July 22 – We’re winding down this month of camping. And we always celebrate it with the Camp Dance. Maybe we met new friends and earned new infatuations; maybe we re-kindled old acquaintances. Either way, we want you to write a summer romance (love) poem. (And I hope you all realized, this month was never about the camp, it was about writing a poem a day. If you ventured near any aspect of these prompts, you earned your accolades!)
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
TROTH
I love you, darling. This, I know:
deep in my soul I love you so.
Your love is balm that soothes my heart;
a comfort even though we part.
My days of life are filled with you,
in visions sharp and clear and true,
and in a dance forever in tune;
united as the stars and moon.
No matter how our lives may go,
I love you, darling; that, you must know.
copyright 2014, William Preston
I love the unity in the stars and moon…I found the stars and moon in my piece as well. This poem holds a reliable cadence cause for a dance-like rhythm…I enjoyed this, William!
IN THE MIDDLE OF A TUNE
WE STOPPED DANCING
Like a canary in a coal mine
she stopped singing.
Suddenly in mid-note she turned
her back and walked away.
Tell me then, what is that song
lilting in my head?
I heard it once again
while I was sleeping.
She stopped singing all those songs
we set our feet to dancing,
happy songs to start and end
the routines of our day.
In a coda of silence she walked away.
Now the air is just air,
the birds do what they can,
but it’s never quite the same.
The notes of her melodies
once danced everywhere,
so much so we stepped in line
and swore her songs defined us,
but she stopped singing.
Silence reared its monster mouth
and in a flash devoured
all her joyful tunes.
In the throes of play,
without warning nor goodbye,
she gathered up her songs
and walked away
#
Wow. Magnificent.
Gorgeous poem, Sal. I love it.
DANCING TO MY OWN TUNE
out of kilter
with the world
I slow dance
to the booming
discord of rap
#
This little piece fascinates me, mainly because of the word, “discord.”
Walt! Thank you for the reminder that the focus is on writing a poem a day!! Yesterday, I spent all day trying to write my wordle and being disappointed because it just didn’t sound right!!
The notice here, Henri, is our numbers are way down. I think to many saw the camping theme as undesirable or un-doable. But the theme has ALWAYS been secondary to the process. If you want to follow the camping lead, you’re welcome to. But any prompt could stand alone with you poems. Creative Bloomings has always been about you and your poetry. W.
Yes, a good reminder!! 🙂 !!
I think it makes for great practice in the challenge of seeing the angle that we do find desirable in the realm of prompts and in “real” life, too. There’s always a way to transform things that might not feel poetic into poetry, I believe.
I’m grateful for all of the inspiration this month, Walt…thank you!
Campfire Romance
To the tune
of peep frogs and crickets,
Kumbaya and acoustic tones by the fire,
your eyes flickered,
reflecting the flame of my heart.
When we go our separate ways
will the fire fade
to glowing embers
and then finally snuff out,
dead and cold?
Campfire, candlelight; the eternal question. Wonderful.
Love the nature tune in your opening, Connie!
I love the poem and its title.
First
A cascade of stars
was all I could see,
as she was walking
forward to me.
She grabbed my hand
and pulled me out,
to dance with her
I wanted to shout.
The tempo slowed down
and she snuggled in close,
I held her in my arms…
wow, girls aren’t gross.
My friends were snickering
but I gave them no mind,
I had heaven in my arms
they were just blind.
I led her away
from those snickering fools,
gave her a kiss
we broke a few rules.
I’ve never forgotten
my first dance and kiss,
it was the first time
I discovered true bliss.
Thi9s sounds right and feels right, or so i remember from many moons ago.
summer memories
wrapped in a crumpled tissue…
a charm against time
Perfect!
Indeed so. Exquisite.
Eye Contact
The link, before the blink of the eye
The glimmer before the light sees the sky
The silence, before we shape our words
A signal from,– ‘out there’, that senses unfurl
Just a look, a flick, a feeling, a glance,
Can make your insides sing and dance
So many, soooo many scrolls out there
But, there is pure magic, in just one stare
Expansions, contractions involuntary reactions
Some illusive transactions, magnetic refractions
Antennas serenading, unseen, unspoken
With echoes and rhythms, of songs from the ocean
Is it my mind conspiring a dream?
Or is there really a stream in the gleam?
Some shooting stars from heavens above
An uplifting joy, a fallingin love’!
I can’t remember what I said to him
And don’t recall the name of his skin
But, nothing can REALLY explain the game
Why, nothing felt —the same again!!
Excellent write, Priti!
This grabbed me from the opening line. Beautiful sounds and sense throughout.
I’ve done most of them, and have written at least 1 poem a day, sometimes 3 or 4, sometimes to other people’s prompts. I’ve just spent about 3 hours proofreading for my daughter and then lost the document, and spent another two hours trying to find it, so poetry is now the last thing on my mind!
I’m so sorry, VIv…that’s awful. My heart goes out to you and I hope that somehow it was recovered somewhere and can be retrieved. Sigh…
Kudos to such an awesome active month and summer for poetry! 🙂
Yes,Hannah. I found it eventually, after a teachin from Sally over the ‘phone.
Oh, thank goodness!! I had something similar happen one and also needed technical assistance to bring it back. So glad for you, Viv! 🙂
CAMPING HEAT
The last glowing ember
will make me remember the spark.
It was more than a lark
we enjoyed in the dark. Fire,
flames shooting higher
than those on a pyre, would be
the defining of “we”
warming any cold December.
© Susan Schoeffield
Excellent likening love to fire. 🙂
Ah, sweet bliss of love.
I love this. The rhyming is captivating.
[…] for Day 22 of Creative Bloomings “Grenada Camp for Wayward Poets”. The prompt was to write a romance/love […]
(Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)
Wallflower
What would we do if we could dance?
A sensuously close melding
Lighter than the very air we
Breathe…
Ooo…love the melding and the lighter than air sentiment…so true, Hen. 🙂
🙂 yesss…. Thank you, Hannah!!
This is great; steams a bit, too.
Thank you, William, these words, I think, sometimes have little independent minds of their own; then they talk among themselves and decide how they want to present themselves to my pure, white page… 😀 !!
Mixed Up Love
Monday last we all showed up
Gathered together in the meeting hall
So glad to see friends from last year
And time to check out the new faces
Met the counselors and the staff
The cooks, lifeguards, and medics
Got the schedule of events and
Our cabin assignments and bedding
At Bible Camp there’s so much to do
On the move every wakin’ hour
All endin’ in the Friday Mixer
A time to mix things up and dance
We all packed one special outfit
Just to impress other’s at the Mixer
For me I’d already picked my prey
Been watchin’ her every day from afar
All scrubbed up and smellin’ good
Makin’ my move at the Friday Mixer
Gonna’ practice and time it just right
Hopin’ she gives in to my charms
There she is comin’ through the door
Prettier than ever, all the jaws drop
The boys gather ‘round her like vultures
She ignores every last one of them
I take a deep breath and look her way
Shocked that she’s lookin’ over at me
With a smile and a wink she beckons
Make way for love at the Friday Mixer
© 2014 Earl Parsons
I love the gumption conjured up in that last moment and the progression toward the closing thoughts…delivered nicely, Earl. 🙂
Amen to that.
By the way, I really like the camp theme. It’s brought back a lot of memories from days long past.
[…] Creative Bloomings-GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE […]
Myth-Makers
It feels like it’s only you and just me in this sphere of a moment and within this sensation of only us we’re held in un-pop-able magic – we’re seized in a just-us-starriness. We breathe deeply of this no-goodbyes-breath unwilling to leave this pulsing-present-instant, not ready yet to rest and allow only us to shift into just memories. We’re not prepared to let Love’s reflection fade from our lake’s sapphire surface but we’ll be sure to walk away without regrets – when the time arrives there’ll be no wish-I-would-haves lingering here. We’re those last persistent dragonflies, hungry-swooping gathering in all that we can while we can. We’re a nesting pair of arrow-tailed swallows determined to try for one more clutch. We’ve discovered telling patterns in each other’s pores – storied one another’s skin and read, in full length, the mystery of our eyes but still we begin afresh. As new butterflies alighting on a sunny leaf to dry their wings, we open slowly – enthralled with it all.
We’re myth-makers
memorizing only us –
moon as our witness.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
I think this is superb. The hyphenated constructs have a subtle wizardry, and the sensual images set up the concluding haiku so well. Wonderful haibun, this.
Thank you so much, William! That you used “subtle wizardry,” to describe my approach makes me so happy…I love that! 🙂
Granada Gala
Cody asked Charlotte if she’d like to dance.
Charlotte had thought she did not have a chance,
’cause Marsha posed like a movie star,
batted long lashes at him from afar.
Beth had eyes of cobalt blue,
and jet black hair in a fancy do.
Cody and Charlotte danced all night;
they later star-gazed by firelight.
With only one week to go until camp’s end,
they were inseparable, rounding each bend.
The two exchanged addresses, pledging to write
every day of their love so bright.
Cody gave Charlotte a wood-carved rose;
they swore they’d marry, but you know how that goes.
Excellent, especially the wry final line.
Thanks, William.
[…] July 22 – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE […]
[…] July 22 – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE […]
[…] July 22 – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE […]
[…] July 22 – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE […]
[…] July 22 – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE […]