Thursday, November 29, 2018

In the Cold of Morning...Mourning/imaginary gardens with real toads

In the Cold of Morning…Mourning

A spell of magic broken
Darkness is banished
To hide in gloomy shadows
Dreams persist

Like patches of snow
Hiding under the sage brush
Long after all the other snow
Has melted

In clear light of morning
Like a crystal bell ringing
Across the desert
The vibrations of sound

Travel far in the desert
The sun warms the morning
And the cold heart
Also found under the sage

Still beating
Barely beating
Waiting for twilight
Waiting for your return

November 28, 2019




Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Snow-Days in November/imaginary gardens with real toads

Snow-Days in November

November is almost over
The door for its leaving
And for December’s coming
Is open

The days are colder now
But mostly the sun shines
The weather still mild
Twice we have seen

The magic of snow
The transformation of 
The landscape
Wrapped in winter white

No snowball fights with you
There was only one time
And you covered me completely
I choose my battles

And don’t enter
Into ones I can’t win
You are far too experienced
Still a boy with a powerful arm

November 27, 2018



Sunday, November 25, 2018

"I Regret to Inform You..."/Poets United Poets Pantry -- the sunday whirl Wordle #378

“I Regret to Inform You…”


“I regret to inform you….”
So many sad-news-letters begin 
The news on TV
Should begin this way

So much of it bad
“He sailed away
Never to be heard from
His boat adrift on a foreign sea”

The ebb and flow of life
The highs and lows
The comings and goings
The finding of things unexpected

We stand on the fringe
And cheer with the crowd
Things aren’t perfect
But we are told, we are free

“I regret to inform you…”
Comes with such a sting
The words pierce the heart
Your breath catches in your throat

November 25, 2018


 Wordle #378

Saturday, November 24, 2018

A Letter to You/mini challenge imaginary gardens with real toads

A Letter To You

Empty
I feel to the bottom
With my fingers
Nothing there

I close the book on that chapter
I take up my pen
Find words
Write to you a letter

Now my thoughts are full
I tell you all that has happened
Since that day in May
And how blue the sky

November 24, 2018






Thursday, November 22, 2018

I Beckon to You to Share My Bed/dVerse

I Beckon to You to Share My Bed

You forget I am a dinosaur
You ask me to speak
Yet, I remain silent
I look around for escape

The windows are shut
The doors are all locked
There is no escape
I sit quietly

What can I say
What can I share
Slowly the words come to me
The wall paper burns

The walls blister
The fire in the hearth
Is smothered
Deprived of oxygen

At last I speak
I would not want to go on
Without you
I beckon to you to share my bed

Whisper secrets of shared desire
My body warm against yours
We slip into the bliss of desire
Tangled into one

November 22, 2018


A Love Poem For Thanksgiving/imaginary gardens with real toads

A Love Poem For Thanksgiving

So many Thanksgivings
I have experienced
As a child
At home with my family

The turkey roasting 
The kitchen filled 
With holiday smells
We knit a life together

You often cooked the turkey
A perfect meal
Welcomed the early morning
With eggnog

The family around the table
And after dinner a nap
Today, I am with my family of choice
Many empty chairs at the table

Remembered faces
Contribute to the emptiness I feel
I am aware life is but a revolving door
Some coming and some going

Still the celebration goes on
We knit a life together
The play continues
The actors different

Give thanks that we are still here
The kitchen is filled with holiday smells
We knit a life together
Mend and patch

November 22, 2018

My Mom, My Dad, My Grandfather, My Grandmothers, My Sisters and their children, My Husband, Jack, and his Mom and Dad, and my child, Jim.  My Aunts and Uncles, and cousins.    Annie and Theodore, Jr and Jeanette, George, Tom, Johnny, John… so many it could fill a page.



Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Prayer/poets united midweek motif/prayer

Prayer

To whom do we pray?
As a little girl
My parents took me to church
But I guess…

Church didn’t take to me
I do find some satisfaction
In prayer
But I am not sure…

That my prayers are heard
Maybe it doesn’t matter
If they are
Perhaps it is only to be centered

Quiet
So that I can see
Things become clear
I can see all the way to the bottom

I can see who swims with me
I can see you, too
Time to sort things out
Give gratitude for all that is given me

November 21, 2018



Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Spoil/dVerse


Spoil

I would not want to be the one
To spoil it for you
But sometimes
All can become a bucket of snakes

It has happened
Perhaps a word spoken
….or misspoken
A misunderstanding

Someone melted
Like the tigers in the story
Little Black Sambo

November 20, 2018


Happy Birthday/imaginary gardens with real toads

Happy Birthday

Just a pause…
A celebration
Like most tea parties
There was cake

Just a little cake
Not too much
To celebrate the year past
The year to come

This day of all days
A day together
The sun shone this year
The snow still on the ground

All was gentle
We sit in your kitchen
The cat stops for a brief hello
The dog sleeps in the sun

We share words
Try to catch up...
A whole year
Poured into the teapot

Fill each cup
We settle into the moment
We remember the days 
Days on last year's calendar

Marked off as lived
Remembered in long sentences
Spoken as remembered
Happy Birthday to you again this year

November 20, 2018







Sunday, November 18, 2018

A Light in the Window/the sunday whirl -- poets united pots pantry

A Light in the Window

She held the sleepy child in her arms
The falling snow had ceased
Though tiny flakes
Continued to fall from the branches

Of the trees
Their trunks dark and ominous
In the last rays of sunlight
Brilliant on the western horizon
She thought if she could draw a line

From where she was
To the setting sun
She would know exactly
Where she was

It was then she heard
The song of the windchime
It was a sign
She was close to home

Because it was winter
There would be no buds
In the garden
All would be sleeping

Under a blanket of white
Everything transformed
Her heart lifted
Almost like the coming of Spring

She had lost her way
Now she was found
She knew it would be only minutes
Until she would be home
A light burned in the window
November 18, 2018





Wordle 377 cinch, fine, junk




Saturday, November 17, 2018

I Am in a Foreign Land/dVerse

I Am in a Foreign Land

Here we stand
The two of us
Two tribes come together
I am the last of my kind

Older
Wiser
Kneaded like fresh dough
For biscuits in the morning

Each day a good beginning
The sun slowly rises
A beautiful pink to orange glow
Great expectations

Life has humbled me
Taken me to task
Spit me out
To try again

What a bitter pill I must be
An old woman
I croon to myself
A song I used to sing to my son

Years have passed
I solid as a stone
And yet life
Has marked me

Left its hand print on my shoulder
The same as in the cave
Red the color of life
Each new day I am amazed

I walk the labyrinth of life
Go within 
Weigh and measure
Often it is as if, I am in a foreign land

November 15, 2018

Thursday, November 15, 2018

If You Forget Me/imaginary gardens with real toads

If You Forget Me

Say you will
Remember for all times
All that is sweet in the world
The looks as our eyes found

Each other across a room
The touch of your hand
The warmth of your body
Next to mine

The conversations
As we sit before the fire
Hours working quietly 
Together in the studio

There really is no more
I will not forget you
Not for all times
Your breath against my cheek

But, if one day...you forget me
Over time...I will forget you
It is not a threat
But a promise my dear

November 15, 2018


Wednesday, November 14, 2018

The Best is Yet To Come/poets united midweek motif/Age

The Best Is Yet To Come

Somethings are better with age
A man
Who has the secret
He is interested in you

A woman
Sweet and true
Takes her time
Thinks before she speaks

It is not to say
She doesn’t say what is on her mind
It is said in a gentle way
Youth doesn’t age well

It disappears before you know it
Best to put away childishnish
Be the person you were meant to be
It only comes with age

November 14, 2018

Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Hope, coffee, and Poetry/imaginary gardens with real toads


Hope, Coffee, and Poetry

Nothing more 
Nothing less
You came into the shop
Where I worked

We chatted
You took my hand
We smiled 
As we looked into each other’s eyes

I thought …a lovely man
Now isn’t that hope?
Of course, I did not know
You would be my lover

But what a nice smile
You came to see me 
We had coffee
We talked of shoes and sailing ships


You told me who you were
And I told you about me
All the pieces fit
The puzzle complete

Based on that chance meeting
You listen to my poetry
You write and read to me
My life complete

You deserve a lover
That is the same
He loves me
He loves me not

He takes away lies
Brings hope
Coffee
And poetry

November 13, 2018

"You deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry.”
~ Frida Kahlo




Sunday, November 11, 2018

I Remember You/the sunday whirl world 376 -- poets united

I Remember You 

It was my birthday
In the year of our lord 1991
We made the journey
You fly-fished in the San Juan

The light sparkled off the water
Without knowing
We were exploring a place
That would soon be my home

Land of Enchantment
With our walking sticks
We hiked and sang songs
Just a little off pitch

One never knows what is ahead
Still we continue
Even what we think of 
As the impossible

You said, you could not be happy
Without the coast
We are never really stranded
The road ahead always looks promising

There is no machine
That can tell you what tomorrow will bring
After you left
The years passed

I yearned to talk with you
Ask what you think
After all these years
I miss you still

November 11, 2018


Saturday, November 10, 2018

It is Autumn Again/imaginary gardens with real toads

It is Autumn Again

The wind blows the blades of the windmill

The windmill spins
It is Autumn again

The light of the sun
Reflects from the blades
As the leaves fall from the branches

November 10, 2018



Thursday, November 8, 2018

A Poem is a Self Portrait/A Mirror of You/imaginary gardens with real toads

A Poem is a Self Portrait/A Mirror of You

You ask for a poem
Made of thin air
Seasonings of your choice
Appropriate for the season

Dust bunnies
Hair and bones
A bit of heart
And you

Knead into a ball
Chill
Roll flat
And bake in the over

Temperature your choice
Do you like it light-brown
Or do you like it burned
Length of baking time

Again, up to you
The recipe flexible
Suited for your own purpose
Arranged on white paper

Words of black ink
Suited to your own taste
Served best to gathering of friends
Delivered with your best voice

Every poem a self portrait
Like your signature
It is one of a kind
A mirror of you

November 8, 2018




Wednesday, November 7, 2018

Reading Fiction Just for Fun/poets united midweek motif/fiction

Reading Fiction Just for Fun

With our eyes we see
See the words
Give meaning
Collect ideas

Fill inner world
With made up people
Made up ideas
Made up stories

The world seems forever busy
Just to stay alive
Takes so much precious time
Instead I would like to 

Curl up with a book
Let the world go by
Turn off the TV
Turn on the music

Fall down the rabbit hole
Eat the fodder
That enriches life
Colors the narrative

Oh time
Precious time
Why have you forsaken me
I fall asleep reading you

November 7, 2018



Tuesday, November 6, 2018

The Vote/dVerse

The Vote

The vote was made
Signed sealed and delivered
Dropped into the box
In a wink of the eye
We will know
Either we like it
Or we don’t
The chasm appears deep
We swam in deep waters before
We lived to tell about it

November 6, 2018

Savagely Sad/imaginary gardens witth real toads

Savagely Sad

Savagely sad, you say
But what about the people
Who live in war zones
Who try to escape

Who walk for thousands of miles
Without shoes
Barefoot across hot pavement
Across stickers

With blisters
A trail of tears
Each day they carried their dead
The people who gathered to see

Cried all the way
Bring the teapot to the table
Two tea cups
Sit with me for a while

We will talk of cabbages and kings
Of shoes and sailing ships
We will count the missing
Count the empty chairs

We will remember 
When life was full
When we were needed
When we lost our keys

Late for school
Everything hard edge
A man is expected to live 76.4 years
Individual expectation unknown

November 2, 2018

Note:  In a response to a poem, Brendan said, "savagely sad."  And I thought, what a wonderful title, here is my poem.



Sunday, November 4, 2018

Reverie/the sunday whirl #375 -- poets united poets pantry








Reverie
The morning pink
Above the horizon
The mountains a misty blue
All is quiet and still

No breeze blows
It is as if the world
Is holding her breath
Lost in her dreams

The child sings a song of her own
Attentive to the soft kitten
Petting her gently
Mother stirs the eggs

Prepares breakfast
In her mind
She dreams
Of the long drive home


The past rolls before her
Like a movie
The child tugs on her skirt
She returns to the kitchen

As though for the first time
To find her hands have
Completed the task
She puts breakfast on the table

November 4, 2018

Wordle 375:  Note:  runny, find, corn, spray  These are the words I didn’t use.

Saturday, November 3, 2018

Head on A Tray/imaginary gardens with real toads



Head on A Tray

How often I have felt
I have my head in my hands
When I have misspoken
When I have foolishly called your name

When I have made a mistake
When I have gone the wrong way
It seems my head
Is not on my shoulders

There is it
Sitting on the tray
Along with the teapot
The cups for tea

Come sit with me
As I adjust my head
In the place it belongs
Perhaps it was but a dream

November 3, 2018

Thursday, November 1, 2018

Once Upon a Time/dVerse


Once Upon a Time

Which time am I speaking of
Your time
Behind time
On Time
Lost time

Before time
Slow time
Quick time
Or my time 

The empty shell 
That once held time
Left alone on the sand
The waves wash over

Silent time
The color gray
We gently shake it
No response

The time about which I speak
Is the silence after
No one to explain
What has happened

Why the sky is gray
No one answers your phone
Like the shell
The world is empty without you

November 1, 2018

dVerse






Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...