Should You Tire

Written for:  Sunday Muse #178

"Pick one image to write about."


I had 
high hopes for us–
happy marriage and children.
Hollywood will adore you, dear,
my loss.

Should you
tire of stardom
you will find stars await
silvering my eyes with love dear,
your gain.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/ 

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At The County Fair

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #87:  "Let's Go To The Fair"
(posted by Rommy)

"For today’s prompt I want you to write about one (or more) things you might find at a fair and write about that. Possibilities include (but are not limited to) cotton candy, Ferris wheels, ring toss, merry-go-rounds, corn dogs, and roller coasters."


It was a county fair
without any scary bears,
though pigs did race,
and chickens paced.
In stalls, handsome horses;
in pens a goats' chorus.
Quilts were blue ribbon,
not for sale or quibblin'.
Fried, fried, fried,
Oreos, pickles–that's no lie.
I spotted my corn dogs
for which I longed.
Soft custard stands,
for pistachio I ran.
Look at all those high rides.
They churn up my insides.
Children drip ice cream cones,
teenagers stay on phones.
Fun for all, this county fair,
Oh how I wish you were there.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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In The Zephyrs of Spring

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe
Tuesday Writing Prompt:  "whisper through me"
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)


As the zephyrs of Spring
tickle my neck and tease
my arms, I sense a bee-buzz
of anticipation around
my head like a crystal
aura.  I recall precious
moments of long ago.  Stand
still; close my eyes.  Your
warm breath whispers through me.

https://godoggocafe.com/
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“breaks light”

Written for:  The Twiglets #244 - "breaks light"


waiting for light
to break through 
darkness


When lightbulb crashed
to the floor, it's tiny
pieces formed a mosaic.
Hard to clean up without
a light.


light breaks
across branches of maples
bird's cue to sing


         When a man purchased a brand new lamp
      he placed it next to  a thriving house plant.
              The light was intense,
              the plant took offense.
   Leaves browned and fell; lamp ignored demise of plant.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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After The Storm

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #351 - The Day After

"Today is September 12th. Twenty years after The Day After. We’re writing “The Day After” poems. You decide what day you are referencing and write that poem. “The Day After Tomorrow”, “The Day After I Lost My First Tooth”, “The Day After The Earth Stopped”… Let’s revisit that day. The day after."


Day after the storm
houses gone,
widespread floods,
homelessness, horrific heat.
People weep at loss,
ponder rebuilding.
How many times can they start
anew?  So
weary on
day after the storm.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Near Summer’s End

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #518

Words:  carpets, lining, candlelight, land, tears, touching
        line, kneeling, down, flowers, late, wheels


Wheels of summer spin
rain and heat.  Late 
living flowers drop
petals on land forming
carpets at base of trees.
I kneel down to touch
the dewdrop tears in
morning sun.  By evening,
a line of ominous clouds
parts.  Zig-zags of purple
lightning, and bombs
of thunder drive everyone
to shelter indoors.  Some
eat by candlelight as
power fails, and house
lights shiver, then
disappear.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Long Silvered Locks

Written for:  Sunday Muse #177

Ach, it is becoming
too difficult to braid
the hair I have stubbornly
sought to keep.  Deep veins
and liver-spotted, arthritic
hands, are gnarled like an old
tree.  Honey, would you please
help me finish this chore
that once was a pleasure?

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , , | 25 Comments

That September Day

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub  (posted by Laura Bloomsbury)
Meeting The Bar:  Something Noel in Lines

"Since today is the 9th of the 9th month it is fitting for that numeral to inform today’s poetry form –  so let’s meet The Novelinee!

"Yes, it’s a nine line stanza poem overlaid with this rhyme sequence:
a,b,a,b,c,d,c,d,d

But that’s not all!! The novelinee was invented by Sarah Rayburn from the Spenserian stanza but written in iambic pentameter or 10 syllable lines (decasyllabic) with alternate stresses."


On this September day, we grieve for those
whose lives were taken, their futures ended,
their families waiting, names yet unknown.
A shock too appalling to comprehend–
the stench of smoke, fires out of control.
I watched from tunnel my building explode,
and knew there’d be colleagues left in that hole.
We sat glued to news, as tears overflowed.
Forever my heart will remain shadowed. 

https://dversepoets.com/
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Economy Space and Space Cadets

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #86 - "Mining The Journals"
(posted by Rosemary)

"It’s good to use really old journals if you have them, so you don’t remember what you wrote (though you may well remember the events you wrote about) and see the words afresh. However, even recent entries can surprise you, because they weren’t written with the intention of becoming poems or stories. When you’re looking for poetic or narrative possibilities, you re-read them in a different way.

Old or new, it’s rare (I think) that an entry can be reproduced verbatim. That’s OK. It’s a source of inspiration. Where you then take the inspiration is up to you.

So – today I invite you to mine a journal entry (or several) for material and give us a poem or a story drawn from that source."


A no-frills, last minute
vacancy in this hotel meant
DAMP!  You bring in dry
clothes, and as if my magic,
the room makes them wet.
A perusal of night table
and desk drawers, proved
their lack of any amenities.
No Bible, no Rule List–not even
a brochure with suggestions
of Things To Do.  For two 
days, we managed.  What
puzzled us was the couple
next door.  They sat outside
their room on beach chairs
all day long drinking
beer after beer.  We never
saw them move.  Why choose
a hotel?

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
 
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Myth of Childhood

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub    (posted by Sanaa)
Poetics:  Dungeons & Derivatives

"For today’s Poetics I invite you all to play a poetry game called, “Dungeons and Derivatives.”

The idea here is to select one (from a list of eight sentences) and to change at least one word or more by replacing it with a derivative. Once you are done, unlock the muse from its dungeon and write a poem with the existing sentence."

"Could it be that this idea of healing is a seed that has been planted within us?” 


Could it be that this idea of being healthy is a tiny pit
that grows from within us?

In childhood years
we all wondered about
the circulating story
of swallowing a watermelon
pit and having it grow
in our stomachs.  Was it
only black pits or tiny
white ones as well?  How
large would it grow,
and how on earth would
they be able to remove it?

https://dversepoets.com/2021/09/07/poetics-dungeons-and-derivatives/ 

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“steps on everything”

Written for:  The Twiglets #243 - "steps on everything"


While scooping up dog poop,
I stepped in it.   
Hurricane cleaned shoes.


Have you noticed 
that the older you get
the more steps you have
to climb when going anywhere?


sits in sunshine, awed
at this exciting place
foot of the Spanish Steps


        He still listened to children's old rhymes
          Did not step on cracks-even one time.
               Walked 'round all ladders
                 thinking it mattered
      but crossed at green, and was hit by a bike full of grime.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Cybyl

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Writer's Pantry #86:  Pet Training


Cybyl walked in the shape
of an "S", as if she were
being followed by spies.
Our black and white Springer
Spaniel could not walk
in a straight line, but
fortunately, she was never
stopped by police.  She was
the only dog we ever had that
aced Frisbee.  Racing back
and forth, she never missed.
When she had enough, she'd
amble over to us, and drop
the Frisbee at our feet.  She
would never carry it home.  So,
three of us left the park, two
following Cybyl's serpentine walk.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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A Night for Knights

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #350 - Nights In Shining Armor

"We’re writing a night poem. The shining could be the moon and stars. The armor can be an alcove of trees. The romance is whatever stirs your emotions! Take your words and try to get medieval on us. Or better yet, make us swoon."


Riding an ivory-colored
horse, he gallops
down the path, metal
clinking.  She sits
on a smooth stone facing
the other way.  Today, she
is sorrowful, lonely.
Maybe that full moon has
altered her mood.  She hears
horse hoofs and a clanging
sound.  She swirls around,
rubs her eyes.  The magic
lamp had worked!  Here was
her knight to whisk her
away to a brand new world
on an ivory-colored horse.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/ 
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Rescues

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #176

Words:  cage, hanger, try, flutter, cold, stray, deny,
        finish, womb, wish, eager, tree


Cold rescued dogs, stuck
in an aircraft hangar,
were finally free of
their cages.  They were 
eager to try out 
their cramped legs, 
and put a finish
to their old lives of
horrifying hurricanes.
The rescued dogs raced
around maple trees
chasing each other
and barking with 
a joy that could 
not be denied.  Nearby,
white butterflies 
fluttered about,
stopping to light
on fragrant flowers.  
No longer did the happy 
hounds wish for the warmth
of their mother's womb.
They had each other.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Bettin’ Man

Written for:  Sunday Muse #176

Ain't gonna be no bettin' man
no more.
Came to Vegas with some big-ass dreams
Winnin's not easy as they make it seem.
Lost my yellow Mustang; man I loved that car
chattin' up some slick fella at the bar.
Couldn't get nothin' 'cept this wreck–no horn.
Drivin' back to Tennessee in a black dust storm.
Ain't gonna be no bettin' man
no more. 

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
 
 

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Handling Health

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #85:  "Take Care of Your Body"
(posted by Magaly)

"I invite you to write poetry or prose inspired by the following Jim Rohn’s quote: “Take care of your body. It’s the only place you have to live.” Feel free to use the phrase literally or figuratively."


With macular degeneration
present in family,
it's eye vitamins
for me.  Since my having
any bones at all is merely
rumor, I stay calcified.
Knew I could never escape
stomach woes.  Stomach is
first to speak up when stress
or grief shows, as it is in
my sister, and was with
my Dad.  Probiotics are part
of my vitamin medley, 
and . . . just in case . . . 
I always carry Imodium.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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White Wishes

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
 “waterfall wishes”  (posted by Devereaux and Beth)


Waterfall wishes
cascade in white
tiers, a wedding
cake, a salty tear.
Was that what you 
wished for as 
you stood, eyes shut
tightly.  Is it all
you hoped for in
dark of night?

https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/31/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-august-31-2021/
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“those clean hands”

Written for:  The Twiglets #242 - "those clean hands"


I can still
smell the blood
on your cleansed hands.


The need for sanitizer
during this horrific time
has left my hands raw.


preening himself
parrot turns head left, then right
leaves wings spotless


           Her daughter was dating a dream
           -boat with a fine job, held in esteem
               'til his self-centeredness
                caused her loss of interest
    Mother said, so what, 'least his hands are clean.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Lake vs. Beach

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Donna Matthews triolet form challenge

 Triolet Poetry

8-line poem
Eight syllables each line

The rhyme pattern looks like this: ABaAabAB – A and B are refrains


Lakes are calm and fun to swim in
but there's no setting like a beach –
crashing waves and seagull's harsh din.
Lakes are calm and fun to swim in.
Beaches fill my heart to the brim.
Let's write our names in sand, side by each.
Lakes are calm and fun to swim in
but there's no setting like a beach.

https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/25/a-game-show-by-donna-matthews/

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Awaiting Playground Time

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub  (posted by Frank J. Tassone)
Haibun Monday - Back to School

"Whether you begin a new school year yourself, you send your first (or last) to college, or you recall your own back to school adventures, write your haibun alluding to back to school!"


Soon as September arrived, my mother would start singing,
"The Party's Over".  Oh how I hated to hear that song.
Then there was the horror of shopping for school clothes.  
I never liked anything she picked out.  Even then I was a 
color person, and she was pure earth tones.

In the second grade, I had Miss Gordon, whom I loved.
After that it was pretty much downhill.  On one hand,
I can name the teachers I liked.  On the other, there
was Mrs. Snelling, two miserable years in a row.

     Thin jacket in Fall
     knock-hockey in playground
     not cold in see-saw sun

https://dversepoets.com/
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Fun Things To Do

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2
Prompt #349
A "Shel" of Your Former Self

THE LITTLE BOY AND THE OLD MAN
By Shel Silverstein 

Said the little boy, sometimes I drop my spoon.
Said the little old man, I do that too.
The little boy whispered, I wet my pants.
I do too, laughed the old man.
Said the little boy, I often cry.
The old man nodded. So do I.
But worst of all, said the boy,
it seems grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
I know what you mean, said the little old man.


"This week we breech a subject with which more of us here deal than not. Aging. As we get a little older, we become more and more a shell of our former selves. Our highlighted poem by Shel Silverstein approaches the subject tenderly and lovingly as the similarity between the little boy and the aged gentleman is compared.

Re-read the Silverstein poem to refresh the concept. Then, you are charged with writing a poem that reflects your process as told to a young person. You are the Old (Woman/Man)."


Oh, your favorite book is Harold and the Purple Crayon?
Yes, I love that book. Little girl smiles.
My favorite color is purple.  Do you like coloring
books?
Oh yes, little girl says, but I always color outside
the lines.
So did I. It was more fun.
Little girl says, I like to make trees and clouds 
in different colors, but teacher says I have to use 
the right color crayon.
I liked to draw pink trees.  
Wow.  My teacher would be upset if she saw that.   
You know,  cookie crumbs stick to my lips all the time.
Well, I have the same problem with crumbly cookies.
Know what I want to be when I grow up?  A famous 
baseball player.  She giggles. Dad says I'm too skinny.
You are still growing.  You can be anything you like.
Big grin.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Out of Control

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #516

Words:  name, out, conduct, miles, rise, shimmering, close,
        stories, grin, sin, wind, cream


Stories of rising crime
stain our country for
miles, wind down our 
hopefulness like a
stopped clock.  Tick-tock.
Who was attacked today?
Who committed sinful
acts of hatred, racism?
Out-of-control violence
conducts the orchestra
with a whip.  Name 
a state that remains
untouched, pure as
white whipped cream.
You cannot close
the door on rising
crime.  It shimmers
close to the surface 
skin of those whose
rage can no longer
be contained.  They
are out there.  They
are not grinning foolish
pranksters.  They are 
simply grim.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/ 
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Marked

Written for:  Sunday Muse #175

We are marked
like bark.  Scratched
and scarred by life.  Our
bodies crack, hollows form
in our trunks.  We grow
flimsy branch hair,
where dancing blackbirds
flit in and out, building
their nests, as we are
incapable of building our own.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

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Tasting The Stars

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub  (posted by Victoria Slotto)
Meeting The Bar:  Soliloquy 

"Soliloquy is a form of speech spoken aloud by a character but addressed to no one except his or her self. The purpose of the soliloquy is to allow the audience to get a glimpse of the character’s inner thoughts and feelings while keeping them hidden from the other characters. The soliloquy differs from a monologue in that the latter is spoken so that other characters may be made privy to the speaker’s point of view. A soliloquy can express thoughts, emotions, intentions, plans and desires. It can influence the unfolding of the plot and can create irony."

"Now for the “Quoi?” (What?) part of the prompt. It’s obvious that I am asking you to write a soliloquy, but I would like you to make an effort to include some clear examples of one or more poetic devices of your choosing in your self-talk."


Wish that I could taste
the stars melting
on my tongue, wrapping
it in silken, sweet
hot fudge.  I am content
to gaze at beauty
I cannot grasp, thereby
leaving purity where
it belongs.

https://dversepoets.com/ 

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This Time I Mean It

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United  (posted by Rommy)
Weekly Scribblings #84: The Last Time

"Hello, Word Artists and Admirers! For this week’s prompt, I’d like you to play around with the phrase, “the last time.” You are free to interpret the phrase in any way you’d like, but you must use the words somewhere in your piece."


Know I said this is
the last time
months ago.
Now I am truly fed up.
This is your last time.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Drawn to Mystery

Written for:  Go Do Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Use fire, mystic, and identity in prose or poetry."


Saw a glow
of fire
in your eyes
and knew you possessed
the soul of a mystic
with no definitive identity

https://godoggocafe.com/

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Fearful of Heartache

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille #134
"We (heart) Poems"  - (Posted by WhimsyGizmo)

"Write us something that nearly gives us a heart attack. Come to us with your heart in your hands. Heart us a song, a storm or a story. Who was your teenage heartthrob? Pull at our heartstrings. Whether your poem is heartwarming or heartbreakingly coldhearted, just make sure it’s exactly 44 words (not including the title) and contains some form of the word heart. Heartbeat, heartland, heartfelt, heartless, heartache, heartburn, heartwood, heartworm."


There are those who
harden their hearts
against love, no upticks
in heart rate.  They never
experience rapid heart
beats, nor joys of
surges and butterflies.
Fearful of heartache
and it’s ensuing sorrow,
they choose not to
allow another heart
to touch their own.

https://dversepoets.com/
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Fashion Storm

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #515

Words:  fashion, storm, counter, surge, gust, role,
        floor, blinds, send, dry, children, masks


She saw her role clearly.
Take the fashion world
by storm.  No more
behind counters, or out
on selling floors. During
this dry spell, as pandemic
numbers surged, she began
designing fun masks for
children.  With a gusto
she'd never known,
she worked into the blind
of night, sending her
creations to local shops.
Sold out immediately.  Now
she is thinking ahead
to better times, and where
her creativity might take her.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Fickleness of the Heavens

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2, Prompt #348 - Weather
"Anywhere the weather takes you is prime for your piece."


Central Park sparks
lit up New York City.
The Homecoming Concert
was packed, energy level
pulsating, awaiting
performances of top
singers and musicians.
Wishing for it to continue
all night, but rain came.
People stayed.  Maybe they
could wait it out.  When lightning
flashed, only half the magic
had taken place.  Too dangerous, 
they said.  The show did not 
go on.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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A Puss’s Predicament

Written for:  Sunday Muse #174

Promised myself one
Catniptini.  Now my ears
are throbbing, my eyeballs
are spinning.  Worst of all,
they will have to look 
for me, and they know
exactly where I am–Paws 
and Stripes–my favorite
hangout.  The dog
will laugh his tail off,
and I will be housebound.
Just prrrfect.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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The Old Wooden Tracks

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe
Tuesday Writing Prompt (posted by Devereaux and Beth)

What do you see in this photo?  What do you feel?  (in 15 words)

Desolation.  No one rides the wooden rails at this old depot. Gone– the glory days.

Posted in Purple's Home | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

“the stars burn”

Written for:  The Twiglets #240
"the stars burn"


wildfires high enough
to make the stars burn


Once I had
stars in my eyes–
you burnt them out


stars in her eyes
she witnesses sparkling silver
burn and fall


         A young man with stars in his eyes
        thought he knew where his future lie
            I'll love you forever
           said his girl, so clever
      but she continued to see other guys

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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A Letter In The Mail

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Promp #347
So Much For Technology

"Today, we vilify technology. We found some new gadgets made our lives better. But some were like opening Pandora’s Box. Think of some technological wonder of this modern age and then consider its predecessor. We want that poem."


I think I shall write
a letter.  Better yet,
I will write it in
purple ink.  The receiver
will open the envelope
with care and curiosity.
He/she will touch thick
stationary, note flow
of writing, style
of each letter, and nod.
'Yup, that's her.  What
a job I have now to decipher
the words.  No mistaking
whose handwriting it is.'
I will wait eagerly
for a reply.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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When Crystal Is Not Clear

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #514

Words:  sense, years, still, mend, frame, scry, decry, marry, 
        funnel, avenue, heart, fall


Though scryer swore 
that her heart would mend, 
she would fall in love, 
and marry again, she still
sensed problems on the
horizon.  Fears framed her
outlook.  Friends decried
dependence upon a crystal
ball.  Perhaps she will seek
out a new avenue, one that welcomes
reliance solely on herself.  Too
many years were funneled by
others.  The ball darkened.
She paid her fee, and left.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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The Same Eyes

Written for:  Sunday Muse #173

Self-Portrait With Accordion
artwork in the “naive” style by artist Guido Vedovato.
We have the same
eyes, my little
friend.  I sing,
and play to soothe
the poor villagers.
You cuddle up with
them, and they feel
loved.   We each have
our jobs to fulfill.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

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Music

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Poetry Form:  Mirrored Refrain
(posted by Grace)

"The Mirrored Refrain is rhyming verse form constructed by Stephanie Repnyek.

The poem is formed by three or more quatrains where two lines within the quatrain are the “mirrored refrain” or alternating refrain.

The rhyme scheme is as follows: xaBA, xbAB, xaBA, xbAB, etc..

x represents the only lines that do not rhyme within the poem. 
A and B represent the refrain." 



Saxophone thrills me,
notes creep under my skin.
I think of hot summer nights.
Sound of the blues vibrates within.

Music brings people together.
Cultures combine–a joyous sight
Sound of the blues vibrates within.
I think of hot summer nights.

One voice in language of many
tugs shuttered windows open.
Sound of the blues vibrates within.
I think of hot summer nights.

https://dversepoets.com/
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My Log Cabin

Written for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Outside Looking In
(posted by Laura Bloomsbury)

" -conjure an imaginary house of any size, any place, any age
  -fill it with an imaginary person/people past or present, or
   ghosts,  or leave it empty with its history
  -make it literal but move into the metaphorical if you wish."


Here is Jenny!  She is
my dream log cabin
home.  Roof imprinted
with shadows of nearby
trees, pleasing shade for
front porch–a necessity.
Note the chimney.  It will
keep me snug and sheltered.
Inside, a hearth rug
for my animals.  They love
to lie in front of fireplaces.
Chair hung from ceiling
is rounded and pillowed,
perfect for curling up.
Wide windows for wishing,
daydreaming, or watching
wildlife.  Cabin's main
focus is a spacious
room.  A woodsy scent
permeates the house
of happy people and pets.
Other rooms are still
in the dream-schematics.  This
cabin is named for
my grandmother.  Say
hello to Jenny.

https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/10/poetics-outside-looking-in/

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Eyes Open Wide

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #82:  "War is over! If you want it"
(Posted by Magaly)

Write a poem using the quote as inspiration.


Life can be a joy
if you notice small things–
a pond filled with koi,
the aroma of Spring.

The eyes of a pet–
deep pools of love
and licks, if you let.
Morning may bring a cooing dove.

A field of wildflowers
multi-colored, grown tall.
Soft summer showers,
baby learning to crawl.

Open your eyes,
take in the view.
Let yourself be surprised
at what surrounds you.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

 

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Saw You

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereaux and Beth)

"Write a poem about betrayal using six words."


Saw you
together–
shameful.
Bye-bye

https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/10/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-august-10-2021/
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“corners of thirst”

Written for:  The Twiglets #239 - "corners of thirst"


thirsting for
vacation
around the corner


small places ache
for old times


diligent study
needs to quench a raging thirst
for education


           Together they sat on a bench
         pondering what liquid would quench
           their thirst in this heat.
           They were sodden and beat.
   Entered a bar, and remained entrenched.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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Locked Up

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub - Monday Quadrille #133
(posted by msjadeli) - "Stand"

"Your challenge today, if you choose to accept it, is to use stand or any word that includes stand in it to write a quadrille. Describe what taking a stand means to you. Talk about how you stand in the world. Explore how you’ve seen others stand. Be at a standstill. Walk through a stand of trees."


The eyewitness
got on the stand–
swore he would tell
the truth.  Raised left hand.  
Lied through his teeth,
and an innocent man
was convicted–out of reach–
for thirty years.  Finally
truth was uncovered.
No evidence, all lies.
Lost confidence
in judicial system.

https://dversepoets.com/2021/08/09/dverse-monday-quadrille-stand/
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Remembered

Written for:  Poetic Bloomings2 - Prompt #346
"It Suits Me Fine"

Using one suit from a deck of cards for poem.


Put in the ground with a spade,
small wooden marker placed.
Those who thought her forgotten
did not see the man with a knot in
his heart, as he lay a bouquet on her grave.

https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/
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Incident At River

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #513
Words:  breath, river, beams, touch, summer, paper,
        simple, needles, swallows, humble, bend, crowd


She gazed at
the breadth
of the river
as beams of summer
sunlight touched
the bones and bend
of her back.  
A crowd had gathered.
She felt her skin
prickle like needles.
Something was wrong.
Humble swallows sang
their simple tunes
on the wing.  She drew
closer and spotted
a lifeboat on the water.
A paper sign was posted.
A man had been seen
jumping into the river.
She wondered what his
chances were.

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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Waiting for Belle

Written for:  Sunday Muse #172  (posted by Carrie)



She does not understand.
Why did her beloved Belle,
resplendent in scarlet
and pine green feathers,
fly away.  For five days
she waits each morning,
dragging the parrot's
cage to forest's edge.
She calls, 'Belle, Belle,
please come home.' In
soaking rain mixed
with tears, she waits.
She does not understand.

http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
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Life Stagnates

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #81:  Change and Renewal  (posted by Rosemary)

Write about change/renewal


Stagnation
Still as a silent lake
turned to glass
in winter.
There is no backward.
I move forward
by rote.  Pulsing, 
pounding heart beats
faster and faster–
a galloping horse
racing to escape
stagnation.


https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
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Aqua Summers

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Donna Matthews Challenge
"Rondelet"

7 lines
Lines 1, 3, and 7 are refrains
Refrain lines are 4 syllables long, other lines are 8 syllables
Rhyme scheme: AbAabbA


Aqua water and Dad
learning to swim without a tube
Aqua water and Dad
those bonding summers we had
at local pool where water jets spewed
against our backs.  Will always value
aqua water and Dad 

https://godoggocafe.com/2021/08/04/churn-with-butterflies-by-donna-matthews/
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harvest

Written for:  Carpe Diem #1848 Harvest

harvest time
sickles flash in the sunlight -
reciting prayers

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

tomatoes, peppers
harvest shared by good neighbors
salsa in the works

http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/
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The Manikin

Written for:  Go Dog Go Cafe - Tuesday Writing Prompt
(posted by Devereuax and Beth)

"Use the phrases, "red painted lips" and "silken hair".


Mother and daughter out
shopping for a new 
doll.  Passing a hair
salon, daughter sees
manikin in the window.
Painted cherry-red lips,
and a wig of ebony silken
hair.  She turns to
her mother, says, I want
my doll to look just like that.

https://godoggocafe.com/
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“feels like Sunday”

Written for:  The Twiglets #238 - "feels like Sunday"


Carvel should have their
2-for-1 sundaes on Sundays
not Wednesdays.


Shelves stocked with
school supplies brings
to mind how I hated
Sunday nights.


studies painting
Saturday afternoon
Sunday in the Park with George


She wanted to marry on Sunday,
an afternoon wedding in the country.
She set a date
but she was late
when the date proved to be a Saturday.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/
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August Days

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub, Haibun Monday
8-2-21:  August  (posted by Frank J. Tassone)

"Whatever inspires you about this month—the namesake of Augustus, the solemn memorials to inhumanity and survival, madcap vacationing in sultry weather, or traditional Autumn—write a haibun alluding to August."


Blooms are ripe and full as they will get.  World in color.

August prepares me for a change in sleeping temperature.  Air off, windows open!  The light of evening begins to wane sooner, stores 
are showing Fall clothing, and shelves are stocked with notebooks.

As a child, I saw this month as long, with plenty of time
before school began.  Now the month zips by like a jet
plane.  A perk of August is getting a variety of fresh 
vegetables and tomatoes from my generous neighbors.  
Today I made salsa.

      tinge on tips of maple
      feathery edges outlined
      precursor to Fall

https://dversepoets.com/


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