BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS – PROMPT # 18

This week brings us to the beauty of a starlit sky and the wonder of our dreams. Within those dreams lies our inner most longings and desires. This week’s “Beautiful Blooms”:

Marie’s pick for this week:

Twice in as many weeks, I chose Patricia Hawkenson’s poem. The moon brought out so much beauty and emotion from all of you talented poets, making it so-so-so-so difficult to choose one to highlight. However, Patricia’s unique take on the prompt, and correlation to her relationship with her father, kept pulling me back. Each stanza seizes my heart, and the lunar pull remains consistent and strong in each. Amazing work.

I Borrowed My Father’s Circular Saw
(By Patricia A. Hawkenson)

When I was young
my arms could curve
all the way to my father’s smile,
and his warmth encircled me
till I saw my dreams.

Then I turned my back
as I built my life,
eclipsing him into darkness,
yet I always knew where he was –
my ebb and flow of life.

Now the dimming stars
foretell his numbered days,
There seems no time to ask him,
“Can we extend our ladders
and demolish these growing clouds?”

 

 

Walt’s pick:

A poet’s life is rife with opportunity to write. And we have our own time where the output matches the opportunity. My time is the night. Many a sleepless night has proffered much in the way of muse. So this poem immediately endeared itself to me and thus, I choose Mike Patrick’s OLD INK as my Bloom.

OLD INK by Mike Patrick

The night is special poets-time.
Tis then the ghosts of poets past
peer o’er our heads and weep
into the liquid ink.
Their inspiration, darkly stained,
doth dance across the page.

With every midnight line
deep scratched on parchment’s face,
new generations find archaic words
best read by candlelight.

I hold no fear for my demise.
When brother Reaper calls my name
my ever-work will then begin.
I’ll find my nights filled as your muse,
a distant whisper in your ear,
and weep a river for your pen.

 

I applaud Marie’s  selection of Patricia’s poem. As another noted son of a carpenter, many a time I stole into Dad’s workshop and “borrowed” his tools. Great work Patricia.

 

And In a departure from the norm, I would be remiss to not acknowledge the work of Benjamin Thomas this week. He had given this prompt a thorough ride. It was very difficult to choose just one of his pieces for the week, because it would disserve the body of work he has amassed. So I will award a special “Beautiful Bouquet” to him for his efforts. Great work poets.

And great work to the rest of our extraordinarily talented poets as well.