July 23 – So tell us about your town, city, state, country… places where you can escape for the day or week to camp, or be amused in a park setting. A place you’ve never been but would like to (have gone) go. Be poetic and we’ll be informed and share your locale.
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
July 22 – CAMP DANCE; SUMMER ROMANCE
July 19 – AMPHIBIANS, ARACHNIDS AND REPTILIANS
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
THE PRESERVE IN AUTUMN
At Big Morongo in the fall,
the cottonwoods, still quivering tall,
trade green for shimmering crowns of gold
and hold the autumn in their thrall
as still-warm days succumb to cold
when nightfall comes. The year has rolled
to yet another breathless pause,
but still the land is calm, consoled
that winter mists its gaps and flaws
with healing rains, a kind of gauze
that softens earth, now hard and sere,
and tempers nature’s implacable laws.
The birds are still abundant here;
the cottonwoods, inviting here;
at Big Monongo in the fall
the year has never seemed so dear.
copyright 2014, William Preston
NB: “Big Morongo” refers to the Big Morongo Canyon Preserve in Morongo Valley, California, on the edge of the Mojave Desert: http://www.bigmorongo.org/
A truly lovely poem, every line a gem.
Lovely poem, and place to see, William.
DARIEN
The best of both worlds, an escape.
For a day or a week, the peace you seek
awaits you. It takes you far away
while keeping you near. It is here
you can pitch a tent and reinvent your psyche,
an isolated place near the lake. It makes
your nerves settle and sends your mettle packing.
You’re only lacking for convenience.
Nearby is Darien Lake amusement park, a stark culture shift
from natural to man-made mayhem. Thrill rides,
hiding spots for picnic lunches and bunches
of kiosks and games; some of the names escape me.
Amphitheater for big name acts; they really pack them in.
Set betwixt Buffalo and Batavia, a short ride for a long day’s
journey to joy. Every man, woman, girl and boy knows
that by the close of day, they’ve seen something good.
For me, this is nostalgic. I haven’t been to Darien Lake in years, and the amusement park wasn’t there then, as I recall, but it was indeed an escape.
The word Darien sent me straight to the Keats sonnet, and then to the opening chapter of Swallows and Amazons, each of which is pure escapism, as is your poem.
My Place
I rather fancy a beach hut,
with a gingerbread porch painted blue.
A proper bed with a mattress,
and a bright hand-made quilt or two.
It would need a little bathroom –
my days of dew-soaked treks are gone –
a camping stove for cups of tea,
and the occasional meal for one.
It could be hidden among the dunes,
on the coast not far from home,
so when the mood takes me for camping
I wouldn’t have far to roam.
A comfy chair in the porch
to idle the days away,
watching the tide as it comes and goes
and the birdlife cabaret.
Thanks for this. It is idyllic indeed, and the closing line is perfect, in my opinion.
I’m putting your last stanza on my dream list for tonight! Beautiful.
PRINCETON
(An aragman poem)
I came to this city, not like a
PRINCE, NOT
like some buzz worder out to conquer
new business horizons.
The two of us
CREPT IN ON ––
CREPT IN? NO!
We arrived in broad daylight
In a U-Haul truck,
our destination
ONCE PRINT
(a map of West Virginia)
Became reality.
We love it here
(And that’s no
CORN, INEPT
Are we at humor
Or imbibing a 100 per
CENT NIP OR
CRONE PINT
Of brew.
We tell it like it is!
PRINCETON
is our Almost-Heaven.
#
Wow. I never heard of that form. I thought maybe I needed new glasses.
I invented the aragman in 2005. It was announced in an article of mine in LongStoryShort.com.
I love puns and anagrams, so this is great for me. I once wrote a sestina, with the end words all anagrams of each other.
Amazing form, Sal!
Escape
Just the surf of
Emerald waters
Lapping steadily
On the shores of
Sugar white sand
And God
© 2014 Earl Parsons
Transports me to the Caribbean, this does.
William – You don’t have to leave the Florida Panhandle.
10,000 Lakes
Water walks with you
wherever you may be,
it may be behind you
or just around that tree.
You can wet your whistle
or just your feet,
you probably can’t walk a mile
without a bit of water to meet.
So if you like water
come to this land,
nature filled her potholes
and life in Minnesota is grand.
This brings to my mind the Lake of the Woods area, at the little chimney atop Minnesota, where Minnesota, Manitoba, and Ontario mingle. Lovely.
Minnesota, eh? I’d thought of Canada or Finland, so I was way wrong!
Not as far as Canada is concerned, methinks.
Hiking to Bear Falls Near Telluride, Colorado
Bright crisp morning beckons.
Golden aspens rattle their song.
Brilliant blue sky welcomes us.
Towering pines tremble.
Magnificent mountains demand admiration.
Busy river rushes by.
Cairns mark the path.
Boulders begrudgingly allow us to pass.
Cheery trekkers greet us.
Rabbits and squirrels dash off.
Deer and elk hide.
Tall falls spritz icy spray,
while we lunch.
Sun bids farewell.
Muscles breathe a sigh of relief.
This is wonderful; it might as well have been a movie camera.
(Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)
Tide Pool, Pacific Coast
It’s in a little town
Where, up late, you can see
Chiton’s midnight walk
Around
The rocky shoreline,
nightly.
This is just lovely, especially the “little town.”
🙂 Thank you, so much, William !!
Shenandoah National Park, Virginia
Southbound on the Skyline Drive,
sagging spirits come alive.
I’m addicted to this place,
breathing in its gentle pace.
Mountain laurel, touch-me-nots,
trumpet vines fill earthen pots.
Red-tailed hawks are often seen
and the falcons Peregrine.
Happy chipmunks stop to eat
fudge they’ve stolen for a treat.
Bear cubs running zag and zig.
Mom behind them, head quite big!
Overlooks with gorgeous views
stimulate the muse in Sooze.
Nothing here leaves me distraught,
angry, sad or overwrought.
Nature’s playground brings me peace,
subtle joys I pray won’t cease.
All I witness makes me thrive
‘til I’m back on Skyline Drive.
© Susan Schoeffield
This is lovely; I think the Commonwealth should buy it from you.
Love the idea of nature as a playground!! Beautiful poem, Susan!
[…] for Day 23 of Creative Bloomings “Granada Camp for Wayward Poets” where we’re prompted to write a poem about places in a park setting where we go to escape from […]
AT DWYER STADIUM
In Batavia they have a team
that plays the summer game;
it’s in the lowest minor league
and Muckdogs is its name.
Most players there will never star
in either major league;
sometimes their skill is raw and rough
and causes fan fatigue,
but all in all it’s plain to see
they really try. In short,
they play because they really care,
and really love the sport.
So, still and all the summer game
is still the place to go
as summer fades and heaven’s stars
replace the twilight glow
copyright 2014, William Preston
This causes me to want to go check out a game or two…with a couple of boys I suppose I’m bound to. Great descriptions and for me, your closing with nature is perfect. 🙂
[…] Creative Bloomings-GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – YOUR AREA ADVENTURES […]
Outside the Box
All we’ll need is a back pack
a bottle of fresh drinking water
a small portion of sunflower seeds
bird, tree and wildflower handbooks
a couple of blank pieces of paper
a few pens and willing spirits
the wind and a smiling dog
small feet – big imaginations
and hearts ignited with nature.
The climb is challenging yet gentle
the voyage is expanding and genuine,
it’s beyond our door – spun of Gaia’s song.
All we’ll need is the breath in our lungs.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
This poem centered almost looks like a bottle of water. 🙂
Mine’s not very informative of where I am but only of what we do.
I love the sheer optimism of this poem, mainly as expressed in the final line..
A Royal River Bank
By the banks of the river
near the Taj Mahal
is a perfect spot to introspect
and marvel in the wonders
of all the worlds breathing in time
There is an ancient encircling presence
of ageless love and illusive death
that shifts with sunlight cues and
unfolds majestically
the essence of its marble in
teardrops of moonbeams
Intricately etched ivory
flickering a sacredness in
the eternal beauty of longing, and love
and the power inlayed in loss and ache
A misty breeze sings a haunting soothe
emerging from the heart of the lotus lake
definitely not just man made
Its a place of perfect balance,
lush and green symmetry
earthy heat and cooling hues
a white reach for the splendors of the blue sky
and all its unseen and visible shimmers
where all one needs to do is simply stare
and inhale royal hues of
exquisite elemental beauty
that congregates here
by the banks of the river
This is so lovely, the real thing might not measure up to it.
Sounds ideal!
I haven’t done Colorado justice, but better something than nothing . . .
COLORADO CHRISTIAN WRITERS CONFERENCE
Rocky Mountain high
My Colorado
Unparalleled home
To live, love, and play
YMCA camp
At their footsteps lays
Once a year scribes meet
To learn, write and pray
Elks bugle the dawn
Two miles high sucks breath
Praise songs fill the dome
Wagons ride to lawn
Campfire, beans, and songs
Early mornings, I am drawn
By God’s voice in horse’s neigh
Celebration day
I think this is a lot more than “something.” It actually reminds me of a song about another state, The Everlasting Hills of Oklahoma.
Crater Lake
Touted as the bluest, deepest lake
in the United States, Crater Lake
is a place I would love to see,
especially since it is in
the same State as me. I want
to view The Old Man of the Lake,
a tree said to be floating there
for one hundred years. Wouldn’t you
love to visit a place formed by
a volcano? When I go, it will not
be to camp. You can; I won’t.
This brought back memories; I saw that lake once. It was lovely, as is this poem.
Thanks so much, William. I am going to try making reservations for next summer.
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