails                  you flick a bug from your lip

the sea air refreshes      thrums of canvas            scattered across the deck

just like jack         when the pie is presented          you stick in your thumb

pull out a plumb and say                    what a good boy am i

the cook is pleased       to see you throw fish overboard        chum the water

you succumb to the motion of the craft       you have known seasickness on other voyages

you are in luck today              the sea is as slick as glass                   life at sea

can be a game                  you and your parakeet                    sit on your buttocks

on deck find your place among the crew                         later you will go below

lock your cabin         sleep the sleep of the dead                dream of sea adventures

sea songs and pirates      the albatross that follows the ship          until the crack of dawn

July 17, 2016

Note:  A desert dweller dreams of the sea.

July 13,2016 Poets United Midweek Motif / Absence

Absence

your absence          is as substantial                               as your presence

it breathes              it wails in the dark                       tears cascade down

it abandons memory      the comforts for home             warmth and safety

it is openness        without boundaries      the desert of loneliness stretches

as far as the eye can see         it curls like a worm in the core of your being

forever hungry          it consumes you                            leaves you empty

like an abandoned building         waiting too long                for your return

demands payment              hides itself from view       springs when least expected

equipped with claws          sharp teeth                         and one glaring eye

which never closes             watches the clock                    notes the hour

stretching minutes             to unbearable lengths            uses subterfuge

plays to win                     devours all that is before it            without warning

returns regularly              you have no weapons                    you are defenseless

July 11, 2016

July 10, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig/ Love -- The Sunday Whirl/World of Unknowing --Poets United Poets Pantry

Love

so what do you mean when you say love      a special feeling for something or someone

taking something as your own       you identify with it                wild or otherwise

caring for something      creating room for it in your heart      love blooms in every season

in the spring when you are young and free      you take risks            the time of the child

carefree through summer's long hot days                              dreams fulfilled

embrace the moment                   each day bright and shiny                      a holiday

end of summer comes too soon                                         holding on

all the while knowing all will be transformed                                    into autumn

you are older now and so is it...                                   or he or she...

or something else...       the mature years              snuggle by the fire on cold afternoons

your vision clearer                your hopes and dreams checked            soon enough

when cold winds blow            chill your bones                       the world transformed

winter white                           winter days                               winter nights

journey's end                         crystals sparkle                       a life fulfilled

give what you have           it is your only reason for being            otherwise it is irrational

Jul 9, 2016

_____________________________________________________________

What is Unknown

the door swings open         i don't know                       should i laugh or weep

in this place of unknowing      a little smile shows        at the corner of my lips

there is a wit about it all       i came into this world without knowing        i live

breathing in and out              i grow                                always in that same state

no matter what i learn           there is always so much more           i do not know

there is a pair of little birds     who have made a nest outside my door     something so small

so ordinary                            so familiar                                so exquisite

i do not know how to make a nest                         it is said it cannot be done by man

it is as though                      i am locked out                          separated from knowing

remain in the dark               it is up to me                              to quilt what i do know

into the whole of who i am             wrap myself in the warmth of my own making

i lift the corner                      collect the spice                        that is found between

shocked that there is always so much more to learn                       i do what i can

satisfied it is the way of things                              in this world of unknowing

July 10, 2016

July 3, 2016 The Sunday Whirl/ Sunday's Whirligig / Life's Conclusion -- Poets United Poets Pantry

Life's Conclusion

the end is usually thought to be the conclusion     but it is only one conclusion of one part

of one event           perhaps the end is not the end at all               only a pause

in what you accept as the order of things        life everlasting                  past

present and future             ride the waves                     the redundant returning of life

on a lonely shore          draft a new topic                     gather the fragments

thoughts and memories       scattered on the ground        waiting for you to remember

to reconstruct sentences        that reveal who you really are        who you will become

the you of you                      that lingers long                       after the others have retired

this is the voice of the one      you really are                  put on those high heel sneakers

you are a lady of note              you got style                                  ride the dragon

without worry of spelling or grammar                  you know the plants in the garden

which ones to pick                  which ones to eat                           which ones to smoke

you bend down lick the face of the ones you love                        they look back at you

some are flowers and some are weeds                    you run your finger down their stalk

dig deep into the ground             all is right with the world                      home at last

July 3, 2016

___________________________________________

You Wait for Me

there was no drizzle   in the summer night   still your fur was wet

your tail wet, too                  diamonds sparkling by moonlight

weeping tears                                   sliding down your cheeks

leaving a trail                                         like that of the slug

come morning in the garden                  wet and shiny

from eye to chin       pooling on your shirt         freshly starched

smell of cedar      ancient medicine for what ails a broken heart

prevents rot              kind and gentle          a shy smile

fed my roots tunneled my way to the surface love came swiftly

i remember the day a young boy shot and killed

the graceful bird standing tall                    alone in the field

so much to learn     your soul was old and wise           over time

you grew into your soul   a perfect fit         you reached your peak

then time to go                   if there should be a heaven

there you will be found      a venerable saint      you wait for me

July 3, 2016

July 3, 2016 The Sunday Whirl/ Sunday's Whirligig / Life's Conclusion -- Poets United Poets Pantry

Life's Conclusion

the end is usually thought to be the conclusion     but it is only one conclusion of one part

of one event           perhaps the end is not the end at all               only a pause

in what you accept as the order of things        life everlasting                  past

present and future             ride the waves                     the redundant returning of life

on a lonely shore          draft a new topic                     gather the fragments

thoughts and memories       scattered on the ground        waiting for you to remember

to reconstruct sentences        that reveal who you really are        who you will become

the you of you                      that lingers long                       after the others have retired

this is the voice of the one      you really are                  put on those high heel sneakers

you are a lady of note              you got style                                  ride the dragon

without worry of spelling or grammar                  you know the plants in the garden

which ones to pick                  which ones to eat                           which ones to smoke

you bend down lick the face of the ones you love                        they look back at you

some are flowers and some are weeds                    you run your finger down their stalk

dig deep into the ground             all is right with the world                      home at last

July 3, 2016

___________________________________________

You Wait for Me

there was no drizzle   in the summer night   still your fur was wet

your tail wet, too                  diamonds sparkling by moonlight

weeping tears                                   sliding down your cheeks

leaving a trail                                         like that of the slug

come morning in the garden                  wet and shiny

from eye to chin       pooling on your shirt         freshly starched

smell of cedar      ancient medicine for what ails a broken heart

prevents rot              kind and gentle          a shy smile

fed my roots tunneled my way to the surface love came swiftly

i remember the day a young boy shot and killed

the graceful bird standing tall                    alone in the field

so much to learn     your soul was old and wise           over time

you grew into your soul   a perfect fit you     reached your peak

then time to go                   if there should be a heaven

there you will be found      a venerable saint      you wait for me

July 3, 2016