POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

PROMPT #203 – SOMETHING’S MISSING

Sometimes things end up looking like a gap-toothed smile because something is missing. It could be a vital something or just a thing that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. Write that something. You could be missing home, or a person. Maybe something you lost? Conversely, you could write about finding something. Just put it into words and we’ll fill in the gaps.

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13 thoughts on “PROMPT #203 – SOMETHING’S MISSING

  1. William Preston on said:

    IN THE DREAR OF DECEMBER,

    the copper beech atop the hill,
    its crown beseeching heaven still,
    gives me the feeling it is ill.
    I think it grieves;
    its sorrow will remain until
    it gains new leaves.

  2. I ONCE WAS LOST

    For too long, faith was a sparrow
    bobbing its gray head in puddles
    I sidestepped to save the luster
    of my black patent shoes.

    If only that bird would alight
    on my shoulder, peck at my cheek,
    see the Assisi saint in me,
    and fly into my heart!

    Oh, what a foolish man I was
    to think that faith would break down doors
    and force itself on those content
    to live far from the Lord!

    In night dreams too I walked alone
    where deep in the forest a voice
    urged me to ask, knock on His door,
    humble myself in prayer.

    Now faith is an eagle that soars
    higher than these two eyes can see.
    Filled with hope, my life is good now.
    What I found has saved me.

    #

  3. Judy Roney on said:

    Arkansas

    I’ve never been here before.
    Never knew where Morrilton was.
    Never saw cows called Big Red’s,
    or dreamed I’d be here with friends.

    Here in an Arkansas state park
    On the top of Petit Jean Mountain
    I stay in a grey and white house
    With four other artists and friends.

    We paint, talk, and I write.
    Look forward to each day.
    With new sights in a new place,
    record them on canvas and mind.

    Each stroke is a memory captured,
    Each person we meet is a joy.
    I’m reminded of all these blessings
    as I sit here with coffee and pen.

    Today is now the fourth day
    I’m rushing to paint, experience;
    be tolerant of the feeling I have
    of wanting to get back home.

  4. connielpeters on said:

    Something’s Missing

    Something’s missing.
    Energy’s spent.
    My got up and go
    got up and went.

  5. HOME…HOME.. HOME SICK

    Since my mom
    passed in 2013,
    I have had
    three homes.
    My moms
    which I’ll call this
    Home Warwick.

    My girlfriends
    Home in Providence.
    The only home that
    I had to key to.
    I’ll call this
    Home Providence.

    My home in
    Lake City, Florida
    The area
    I came
    to settle into.
    I’ll call this
    Home Lake City.

    I’ve been torn
    between these
    homes.
    On account of
    death and probate.

    I flew from
    Lake City, Florida
    To Providence, Rhode Island
    On the advice of
    my attorney
    to handle probate.

    First, it required
    that I clean
    out Home Warwick.
    While staying at
    Home Providence.
    Missing Home Lake City.

    It’s been
    five months
    since I’ve seen
    my home in
    Lake City.

    This trip,
    that was suppose
    to be short.
    No more than
    two months,
    has turned into
    an eternity.

    I am just
    home sick.

    I hope and
    pray
    that I
    get home
    soon.

    Copyright © TMC 2016

  6. Pick Up The Phone

    Reach for phone
    to share good news
    with Dad. He is always
    enthused if you are.
    I pull my arm back. Won’t work.
    He is gone . . . yet again.

    Wonder what Mom thinks
    about this election circus.
    Ever sarcastic, political,
    and critical of fools, I would
    want her opinion. No use.
    If she were still here, I would call.

    How does my cousin
    make her Spanish coffee
    so delicious. Next time
    she makes it, I will ask
    again. Then I realize
    there will not be a next time.

    Voices and faces will never be
    replaced by electronic mail.

  7. HOME SICK
    As days
    Go bye

    Tear’s
    mask the torture
    of past
    and present

    Home
    so close
    yet so far
    away

    Waiting
    is mind
    blowing

    Trying to get
    home… ..

    Will I ever
    see
    my home
    again

    Lost in drama

    Drama was
    not part of
    life

    Today it is…

    Copyright © TMC 2016

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