Thursday, August 30, 2018

Destination Unknown/imaginary garadens with real toads

Destination Unknown

When I ask, “Where are you going?”
And you answer, “Destination unknown.”
I stand by the road
And watch you go

My journey begins in the morning
By late afternoon, time for rest
You ask, “Where am I going?”
I also answer, “Destination unknown.”

I remember a little toy
That you wound with a key
And its little feet began to walk
It reminds me of me

My feet placed on the road
They move, they walk
The road is long
Destination unknown

How will I know I have reach the end of the road
There will be no more road before me
The long road will stretch behind
Still I keep walking

August 30, 2018

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

There is No In Between/poets united midweek motif "What If?

There is No In Between

I say, “What if?”
You say, “Oh, that’s just girl’s stuff.”
All that “wishy hopie” 
There is no what if

All the letters are written in stone
Forever as they are
Never to be changed
You are innocent

Or you are guilty
You are free
Or you are chained
There is no in between

No almost
No what if
Will the pardon be issued
Or is there no escape

The story written long ago
Right down to the last
Comma
Closed with a period

Your life destined
Before you were born
There is no what if
No almost
No in between

August 19, 2018



Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Quadrille/dVerse Kim's prompt Earth

For humans Earth is the Mother
The beginning and the end
Everything that we have
And everything that we are
Comes from the Earth
All that we carelessly discard
Returns to the Earth
In this life
Earth is heaven 
And it is our hell

August 28, 2019




School Began in the Autumn/imaginary gardens with real toads Autumn

School Began in The Autumn

You speak of autumn
To me it used to mean
School would begin…again
As a small child

I remember the wooden floors
And the wood chips the janitor
Would sprinkle on the floors
That had a very strong smell

I think it cleaned and oiled
The floors as he swept
The tall windows
With the sun shining through

The tops of the polished desks
With the carved initials
Reflecting the sun 
Filling the room with cheery light

The ceilings were tall
And the teacher would put up 
Posters and letters of the alphabet
All the way to the top of the room

I remember pictures of caravans
Camels and sand dunes
Children at play
Hop Scotch and marbles

I especially remember a story
The teacher read one day
It was a story about a little Eskimo boy
Who lived with his Grand Mother

An amazing story
A different world
Of ice and snow
To a little girl on the Texas gulf coast
Where snow was unknown

August 28, 2018









Sunday, August 26, 2018

The World is a Place of Neverland

The ham smokes on the back of the pit
The hide will be used for clothing
The green mist comes in
The weather changing

Green rolling hills become
Warm colors
Yellow, orange, red
As found on the color wheel

Seasons go through their changes
Coyote howls at the Harvest Moon
He speaks in tongues 
That have no meaning for us
So much we don’t understand

We stare into the darkness
Try to define the mysteries
Stories from long ago
Passed down through the years

The world is a place
Of “neverland”
Riding the tides
Of its own choosing

August 26, 2018

Wordle #365

Note:  I am thinking the world is “never” as we would like it to be.  No one ever asks us, “How would you like things to be.”  Wishes never granted.  What is unexpected seems to always happen.   This “Neverland” is full of surprises.  

Saturday, August 25, 2018

Memories of the Best Meals and Friendships Remembered...and Forgotten/imaginary gardens with real toads -- What was the best meal you remember?

Memories of The Best Meals and Friendships Remembered… and Forgotten

We shared together
Last night’s
Chinese take-out
It was early fall
We sat in the back 
Of a van
Now you are gone
Memories of
Fun days gone bye
But not forgotten

Another night…
The best meal I ever ate
Though I have forgotten
The food served
We made a promise
We would all meet
Same place
Same time
The date purposed
Now forgotten 

August 25, 2018

Thursday, August 23, 2018

The Song of Scattering Poems/imaginary gardens with real toads -- prompt: "in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems" E.E. Cummings

The Song of Scattering Poems

“in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems”       E.E. Cummings

The hour late
Music floats through the 
Window
The tenant downstairs
Plays the piano

I am reminded of Paris
“In the street of the sky night 
Walks scattering poems”
The same stars shine in
Kyoto

As fingers touch the keys
Stars appear
On the sheet music
Instead of
Notes

A choir sings the song
Of scattering poems
The hour late 
Music floats through the
Window

August 23, 2018







My World is a Beautiful Place/Poets United Midweek Motif -- The World is a beautiful place

My World is a Beautiful Place

My world is a beautiful place
All that I see around me
Takes my breath away
Mountains, streams

A dazzling blue New Mexico sky
A 360-degree abstraction
The labyrinth of sage brush
On the sandy soil of the mesa

Like rolling waves out to sea
The cactus adorned with spikes
Or lovely pink or yellow flowers
Everything in the desert

Has stickers or will bite you
Each has its own protection
It isn’t easy to live in the desert
As with most other things in life

You have to really want to
A striped lizard 
Might suddenly appear
Or birds of every kind

Fill the air with flight
Or they just might
Land right next to you
Each day a new canvas

The sun rises to light the splendor
Radiates through the day
Closes the day 
With colorful sunset

Red, gold, silver, purple
There is no end 
To the visual delight
That is the world 

August 23, 2018














Monday, August 20, 2018

Life is a Veil/imaginary gardens with real toads -- a reverse poem

Life Is a Veil

Life a veil
A world without flaws
Garden chimes sound
Comforts me
You hold out your hands to me

I hold out my hands to you
Comforts you
Garden chimes sound
A world without flaws
Life a veil

August 20, 2018

Sunday, August 19, 2018

Alone in The Desert/the sunday whirl -- wordle 365/ poets united poets pantry

Alone in The Desert

He hikes the dry
Dusty trail
The unrelenting sun
Stares down at him

He follows the path
Into the gorge
Down to the river
All is green

Ten degrees cooler
In the misty shade
In the distance are
Remembered smoke signals

Hanging in the purple sky
From years past
Full of mysteries
Never spoken

The coyote howls
In the early evening
Speaks in tongues
Unknown to man

Terror rolls through him
He hides
The natural world reaches for him
He doesn't know the meanings

He thinks
He is alone in the desert

August 19, 2018

Wordle 365    

Saturday, August 18, 2018

My Totem/imaginary gardens with real toads


My Totem

At the top of my totem
Would be a "God’s" head
Of sorts
A round ball

Like a blue marble
The earth my origin
The top of my totem
Would float in a starry sky

Then would come the
Porpoise that played in the bay
Morning to night
Followed by the soft pawed cat

My familiar
Constant companion
His wise eyes
An applied stone

Of the clearest blue
And a knowing smile
Forrest animals would follow
The deer, elk and the moose

Then the smaller animals
And many, many insects
All kinds, sizes and colors
Head to toe, my totem

August 18, 2018

I do not know what was carved on my Grand Father’s chest?  But I will look deep and see if I can divine my totem.  This is what I know about my Great Grand Father, who came to this country from Ireland, in 1858.  Two of the three brothers, settled in Trinity County, in Texas.  Where they grew cotton, on a large plantation.

I do not know what religion they followed, but there were only two churches in their county, the Baptist and the Methodist.  It was said, he didn’t really like the Methodist, for they were not pious enough, but he could not abide the Baptist…so he supported the Methodist Church.




Thursday, August 16, 2018

A Poem Without Meaning/imaginary gardens with real toads

A Poem Without Meaning

A poem as confusing as can be
Words put together
Without meaning
I read your words carefully

Upon completion I wonder
What in the world are you saying
A poem without meaning
Back to the drawing board

So, they say
Gather words
Burn the house down
Tell me your heart

August 16, 2018


Wednesday, August 15, 2018

School Daze/dVerse

School Daze

My school was old
Red brick buildings
The teachers were the same
Tall ceilings
The windows went 
All the way to the top

On warm days 
The teacher would open
Those very tall windows
The breeze would come in
And cool down the stuffy room

Which smelled of disinfectant
And eraser dust and paste
Lockers were in the back of the room
Where we would remove our coats
And place our lunch

The halls were dark
Light would stream in 
From the end of the hall
The floors polished

The play yard barren
There was some play equipment
And a tennis court
We played group games
At recess
I remember a circle
A red scarf and running

I was a good student
But someone was talking
All the time
Would interrupt my thoughts
At last, I found out it was me

August 15, 2018

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Hand Holding Day/imaginary gardens with real toads

Hand Holding Day

The greatest fear
For humans is death
Though we were born for it
It will be the final step 
In your journey
Makes a strong man cry

How are we to cope 
With that knowledge
All that we love
What is tender for us

I reach for your hand
You reach for mine
You hold me tight
A strong young man
You promise 
Never to let go

The man resting
On the side of the road
Asks, “But why
Should we continue”
I offer my hand
Symbol of connection

Symbol of safety
Symbol of care
My fingers are aware
Of your rough skin
You have toiled 
At hard labor
All of your life

Do not fear
All is as it should be
Like Spring blossoms
End of Summer
Their time spent

August 13, 2018


My favorite box....dVerse


My favorite box
Is made of wood
Several different kinds of wood
In the shape of a heart

It resides in a small skin wrapper
When open it reveals nothing
It is empty
Yet so beautiful

The beauty of it
Fills my lonely heart

August 14, 2018

Monday, August 13, 2018

Hand Holding Day/dVerse

Hand Holding Day

The greatest fear
For humans is death
Though we were born for it
It will be the final step 
In your journey
Makes a strong man cry

How are we to cope 
With that knowledge
All that we love
What is tender for us

I reach for your hand
You reach for mine
You hold me tight
A strong young man
You promise 
Never to let go

The man resting
On the side of the road
Asks, “But why
Should we continue”
I offer my hand
Symbol of connection

Symbol of safety
Symbol of care
My fingers are aware
Of your rough skin
You have toiled 
At hard labor
All of your life

Do not fear
All is as it should be
Like Spring blossoms
End of summer
Their time spent

August 13, 2018

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Home of the Blue Lizard, Desert Fox and A Host of Other Desert Dwellers/the suday whirl -- poets united poets pantry

Home of the Blue Lizard, Desert Fox and A Host of Other Desert Dwellers

The desert is quiet
Thin blue lizards 
Sit on rocks
Blend into their world

When it rains
Longing does not yield
Its grip on the heart
All is quiet except

For the rhythmic rain drops
Falling on the roof
Like the ticking of the clock
Later… when the sky is brilliant

Weather dry 
Tail dusty
You will wonder about 
The dark mood that colored
Your world  

The Rio Grand
Still sleeping in its bed
A tune lilting on the wind
Ripples the surface
Speckled trout
Swim below

August 12th, 2018



Wordle 364

Thursday, August 9, 2018

CALLING UP GRIEF/imaginary gardens with real toads

CALLING UP GRIEF

In dead of winter
“under the night sky she mounted a mare and rode”
No one knew where she rode
On those dark and dreary nights

She always pointed to the paint
Brown and white, In the field
She always said it was hers
The one she rode under the night sky

A pretty little girl
Sheltered and protected from
All things that hurt
And yet, over time

Hurt would find her
Like a curse
Dictated by 
The local witch

Her urge to ride
Could come at any time
Was not limited
To the dead of winter
She said, she was calling up grief

August 9, 2018








THE SOUL OF MY LOVE/dVerse

THE SOUL OF MY LOVE


I have always found 
It difficult
To believe
What I cannot experience

And yet 
time is a good example
I am here
Time passes

I cannot see it
Time passes
I cannot feel it
Time passes 

I have become 
An old woman
Unaware of passing time
Each day
Seems to be exactly
Like the day before

Another example
Is the “Soul”
What is it
Where is it
How to know
It exists

Someone told me once
It is the “you of you”
The very essence of you
That makes sense
I will accept it

August 9, 2018


Wednesday, August 8, 2018

A POEM ABOUT A POEM/poets united midweek motif


A POEM ABOUT A POEM

A poem about a poem
Oh, let me see…
I stop along the road
And I wait for it to catch 
Up with me

Tell me who you are
And what business
Do you have with me
You say you are a counter
You will count the tears for me

You say you are an explorer
And you will help me see
You say you are a master
You will hold my thoughts
For me, until I am able to
Hold them for myself

You say you like to play
And you never know for sure
Exactly where you are going
You are big enough to hold
All of the thoughts unspoken

You are a good friend
And promise to always
Be there for me
To have and to hold
From this day forward
Until the end of days

August 8, 2018

Sunday, August 5, 2018

WORDS BOUND TOGETHER WITH TWINE/the sunday whirl -- poets united poets pantry

WORDS BOUND TOGETHER WITH TWINE   

On another day
In another time
Far away
Bones were stacked
Like cord wood
Tied with a skein 
Of woolen yarn
The color red

The sound of a guitar
Floats above the sage
Joins the sounds of church bells
That welcome the morning
A sweet refrain

On another day
In another time
Far away
We walked along the sea
Kicked sand
Collected shells
You would run to each shell
Bend down
Examine it carefully


Today, with the weight of the world
Upon us
We collect stones
Count shameful transgressions
Rest in the shade
Of our wig-wam
Bind words together with twine

August 5, 2018

Wordle 363  



It Is October Again This Year/dVerse

It Is October Again This Year Scratch notes into my journal Fingers touch the keys You pull the bow across the strings Beyond t...