TEN TRAINS AWAY/imaginary gardens with real toads

TEN TRAINS AWAY

Here I am

Count to ten

Ring the bell

Sorry to find

You are gone

Catch a train

Sip your tea

No more days

For you & me

July 14, 2018

A FISHING-PERFECT DAY IN SEPTEMBER/imaginary gardens with real toads

                                                             Toril Fisher Fine Art

A FISHING-PERFECT DAY IN SEPTEMBER

There is a loneliness 

About the sea

No one as far as you can see

Only the sound of the waves

And the wind

The boat broke anchor

You swam for it

I was told the sea

"Boiled before it was over"

It was September

The day warm

A fishing-perfect day

No one knew just how it happened

You were lost in a moment

Gobbled up in an instant

You did not return

Your life complete

July 12, 2018

CITIES LARGE AND SMALL/poets united midweek motif - city

CITIES LARGE AND SMALL

Cities large and small

Gathering places

Hurry up

Places to go

People to see

Everything is by the clock

Urban sprawl

You must fly over

To see it all

I wonder 

It is no place for animals

It does not support life

It robs us of our humanity

Crazy making

Hustle bustle

Never ending

Like a great ant mound

Structure for termites

Intersections

A giant grid

Hold on

Don’t give up

The light turns red

Stay on the sidewalk

No place to roam

The sun sets on glass and steel

July 11, 2018

WHERE IS PEACE/imaginary gardens with real toads Tuesday Platform

WHERE IS PEACE

Where is peace 

On a stormy night

Bombs exploding

Lightening flashing

My heart is tender

But afraid

I feel my way with

My fingertips

Thunder crashing

I cover my ears

Water seeps 

Under the door

We were warned

Run away

Run away

But where will we go

Perhaps as long 

As we can imagine peace

Even when the world does not

We can strive for it

A quiet morning

No ill will toward anyone

Even the birds are still sleeping

No one stirs

And yet the very next moment

Everything can change

The future is unknown

Perhaps peace only comes

In the in between

July 6^th, 2018

MEMORIES OF THE 1900 STORM/the sunday world -- poets united poets pantry

MEMORIES OF THE 1900 STORM

The boat in the shed

Stored many years ago

While on a fishing trip

Came a turbulent storm

The clock on the wall

Stuck the hour

The magpies on the lawn

Continued to squabble

Until the final minute

The electricity ceased

Your head on the pillow

Fast asleep as the storm raged

I traced the lines 

On your hand

Reached for my notebook

In the cabinet by the bed

You whispered to me

Kissed my fingertips

Lust is not dead

Only sleeping

July 8, 2018

Wordle 359