July 12 – Using just this photo for inspiration, craft your poem.
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
July 11 – BOY CAMP / GIRL CAMP
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July 12 – Using just this photo for inspiration, craft your poem.
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
July 11 – BOY CAMP / GIRL CAMP
Published by
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
TREK
We may not know what we’ll be finding
through deserts hot and snowstorms blinding
but let us always be together
through whims of worry, want, and weather.
There’s a long, long trail a-winding.
copyright 2014, William Preston
please pardon my sloppiness; only one “and” in the penultimate line
It happens to us all. That’s why, for me, it’s better to put the poem on my blog, where I can edit it!
All fixed, Bill! W.
Thanks!
Beautiful, William… that thought is the first thing that jumped out of my pen and onto my page this morning…
Love that William and my eyes skipped right past the extra ‘and’, didn’t even notice it.
Now, there’s the company I want on a trail.
Nice, William. I like it.
EXPLORATION
Holding our breath in reverence
for the mystery of the forest
we’ll explore the dangers ahead
timid yet brave for adventure,
breathing in good fresh air.
How to escape the labyrinth?
Tie a string and trail it behind,
leave paterans of twigs at junctions
or cut blazes in bark to point the way?
Keep an eye out for monsters
or maybe a bear.
Collect pebbles in pockets.
build a cairn at the top
to show that we were there.
I Love this, Viv!!
Me, too, and thanks for reminding me of some little-used (by me anyway) words.
Yes, all the exciting kinds of fun that kids think of.
I love it, from the description of the scene and the nod to fairy tales from an adult’s POV
Or all of those things if you’d been walking behind my dad. Love this, Viv. Brings back memories of green days spent slogging up and down and through forest folds near and far.
I love this, Viv. It has a true story ring to it.
[…] How to escape the labyrinth? Tie a string and trail it behind, leave paterans of twigs at junctions or cut blazes in bark to point the way? Keep an eye out for monsters or maybe a bear. Collect pebbles in pockets for a cairn at the top to show that we were there. Day 12 of the Granada Camp for Wayward Poets Challenge at Poetic Bloomings […]
Let’s Go
Let’s go on an adventure
for there are dragons waiting to be slain
and caves chocked full of treasures,
riches and wonders beyond measure.
Let’s go on an adventure
for there are species in nature
that maybe we can discover
or perhaps the Earhart plane
in a thick forest the resting remains.
Let’s go on an adventure
for there are mysteries to be solved
or perhaps a door to the past
or a different dimension
amazing things awaiting our attention.
Oh, let’s go on an adventure.
I love this, including the allusion to Amerlia.
drat… Amelia.
: )
Oh, my, all the wonderful adventures!
beautifully written – a pleasure to read.
Thank you, Viv
Yes! That’s how we always felt. Wonderful, Debi. Love it.
Wonderful tale, Debi!
LIFE’S JOURNEY
There they stand hand-in-hand
traveling to another land.
Not a one is in command,
but they walk together to explore.
Entering through nature’s door,
across the bridge’s mossy floor,
step-by-step they work, these four
together on their way.
Knowing soon there will come a day,
when they will go their separate ways,
but for now, and come what may,
they’re together hand-in-hand.
This says “family” as well as anythi9ng can, in my opinion. Wonderful.
This is sweet
I’m hearing echoes of Narnia in several of today’s poems. . .an awesome quartet.
Childhood friendships seem to last well. I like the philosophy behind this poem.
Lovely, Walt, and so true to the pic. Wonderful rhyme scheme and flow, too. As usual, you have a great example.
I am feeling melancholy now. Wonderful, Walt.
STAYING THE COURSE
I try my best
with puffed-up chest
to pass each test
life throws my way
and safe to say
there is no day
I choose to play
when duty calls
I break down walls
I fist through brawls
I take the falls
I hold your hand
‘cross logs and sand
through sea and land
I will not quit
I rise when hit
it keeps me fit
though I admit
someday I’ll lose
earn one last bruise
burn out my fuse
sing loud the blues
but for right now
I will not bow
I took a vow
to try my best
refuse to rest
I do not jest
let me confess
I feel I’m blessed
#
Wonderful closing line as well as the rhymes that flow
lovely fun, with truth behind it.
I admire a poem that makes monorhyming work so well, as this does.
Terrific, Sal. You know me, I don’t do rhyme often and I’d never tackle something like this. Love it.
Perfect title for this lovely poem
HIDDEN
Leafy
Barky
Mossy
Scary
Trail map left out leafy, barky log
Taking us through mossy, scary bog
Coming up with titles for poems is as hard as titles for books. Every now and then I get lucky–not this time!
Wow, this is impressive; that form is a tough one, in my opinion.
Thanks, William. It was just the right form for what I wanted to say this time.
Oh, nice and difficult form, too
Thanks!
I know what you mean about titles, Darlene. This one has charm in its brevity and staccato style. I like this a lot and grinned through it all. 🙂 How about “Nearly Speechless with Fear” as a title, or is that too long?
Or a one word title “Trepidation”
Trepidation – I like that. Thanks for brainstorming.
Hey, it’s something I’m really good at. You’re welcome.
Wow! You took a tough form, and made a beautiful poem with it.
Each line could be a title – material here for lots of poems.
Thanks, Viv
The Trail
Faced with decision between friend or foe
they pursue the trail that appears
less trodden.
Hand in hand they walk beyond
(though on different sides of the line)
the refuge the path provides.
Into the great unknown
determination on their faces shown.
Solitary in their struggles
but no longer alone.
Chi Holder
I love this, for itself and for the echo of Frost.
Solitary in their struggles but no longer alone… lovely truth.
This is wonderful, Chi. Marvelous premise and execution. I like it.
The Sweetness of Youth
They bicker
as all siblings do,
but when on vacation
all things become new.
The joys they experience
together or alone,
are all the more sweeter
when facing the unknown.
So when on a trek
through mysterious woods,
they walked hand-n-hand
while carrying the goods.
The eldest leads the way
keeping them all safe,
the youngest in the middle
so they don’t lose the waif.
They’re going on an adventure
where memories will form,
if only these moments
were always the norm.
Exceptional; this belongs in a “for the soul” book of some sort, in my view.
Thank you so much William. Your comment made my day. 🙂
I love this Michelle
Thanks! 🙂
Love it, Michelle. It tells more than one tale and creates a kind of song-like rhythm in its pacing. Terrific!
I could see this leading to a children’s adventure story, Michelle.
Beautiful picture, but sorry life comes in the way of words today–
I just have a one line offering for now—-
My hand in yours- that’s all-
That’s a sweet offering.
Perhaps you only need to sleep on it, Priti. That’s how it is for me sometimes. I just won’t get anything beyond a mental image or a line. It might take a couple of days before the rest falls into place. You’ll get there. No fears on that.
Snackacide
If you wear sandals,
If you wear shorts,
Then say Bon appetit
To ticks and midges,
Bites and scratches,
And those crawling
Squidges underfoot.
Hikers, campers, cover-up,
Spray your arms,
And play it safe.
It’s an all-you-can-eat
Snackacide out there.
… and it’s sticky, becides. Thanks for another guffaw
😀 …. Becides. Hehehe
LOL Oh, MIsky, you do my heart good each day with these poems. I get a good laugh each time and an hillarious mental picture to boot. I love this, even more because with the skeeters around here this year, it’s so true.
Keep them coming, Misk. I look forward to each new one.
You two! ha, I’m loving the cides.
Crossing that Bridge
A journey begins with a single step.
We can try. Let’s begin. Please…hold my hand.
Life’s precarious. Sometimes, one can’t prep,
but together, we’ll make it all seem planned.
We can try. Let’s begin. Please…hold my hand,
since hand in hand we’ll form a link, a bond.
See, together, we’ll make it all seem planned.
Let us correspond; let us go beyond.
Since hand in hand we’ll form a link, a bond,
we will learn of trust and humanity.
Let us correspond; let us go beyond.
To give in to fear is insanity.
And in that first step, we will each have grown.
Life’s precarious. Sometimes, one can’t prep,
so let’s not postpone that which waits, unknown:
a journey begins with a single step.
###
I love this, RJ, especially for its form. It drills home the premise and the continuing nature of a bond and holding hands. Well done.
This is just great.
Four-In-One
On fallen tree we cross as one
Hand in hand holding tight
Dried moss and bark danger presents
Keep watch lest one would slip
Sure foot
Keen eye
And hands held tight
I lead with cautious confidence
Trust that I will guide you right
No obstacle that lay before
Will keep us from the hidden goal
Sure foot
Keen eye
And hands held tight
Our journey thus far has been rough
Through thicket, stream, and dark of night
Onward we trek through come what may
Our God will keep us safe from harm
Sure foot
Keen eye
And hands held tight
© 2014 Earl Parsons
Lovely, Earl. I really like how the journey outlined has so many angles and meanings. Excellent.
I love that refrain.
I needed a while to put my thoughts and impressions together for this one. The immediate idea was good, but I wanted to say something specific.
Bush Craft
You broke trail for us,
Kept us safe and moving,
Along whichever winding track
Took us forward.
You seldom flinched when
our whining held whimpers
on damp forest hillsides; you still
took us forward.
Whatever the game,
Mushrooms, rabbits, or squirrels,
You guided our adventures and
Took us forward.
Your forest trails taught
Us how to move through life,
How to guide ourselves to take
Ourselves forward.
I hear this as a tribute to a leader or teacher. Well penned, this.
Thank you, William. To my parents, actually. The poem was quite literal. They began our bush craft lessons when we were quite young. We were expected to take the lessons and extrapolate to our lives in general. For the most part we did.
(Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)
“Let’s Pretend”
Sail along with me
Over turbulent seas
I will hold your hand
Carry us along until
We reach land.
I’m singing this one. Lovely.
Thank you, William!!
Treasure Hunters
A flickering torch lit the way down the narrow path.
We could not see the bottom of the chasm.
We held hands, as well as our breath.
We inched forward, ever so slowly.
Emeralds and gold glittered merely yards away.
Through the centuries, men older and wiser
than us had searched for this treasure
hidden by a band of pirates from a tropical isle.
We almost made it.
But Mom called us home for lunch.
Love this, Connie.
Me, too.
The Crossing
Marty wondered if his decision
to take his brother and sisters
across the river on a log
was wise. All eyes were glued
to grooves in which they
could step. Water rushed
under the log, slapping at
the bottom. Marty warned them
to keep holding hands. If one
of the kids stumbled,
they would all end up in water
of an unknown depth.
Truly…I like that you bring the unseen facet of this image, Sara…very imaginative!
Thanks, Hannah.
For me, this suggested “one for all,” with a twist.
So true, William.
Makes me think this should be in a book cause I want to know more. Nice Sara
Thanks, Debi. I will think about that, placing it on my Think About It List, list.
[…] Creative Bloomings- GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – PICTURE PERFECT […]
Breath of the Passed
Let’s hand in hand travel this land
the home of the great fallen ones.
Let’s steady ourselves as one –
become stronger in our numbers
in a single linked line we’ll journey.
On this bridge as a human strand
we’ll trek the wreckage tenderly
finding careful footing on their beautiful remains.
As organic beings we balance on the breath of the past,
on their broad trunk-bodies we follow the parallel path.
Together we’ll explore looking for the pulse
as one we’ll discover the rest of the forest –
we’ll pay our respects to the great fallen ones
hand in hand we’ll travel this land.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
For me, this conjured up images of nurse logs. Love it.