POETIC BLOOMINGS

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

MARIE ELENA GOOD

Me with Eamon“MARIE”  – an acrostic profile poem

MERCIFUL.
She finds it easy to be merciful, as she experiences daily the mercy of her God.

APPROACHABLE.
Welcoming eyes and ready smile … not peculiar enough to frighten, nor so lovely as to intimidate.

REDEEMED.
Sinner-deemed-sinless, a debt she can’t pay.

INDEBTED.
Humbly and deeply thankful for parents who taught much, and loved regardless; an abundance of encouraging, uplifting, loyal friends and extended family; and mostly her Creator, whose unyielding love, grace, and mercy breathe her very existence.

ENTHUSIASTIC.
Taught by her father that “Nothing great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~I bring to the garden my birth-month flower:  the Marigold. This simple, understated flower means “winning grace.”

Walt Wojtanik and I also shared a once-upon-a-blog:  Across the Lake, Eerily.  

One of my favorite “duties” (a great privilege) for our site is interviewing other poets and special guests.  Links to each interview may be found in the upper menu, or at this link:  http://poeticbloomings.com/web-wednesday-interviews/.

Walt made me change chairs, and HE interviewed ME.  Walt’s Interview with me  9/14/2011

© All postings and intellectual materials on this page are property of Marie Elena Good.

171 thoughts on “MARIE ELENA GOOD

  1. OF DANDELIONS AND MANICURES

    One edges, tidies, snips, and trims,
    Who knows nothing of dreams and whims.

    One scatters dandelion seeds,
    Who understands a daydream’s needs.

    ~~~

    Dedicated to our mutual friend, Jerry Walraven [“Chev”], who knows of dandelion fluff and other whimsical wonders.

    *Prompt #1. Write a “seed” poem.

  2. POPPA
    (For my husband: living proof that a “step” grandfather loves no less)

    At the sight of him,
    The blue eyes of her 24-pound frame light up,
    She flashes a two-toothed smile,
    Lifts pudgy little hands toward the ceiling,
    And clearly says, “Poppa.”

    At the sight of her,
    The blue eyes of his 220-pound frame soften,
    He beams from tip to toe,
    Extends muscular arms to scoop her up,
    And tenderly says, “There’s my pumpkin.”

    At the sight of these exchanges,
    My own eyes regularly mist,
    My already full heart floods
    With more love than it can contain. Love
    For her, for him, and for the God of second chances.

    ~~~

    *Prompt #29. Write a love poem.

    Happy Valentine’s Day to my Keith.

  3. CRY ME A RIVER
    (or, Graduate Student’s Lament)

    Determination: diluted.
    Social life: evaporated
    Spirits: dampened.

    Life is but a mist.
    A mere drop in the bucket.

    Then Graduate School
    rained on his parade.

    Pour soul.
    I drought he knew
    how swamped he would be,
    nor how utterly drained
    his pockets.

    But,
    that’s water under the bridge.

    His assets, now liquid,
    it’s full steam ahead.

    *Prompt #2: Write a water poem

  4. “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” Matthew 4:4.

    Sustenance (A Kyrielle)

    A seed lay wilting deep within;
    Its shallow roots were frail and thin.
    The Gardener spoke; its soul was stirred
    To feast upon God’s sovereign Word.

    Its thirsty roots took hold and fed,
    Reached deeper down, increased, and spread.
    A miracle of life was spurred
    By feasting on God’s sovereign Word.

    Exquisite blooms released sweet scent,
    Dispersing precious seeds, once spent.
    Please, tender sprouts, don’t be deterred
    From feasting on God’s sovereign Word.

    *Prompt #3: Out of something bad, something good.

  5. Nurturing Sophie (A Kimo)

    She looks into my eyes, her smile blossoms,
    and it becomes crystal clear
    she’s flourishing with love.

    *Prompt #4: Fruits of our labors

  6. Prompt #5 is a photo prompt. My daughter, Deanna Marie Metts, took this evocative shot: http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/05/29/eye-of-the-beholder-prompt-5/ .

    Haiku

    apprehensively
    she walks the path assigned her
    softly detaching

  7. MY HEART TURNS TOWARD YOU

    Perched above, on weathered stone,
    I drink in the autumn colors
    below and about.
    My eyes see, but they cannot grasp
    the full wonder.

    And my heart turns toward You.

    You paint the scene before me,
    with a palette mixed by Your own Hand.
    You fashion the vista,
    continually blending color;
    the scene ever changing at Your whim.

    Your sun travels across the canvas,
    altering hues as it gently falls
    as a silk scarf in scarce breeze.
    Gold catches my eye, where it was shadowed
    only moments ago.

    Leaves, as scarlet as turned rubies,
    shimmer, then fade.
    Clouds veil Your sun.
    Emerald, pumpkin, alabaster, and onyx
    gleam against a silver sky.

    Crickets sing, while hawk calls.
    Trickling water chuckles in the distance.
    Limbs moan with the breeze.
    Crisp leaves crunch beneath the weight
    of Your forest creatures.

    Nature’s song is broken by two who happen on this path.
    They pause to survey the wonder below, and about.
    Their chatter halts,
    as they are overtaken in awe
    of the magnificent display.

    The moment of silence breaks, with a nearly whispered
    “Oh my God – look at this.”
    I smile.
    Do they know they have just paid homage
    to The Artist?

    And my heart turns toward You.

    *Prompt #6: Color my world

  8. What sort of poet has a difficult time choosing between Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky … and King David? I finally chose King David, who truly is the ultimate praise poet. I have so many favorite lines from his psalms, but must say that I am partial to De Jackson’s life-motto: From Psalm 61, a psalm of David: “And I’ll be the poet who sings your glory – and live what I sing every day.” This has become my own personal daily prayer as well. Several of the psalmist’s expressed feelings found their way into my sonnet, below.

    AN IMPERFECT POET

    My Lord is great, and greatly to be praised.
    In Him, I live and breathe, and take delight.
    Yet, even though I’m awed and stand amazed,
    My hollow words do not reflect His might.

    How regal is Your name in all the earth!
    Lord, who am I, that You would care for me?
    Creator of my heart before my birth,
    I long for it to be a light for Thee.

    Now, “may the meditation of my mind,
    And words upon my lips,” as David urged,
    “Be pleasing in Your sight,” and may You find
    Offensive ways concealed in me, now purged.

    Imperfect poet, bound in mercy’s frame,
    I seek to daily lift Your sacred name.

    Prompt #7: Take your favorite line, from your favorite poem, by your favorite poet. Make that line the inspiration and title of your poem. Shine a fresh new light and write.

  9. Prompt #8: Use words from the crossword grid to write your poem: http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/06/19/never-a-cross-word-prompt-8/

    ASSETS

    Once upon a moment,
    The moon’s aura rested
    At my window,
    Leaving silver-plated packages
    Of windfall in my name.

    I believed that door to be
    Slammed.
    Sealed at the whim of a heretic.

    What then could I do,
    But prepare to lay my head
    On the pillow-less aluminum cot
    Of an uneasy future
    Of shopping center pleasantries
    And pyramid schemes?

    But I have a fairy in my pocket
    And a penny rebel’s heart.

    Morning broke.
    I collected my being.

    Concierge?

  10. Haiku

    Peering down on earth
    From my perch upon the moon
    I see no borders.

    Prompt #9: Vantage Point … Deep Space Nine

  11. Changed for Good

    “We’re just friends,” you said.
    “We’re just friends,” said I.
    And I believed you,
    And you believed me.

    “We’re just friends,” you said.
    “We’re just friends,” said I.
    But you doubted you,
    And I doubted me.

    Came tickles and pokes,
    And glances and notes;
    Then gazes and hugs,
    And lingering goodbyes.

    “I love you,” you said.
    “I love you,” said I.
    And I believed you,
    And you believed me.

    “I love you,” you said.
    “I love you,” said I.
    No doubt on your part,
    No doubt upon mine.

    “For richer, for poorer,
    In sickness and health”
    Eternally altered,
    Our lives intertwined.

    *Prompt #10: A Friend, Indeed

  12. REMAINS

    All that remained was
    a torn life and shattered dreams.
    And then he entered.

    And then he entered,
    bonding fragments together,
    stronger than before.

    Stronger than before,
    and ready to trust again,
    confidence returned.

    Confidence returned,
    life was regained, and his love
    was all that remained.

    *Prompt #11: Phoenix Rising

  13. NONNA’S CHERRY TREE (A poem for children)

    A limb that’s low enough for me,
    Lifts me up so I can see
    Nonna, picking sugar peas,
    Apron blowing in the breeze.

    A comfy spot to read my book
    Overlooks a lively brook,
    Where the water froths and foams,
    Tadpoles scurry to their homes.

    In a hollowed knot, I spy
    Rotting wood, and ants that fly.
    Up above, I spot a nest.
    Momma bird fights off a pest.

    Cherries, juicy-ripe and sweet,
    Some for baking; some to eat
    Just-picked with my own two hands,
    Dropping into metal pans.

    Oops! I find a worm in one
    That’s when I decide I’m done.
    So, I climb down from my spot;
    Dump my cache from pans to pot.

    Nonna helps me carry them,
    Then I help her pit and stem.
    Next, I help my Nonna bake
    Cherry pie; black forest cake.

    Nonna lets me spend the night,
    Tucks me in, and says, “Sleep tight!”
    Then I dream I’m flying free,
    Smiling down on Nonna’s tree.

    (Note from Marie Elena: Though this poem is make-believe, it was inspired by my own Nonna’s cherry tree, which was quite special to all of us grandchildren.)

    Prompt #12: Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral?

  14. Introspective Perspective

    Irrespective,
    my prospective objective
    and selective directive,
    though defective, were effective.

    *Prompt #13: Go for the Gold

  15. Nothing Lost

    As I embrace One who was slain,

    and forfeit self, what will I gain?

    Eternal life in Christ is mine

    not of my self, but His design.

    His agony, my boundless gain

    corrupted self cannot attain.

    In death to self I gain no loss,

    my life secured on Calvary’s cross.

    ~~~

    Inspired by Luke 9:24-25.“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self?”

    *Prompt #14: Lost and Found

  16. Prompt #15 is another photo prompt: http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/08/06/view-from-a-park-bench-prompt-15/ .

    Park Bench

    As I near my autumn days,
    I think of all I have not experienced.
    No trips abroad.
    No vacation home.
    No award-winning book.
    No fame.
    No second-glance beauty.
    I think of all I have not experienced.
    Yet, let the autumn leaves summon,
    For I am content to sit side-by-side,
    In dappled sunlight or soaking rain.

  17. Over the rainbow,
    We hold hands and click our heels.
    There’s no place like home.

    This, of course, inspired by “Over the Rainbow,” Judy Garland’s signature song, by Arlen and Harburg. Thankfully, my husband is every bit as much the homebody as I.

    *Prompt #16: Playing Favorites

  18. NOW WHAT?

    Acclimatize, familiarize,
    Revise, amend, and bend.
    Rework, adjust
    (you simply must),
    Then modify and blend.

    Find your footing,
    (no off-putting)
    Settle in, and then
    Get a feel for this new deal, and
    Learn from where you’ve been.

    *Prompt #17: Ch-ch-ch-changes

  19. Prompt #18 is a photo prompt (photo by Keith R. Good): http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/08/28/there%E2%80%99s-a-moon-out-tonight-prompt-18/

    AFTERGLOW (A Nonet)

    As the sun
    slips beneath the water,
    Her afterglow lingers above –
    Much to wooing moon’s delight.
    And they bask in the glow
    Those fleeting moments
    They call their own,
    As their hearts
    Become
    One

  20. Remember Me This Way

    Raw emotion
    Vague impression
    Every notion
    Begs expression

    View and thought
    Duly penned
    Deftly wrought
    Without end

    ** Reader’s Digest, April 2011, “Remember Me This Way” by Beth Dreher.

    *Prompt #19: Title and Deed

  21. Prompt #20, Wishful Young Lovers, is a photo prompt (photo by Walt Wojtanik, of his daughter): http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/09/11/wishful-young-dreamers/

    Haiku

    We watch the sun set
    Our love stealing away time
    We watch the sun rise

  22. BUT, WEIGHT!

    Salty chips
    Onion dips

    Fish, deep-fried
    Open wide

    Creamy shakes
    Dreamy cakes

    Cookie batch
    Down the hatch

    Chocolate cherries
    Ben & Jerry’s

    Strudels (oodles!)
    Home-made noodles

    Fried tomatoes
    Mashed potatoes

    Mindless snacking
    Pounds are packing

    Tater tots
    Lattes (lots!)

    Home-made stew
    Swiss fondue

    Mac-n-cheese
    (Seconds, please)

    Up a size
    Big surprise

    *Prompt #21: 1, 2, 3 — Surprise!

  23. The photograph depicts a kindly gentleman. Though he is not smiling, his mischievous eyes are bordered by tell-tale smile lines. He is flanked by my grandmother and grandfather, and holds my then-infant father in his arms. I dig deeper into my great grandfather’s musty chest, discovering several more photos, each portraying the family man I never met.

    A picture of Grandma Netta and Grandpa Al’s wedding day surfaces. And then another, and another. Great-grandpa is noticeably missing. Selflessly playing photographer? I smile, and keep searching.

    I open what appears to be a photo album, yet it contains no photographs. Instead, the pages contain letters from Italy, written in Grandma Netta’s brother’s hand. There appears to be several month’s worth, at least. As I skim the pages, I see, “Netta and I were invited to perform at a private party last night. All eyes were on her. She looked great, Pop. Guys are flocking. Your plan might work. Give Ma hugs from both of us. We’re having the time of our lives, yet we can’t wait to get back home to the States. We miss you both.”

    Confused, and intrigued, I read on. “Since last I wrote, Netta has received two proposals of marriage. She seems agitated. She wrote Al another letter today. She’s written him every day since we arrived. Pop, I think your plan may be backfiring on you. It seems absence is making the heart grow fonder.”

    My pulse quickens. Further reading confirms my suspicion: Great-grandpa sent Grandma away to Italy for an extended time as a last-ditch effort to break up her pending marriage to Al. Her brother was sent as her escort, but also to spy and report.

    Though I never learned his reasons for trying to block Netta and Al’s marriage, I saw with my own eyes that he did not hold a grudge forever, and neither did they. Perhaps photographs cannot always tell stories, but they are history-sated. I’m thankful for the outcome portrayed in the photos in Great-grandpa’s chest.

    … and I’ve learned to be thankful for my very existence.

    *Prompt #22, Photo prompt: http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/09/25/developing-story-%E2%80%93-prompt-22/ (Developing Story)

  24. UNTITLED

    For the first time in my life, I know
    What loneliness feels like.
    Sounds like.
    Tastes like.
    Nervous energy follows wanderlust.
    Dismal music accompanies ominous headlines
    That play as a round in my psyche,
    And leave a peculiar tang on my lips.
    I discharge a recurrent mechanical laugh…
    Everything is a joke.

    *Prompt #23: Wither Thou Goest, Kevin Bacon?

  25. Prompt 1.

    Haiku

    My instructions were
    idiot-proof. But they rose
    to the occasion.

    Prompt 2

    “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” ~ Romans 3:23

    Some do not respect the bible, but most respect Jesus himself.
    Our historical Jesus hated sin, but loved sinners.
    ALL sinners.

    Who are sinners?
    All.

    Even if I did not believe the bible is God’s word,
    I could see the validity of that statement, for
    Who has attained perfection?
    Whose every thought is good, and clean, and holy?
    Whose every move is guided by faith?
    Whose every breath is exhaled in love?

    In all, all I see is me.

    *Prompt #24: Rise and Fall

  26. Prompt #25 (Reaping a Harvest) is a photo prompt (photo by Keith R. Good). http://poeticbloomings.com/2011/10/16/reaping-a-harvest-prompt-25/

    Haiku

    Sow benevolence.
    Weed petty self-interest.
    Reap the benefits.

  27. Life’s a little weird, in a wonderful sort of way.

    When I was a child, my grandparents had one of the few color television sets in town, and the only one in our family. Signs in business windows proudly advertised, “air conditioned.” Mom’s remodeled kitchen included a handy-dandy new gadget to make dish washing a cinch – a sink sprayer. My time was spent with cousins, coloring books, and paper dolls.

    My sophomore year of high school, we moved to Florida. For my Sweet 16th, I got an electric Smith Corona. State-of-the-art. Powder blue. Mom and Dad knew I would need it for secretarial courses. My time was spent with new friends, a new boyfriend, enjoying the beach, and missing home.

    A mere year later, I was married. At 19, I became the mother of a beautiful baby girl, and went on to have two more children in the next five years. My time was spent with children, Care Bears, My Little Ponies, and He-Man action figures.

    Eight years later, I was a single mom taking secretarial courses, where a 15-year-old Smith Corona was passé. Only months into classes, I met my second (and final) husband, and was offered a job at the then Medical College of Ohio (now University of Toledo). My time was spent with a loving husband, kids who were confused and challenging – but affectionate and respectful, scientists, computers, and government agencies.

    Now-grown children have battled demons I could never have predicted, and would not have believed we could all make it through in one piece. And we would not have done so, but for the grace of the God with which I have been intimate since my early childhood. My time was spent with doctors, government agencies, at psych units, and before the throne of God.

    At fifty-plus years of age, my life is full. My husband, who has supported my children and me through the toughest of times, remains the love of my life. My time is spent with aging parents, cousins, scientists, government agencies, online with poets and writers of children’s stories, writing my own poetry and children’s stories, blogging, communicating with writers from all over the world, Facebooking, caring for and thoroughly enjoying a new love (my granddaughter, Sophie), and before the throne of God.

    Life’s a little wonderful, in a weird sort of way.

    *Prompt #26: Life’s a Little Weird

  28. My husband and I spent this last week in a log cabin in the woods of Ohio’s Hocking Hills. No landline. No cell phone reception. No internet. No television. We hiked, biked, hot-tubbed, talked, photographed the autumn beauty, and simply enjoyed being together. Oh, the bliss!

    What did you do this week? Was it inspiring? Lackluster? Challenging? Think on it, and let’s hear about “The Week That Was.”

    Marie Elena’s Week

    Fall, In Love (A Nonet)

    We shared our favorite time of year
    Where each turn of the bend ignites
    Flamboyant reds and yellows
    A welcoming heart(h) glows
    Silence is golden
    Passion smolders
    You and I
    Kindle
    Love.

    (If you would like to see the photo I chose to accompany this poem, it is posted Across the Lake: http://aleerily.wordpress.com/2011/10/30/fall-in-love-a-nonet/ )

    *Prompt #27: The Week that Was

  29. Frazzled Momma

    She had her litter in the guest closet. I gently and lovingly moved her and her six darlings to a cozy spot in the basement. Then cleaned the guest closet. Thoroughly.

    Thud
    Thud
    Thud

    What was this soft and elusive sound? It seemed as soon as I would get up to check it out, it stopped. Then it would start up again. I began thinking I was hearing things.

    Heading to the basement to check on the kittens, I discovered what was happening. Momma was in the process of dragging each kitten, one at a time, back upstairs to the closet she had chosen to begin with. Hanging from the scruff of their necks, these poor little ones were banging against each step, all the way up. Momma actually did look frazzled, and a bit miffed with me. I brought the last two kittens up to the closet for her. After all, new moms have enough to deal with.

    *Prompt #28: TAXED! (No, not in THAT way!)

  30. “Freedom from Want”

    Mr. Rockwell
    Captured the ultimate
    Family Thanksgiving.
    Our family.

    With you.

    One year ago today
    My cell rang.
    I held my breath,
    Fearing yours had ceased.

    It had.

    No longer free from want,
    We achingly yearn
    For your smile,
    Your laugh,

    Your presence.

    Thanksgiving Day
    Your beautiful daughters
    Will light your funeral candle.
    Our centerpiece,

    Your light.

    (For my cousin, sorely missed.)

    *Prompt #30: Of Heart and Hearth

  31. Haiku

    Grace and gratitude
    Are facilitated by
    My grave shortcomings.

    *Prompt #31: Gratitude in Abundance

  32. Love and Legend (a shadorma)

    Whatever
    changes may occur
    (whoever
    is absent)
    preserve family customs –
    keep loved ones alive.

    *Prompt #32: Traditions

  33. Dash Away

    Untangling light strings, I pray
    that they will light sometime today.
    And as my dear mother would say,
    “But I just put Christmas away.”

    I pull silver from the buffet
    to polish and put on display,
    then dig out the Santa and sleigh.
    But I just put Christmas away!

    The light strings are twinkling! Hooray!
    I sneak from a rich cookie tray;
    then tidy the cookie array.
    (I’m just putting Christmas away. )

    Twelve shopping days left, by the way,
    and I have done naught but delay.
    If you ask me why, I’ll just say,
    “Cause I just put Christmas away.”

    Still I cling to the jolly and gay …
    for much to my heart’s dismay,
    ‘In the blink of an eye,’ as they say,
    will be time to put Christmas away.

    *Prompt #33: Be Prepared

  34. Saving the Best for Last

    In the quiet of Christmas Eve,
    An empty manger beneath the tree
    Receives the Baby King
    As clock hands point heavenward.

    *Prompt #34: Christmas A Week Away

  35. For Santa Wojtanik

    Enjoy the milk and cookies –

    I baked them all myself.

    Be good to little Sophie,

    Love,

    Marie Elena Elf

    *Prompt #35: Do Not Open ’til Christmas

  36. Crash and Burn

    The deadline came,
    The deadline went.
    I did not dig,
    Nor make a dent.

    And though I had
    Sincere intent,
    My chapbook bombed,
    To my lament.

    The End.

    *Prompt #36: Every Ending is a Beginning

  37. Gilded Muse

    Glimmer of notion
    Fluid reflection
    Lucid flow

    Prompt #37: Photo prompt

  38. Prompt 38 is my favorite prompt so far: Take an eye-catching line from one of the poems posted ahead of you at PB, and use it as the title of a totally new poem. Be sure to credit the poet and poem it is from. Have fun!

    I’M A POET, AND AS SUCH AM TOUGH (From S.E. Ingraham’s “Undergoing a Sea Change”)

    Pointless notions
    seep, leak, drip, drain
    flee my brain, launch campaign
    to wreck my reputation.

    Raw-emotions
    Scored, pared, sliced, peeled
    Spread open, core revealed
    Displayed for summation.

    In the line of fire,
    Gutsy versifier.

  39. FLESH (a short lesson in color harmony)

    You
    (yes, you — whoever you are, wherever you are)
    complete my picture.

    *Prompt #39: Colour My World

  40. Quote from Marie Elena: “Sometimes yes means maybe no, and no means sometime, maybe.”

    ADVICE TO MOMS (and dads, grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, cousins, teachers, neighbors, sitters … you get the idea.)

    As moms, sometimes we might give in
    And let the little darlin’ win.
    Does yes mean yes and no mean no?
    Or maybe we don’t really know,
    Depending on the mood we’re in,
    We might not think. Well, think again.
    Examples set and morals sown
    Will speak to them until they’re grown.
    Our word should be rock solid, sound,
    And we should always stand our ground.
    So simply let your yea be yea,
    And nay must never NOT be nay.
    End of story. No dispute.
    (Unless, of course, their stinkin’ cute!)

    *Prompt #40: Quoting ME!

  41. Old, Faulty Parts

    My fibula is so untrue.
    I lack the science gene.
    I cannot take a ribbing,
    And my brain is not too keen.
    I’m told I have a pisiform.
    I find that in poor taste.
    I’d find it humerus, except
    My funny bone’s misplaced.

    *Prompt #41: Old Relatives

  42. I SAID TO ME
    (positive self-talk for middle-grade children)

    Today I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed,
    ‘cause everything is mixed up in the brain inside my head.
    I couldn’t seem to get things straight. There’s nothing I could do.
    But then I told my dad, and he said, “Son, that’s just not true.”
    My Father said, “Can’t never could, ‘cause can’t will never try.
    But can works hard to get it right. Can helps us to get by.
    Don’t ever tell yourself you can’t; that you don’t have the skill.
    Just say ‘I can,’ and try your best, then certainly you will.”

    So I said to me,
    “I’ll make it be.
    I’ll try with all my might.
    I’ll do my part,
    I’m plenty smart,
    And things will be alright.”

    Now when I start to say “I can’t,” I hear my father’s voice.
    It tells me “Hey – you know you can. Just simply make that choice.”

    *Prompt #42: Moral of the Story (child’s poem)

  43. ONE MORE CHANCE

    Step with me across the moon,
    where childhood awaits
    with puzzle books, and sharpened crayons
    and four-wheeled roller skates.

    Take my hand, and skip with me
    To Thumbelina land.
    Let’s grab a rope for Double Dutch;
    Build castles in the sand.

    Climb with me beyond the clouds
    Discover who is there –
    It’s Chatty Cathy, Penny Bright
    And your first Teddy Bear.

    Come where time did not pass by,
    And ceaselessly it’s Spring
    Where getting there’s the easy part:
    Just grab an empty swing.

    *Prompt 43: A photo prompt, “Where Have All The Flowers Gone?”
    http://poeticbloomings.com/2012/02/19/where-have-all-the-flowers-gone-prompt-43/

  44. Snippets of a Brooklyn Mission
    (A daughter in crisis)

    Calls in the night span nearly 600 miles
    Of separation. In desperation,
    We talk and pray for hours,
    As schizophrenia’s power
    Plots to devour her very core.

    Grasped firmly in the jaws of crisis,
    Dad and I turn the ignition,
    On a mission only love can drive.

    Finally face-to-face, we
    See her palpable relief,
    But this thief is unyielding,
    On a mission of its own.

    Her minute apartment becomes home
    For a spell, as we try to slay this hell
    That has claimed residence in her being.

    But not all is lurid, as warm memories attest:
    Love expressed as “Grandpop” meets her on the Pulaski Bridge
    Each day after class, as her fragile-as-glass mind
    Finds comfort in his care.

    Laptop in hand, we’d snub our concerns, and
    Sit on her stairs to catch our Buckeyes.
    Or have a slice at Triangelo’s,
    Reminiscent of Grandma’s own.

    We soaked in the Brooklyn tone –
    Polish bakery scents,
    Market and Laundromat treks –
    Nothing complex,
    As we walked where we needed,
    And nothing impeded our task
    As we basked in the 50’s feel of it all.

    Seeing through our eyes
    Blew home’s breath into her setting,
    Letting her fears reduce from life-threatening,
    If for only precious moments.

    That Fall, we followed our hearts to Brooklyn
    On a mission only love can drive.

    Prompt #44: Where the Rubber Meets the Road

  45. TOO EASILY SPOOKED!
    (A limerick)

    There once was a gal named Marie
    Whose “easy to frighten” degree
    Was amplified more,
    Knowing what was in store
    From this Bloomin’ fear prompt poetry!

    Prompt #45: FEAR

  46. NOTE TO PAST SELF…

    “Unrealistic,” you told yourself.
    “I’m content, after all, with a chapbook or two,
    And a blog with you.”

    Contentment is SO “you.”
    For once in your life, don’t aim for contentment.
    Aim for this moment you’re in:

    Little legs before me, “Indian style” on floor mats
    Smiley-eyed, sunny faces –
    Some mouthing the words as I read out loud
    The picture book bearing my name.

    Don’t shoot for “participant”…
    Shoot for “pinch me.”

    Prompt #46: BACK TO THE FUTURE

  47. INVISIBLE TOUCH

    When I can take no more
    I lift my face to see
    The One whom I adore.
    He makes His presence known,
    And He is then no more
    Invisible to me

    Than she inside my mirror.
    He leans in close and then,
    He whispers in my ear,
    That I am not alone …
    The words I need to hear,
    Then whispers them again.

    He moves through time and space
    To take my fears away.
    I welcome His embrace.
    He tells me I’m His own,
    And seals me with His grace,
    A debt I can’t repay.

    IN-FORM POET: GENESIS (Original form by Walter Wojtanik)

  48. Marie Elena on said:

    MY GOD, MY GOD

    His beauty
    shines like the very sun,
    my eyes cannot fully take it in.

    Withholding
    His brilliance from no one,
    His warmth springs forth to thaw the cold heart.

    “Ebb and flow”
    this phrasing un-embraced
    by my God, whose love does not ebb, but

    unrestrained,
    His mercy has no bounds,
    as the sea lacking Earth’s gravity.

    © Marie Elena – 2012

    IN-FORM POET: Parallelogram de Crystalline

  49. HOSPICE

    As you care for his needs,
    Understand that this is
    A feeble, powerless shadow
    Of his former self.
    Take a look at the photos;
    Each a glimpse of a charming gentleman –
    Vibrant and spontaneous,
    Handsome, comical, and full of life,
    Loved by the beautiful woman you see
    In the photo he keeps near his heart –
    The love he will dance with again
    In a matter of days.

    © Marie Elena Good – 3/25/12

    PROMPT #48: IN THE SHADOWS (Photo Prompt)

  50. Marie Elena on said:

    A WOMAN’S PREROGATIVE

    Once in the super hero store,
    I chose a cape and tights (size 4).
    The clerk was rude
    She did allude
    To my being obese.

    She asked how I will use
    These powers that I choose
    Said I, on cue,
    “To squeeze in to
    These tights. And for world peace.”

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #49: AND SOMETIMES I WEAR A CAPE

  51. Marie Elena on said:

    Returning Breath
    She returned to Your gravesite, expecting death.
    Her name on Your lips revealed Your identity,
    Took her breath away.

    I return to You, her story fresh in my mind.
    My name on Your lips takes my own mortal breath away,
    Replacing it with Yours, eternal.

    Inspired by one of my favorite passages of scripture: John 20:15-16. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

    Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher).

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #50: MAKING A COMEBACK

  52. Marie Elena on said:

    A Spring Internment

    We buried you today,
    lowering you into
    the short space
    between wives.

    I sensed murmurings
    among the living
    and the dead –
    the air dripping with lilac
    and admonition.

    “She wasn’t even gone a full year,
    when he began seeing
    h e r.”
    Whispers breathe down my neck,
    or perhaps it is the night air,

    but I realize life is too short
    to concern yourself
    with who lies in the grave
    next to you.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #51: IT MAKES SENSE

  53. Marie Elena on said:

    IN ABSENCE OF THE HEALER

    And comfort remains
    the shortest route
    the only means
    to her emotional health,
    as medications
    are minimally effective,
    and add their own
    intolerable symptoms.
    The comforter/encourager –
    though not the healer,
    remains the role
    of immeasurable impact.

    Last line from Poetic Asides April 2 prompt: Write a Visitor Poem – MY DECEASED GRANDPA (a dodoitsu)

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #52: FROM EVERY ENDING COMES A BEGINNING

  54. Marie Elena on said:

    REACH (a sonnet)

    My feet are planted firmly here at home,
    Yet seeds are scattered farther than my span.
    Words blossom in encouragement-rich loam,
    And flourish far beyond this gardener’s plan.

    What joy, as peace and beauty grace the way,
    What nourishment that seeps into my soul.
    My senses overflowing every day
    On shade-tinged path, or sunny poppy’d knoll.

    One kernel sown, yet harvest so diverse –
    A multiplicity of voice takes flight
    And broadcasts as poetic seeds disperse
    To transplant hope, wherever they alight.

    In gratitude, two kindred gardeners toil
    To cultivate Poetic Bloomings soil.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #53: RETURNING TO THE SOIL

  55. Marie Elena on said:

    MOONSTRUCK
    (To the tune of That’s Amore)

    If you hit-a my eye
    With a big-a pizza pie,
    That’s a law suit.

    Though the moon makes me swoon
    Poke-a my eye out, you lune,
    That’s a law suit.

    ‘scusa me, but you see,
    If you mess with Marie
    That’s a law suit!

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #54: PLAYING FAVORITES AGAIN

  56. Northwest Ohio

    My Buckeye roots extended northeast
    to the “Center of Steel Production,”
    now known as the “Rust Belt.”
    Following a short southern plunge into the Gulf
    of Mexico, they rummaged northward again,
    and have deeply rooted themselves
    into Northwest Ohio’s flat terrain.

    Not a hill to be found,
    it clambers to give the eye something
    on which to feast.

    Myself, I relish the curve of the Maumee,
    Eerie temperament of a storied great lake,
    the stately Buckeye,
    flowering Dogwood and Poplar,
    scarlet Sumac, Redbud, and Sycamore.

    A Spring palette of fair pastels
    and equally fair temperatures
    transforms to Summer’s
    Petri-dish, and
    brightly flamboyant panorama,
    followed by a plunge in temperature, and
    Autumn’s rich jeweled hues.

    Soon, bare branches are laden
    with dazzling white snow, that
    glitters on moonlit evenings,
    flaunting the crimson Cardinal.

    Yet, the best is this:
    Each time we pull into the drive
    of our humble brick one-story,
    I hear my voice say,
    “I just love my home.”

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #55: COMING HOME

  57. VICE

    Once
    Twice
    Rolled the dice
    Twice
    Thrice
    Paid the price
    Sound advice:
    That’ll suffice.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #56: ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

  58. Elements of Design
    a sonnet

    Her longings go beyond where he has led.
    His nightmares see her leaving him behind.
    She takes his hand, in hopes that he will tread
    Uncertain pathways – pages yet unlined.

    His ruler and his compass firmly gripped,
    He pointedly denotes their journey’s source.
    Just staring blankly, feeling ill-equipped –
    No dots to link; no way to chart their course.

    She tenderly removes the tools in hand,
    Endows him with a palette of rich hues,
    Presents him with a canvassed-life unplanned;
    Excitedly, they watch the tints diffuse.

    Her watercolor fantasies achieved;
    His fear of spontaneity relieved.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #57: THE WALK OF LIFE

  59. EVAPORATION (a Fibonacci)

    Her
    heart’s
    silent
    insistent
    pulsing prayers ascend –
    cares vanishing into thin air.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #58: IN THE AIR TONIGHT

  60. I THIRST
    John 4:14 “… but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst.”

    For this I’ve learned – we’re not immune
    To dampened dreams beneath the moon
    Where love lies fallow, barren, spent;
    Where thirsting hearts are spurned and rent.

    My Jesus, quench my burning need
    And to your living water, lead
    Where charred remains of love are nursed;
    Where hearts will thrive and never thirst.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #59: WATER

  61. DISPIRITED

    Darkness descended within and without.
    No glint of joy; no moon to spill soft light.
    Darkness blurred the margins between night
    and heart –
    no need to give voice to the shadows within.

    Seeing her need, he rose from his rocker,
    to silently build a fire in the hearth.

    Her eyes fixed on the flames, as if her only solace.
    He tended the fire long into the night,
    until the last log was nearly consumed.

    Seeing her need, he rose from his rocker,
    split it, and kept the flames alive.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #60: BURNING PASSION

  62. THE WORLD AT LARGE

    Our galaxy is inconceivably vast;
    Home to our planet
    Within a space of roughly
    Ten billion light years.

    Ten

    billion

    light years.

    Yet, here we gather –
    Knowing and being known,
    Hearing and understanding,
    Meeting together,
    Sharing words, hearts, selves,
    In an instant in time,
    At will.

    On closer inspection,
    The world at large
    Really isn’t.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #61: WHAT ON EARTH?

  63. Luke 8:25b. “Who then is this, that even winds and water obey him?”

    What Storms May Come

    Winds and waves threaten and rage.
    Chaos ensues.
    Fear engulfs.

    Jesus sleeps.

    The boat is small.
    The collective faith, smaller still.

    Jesus speaks.

    Winds and waves grow tranquil.
    Calm ensues.
    Relief gives way to query.

    Jesus ministers.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    PROMPT #62: GET SOME REST

  64. Marie Elena on said:

    DEMENTIA

    Words and meanings smear like watercolor on slanted mirror.
    Her ‘reasoner,’ broken.
    Her fear, unspoken.
    Her sense of self, lost on a shelf of saved-for-sometime dreams.
    Seems little ‘clicks.’ There must be a fix – a pill that would fill her seeping soul, and bring her back,
    whole.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #63: UNCERTAINTY

  65. Marie Elena on said:

    COMMAS DON’T SCARE ME

    No hooked little mark
    Will catch me off guard.
    No comma faux pas
    Will, leave my poem marred.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012

    From Nancy Posey’s Uncertainty poem Within and Beyond my Grasp

    PROMPT #64. HEY, THAT’S MY LINE TWO!

  66. Marie Elena on said:

    A Father’s Love

    In a battle for his own life,
    Leukemia disassembles his cells,
    One by one.
    So,
    When did counting breaths take precedence
    Over counting cells?
    When his son’s diseased lungs
    Began sucking life
    Instead of oxygen.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2010
    PROMPT #65: BETRAYED

    (My apologies for posting an older poem – written in November of 2010. It is about my Uncle Jim and his son “Punk,” who passed from this life to the next within ten weeks of each other. I simply could not have admired them more.)

  67. Marie Elena on said:

    MEMOIR PROJECT, PART 1

    WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, MARIE ELENA GOOD?

    Merciful. She finds it easy to be merciful, as she experiences daily the mercy of her God.

    Approachable. Welcoming eyes and ready smile … not peculiar enough to frighten, nor so lovely as to intimidate.

    Redeemed. Sinner-deemed-sinless, a debt she can’t pay.

    Indebted. Humbly and deeply thankful for parents who taught much, and loved regardless; an abundance of encouraging, uplifting, loyal friends and extended family; and mostly her Creator, whose unyielding love, grace, and mercy breathe her very existence.

    Enthusiastic. Taught by her father that “Nothing great was ever accomplished without enthusiasm.”

    Enthralled. Captivated by life, love, and words.

    Lazy. Often rising with the sun to walk the beach in Naples three decades ago, she now lazily hits the snooze three or four or six times rather than rise to take a short morning walk.

    Encourager. “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11

    Nonna. Her favorite vocation, hands down.

    Athletic. …and sometimes, she blatantly lies.

    Gullible. Too quick to say, “Really? Wow!” then later slap forehead with the all-too-familiar, “Oh. Duh.”

    Observant. Truly, about as observant as she is athletic. (Read, “Blatantly lies.”)

    Oldfashioned. Dreams of returning to days when morals were more than just folklore.

    Dandelion lover. … but only in poetry and fields. Not in her yard.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #66: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

  68. Marie Elena on said:

    MEMOIR PROJECT, PART 2

    PRIDE (confession in sonnet)

    The very word sends shivers to my spine
    For pride, it’s said, arrives before the fall.
    To write about my pride, I would decline:
    A cowardly response, and not my call.

    Since false humility is pride implied,
    A path to cover tracks that lead to fact,
    I recognize the need to swallow pride,
    And keep some semblance of the truth intact.

    With that, I look upon this very site –
    Admit I’m proud of what we two have done.
    So here’s my ego, splayed in black and white –
    Along with hopes we’ve only just begun.

    This said, my heart and pen make this demand:
    “Don’t leave this page ungrateful for God’s hand.”

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #67: LOOK WHAT I DID!

  69. Marie Elena on said:

    BELMONT AVENUE

    She was a two-story, humble abode;
    Up in years, but still
    She wore white well.

    I don’t recall the kitchen much
    Before Dad’s home-made solid oak cabinets, and Mom’s
    Fruit-dappled wallpaper with appealing colors
    That showcased the oak.
    I also can’t quite recall the walled staircase
    Before Dad opened it up, and added an elegant
    Curve.
    Then there’s my bedroom, of which I have
    No recollection, pre-
    Flamboyantly pink flowered wallpaper
    Of my five-year-old big-girl choosing, that
    My parents tolerated, and my Grandpa
    Patiently hung.

    I’m quite certain her front porch
    Had limited personality until
    Our porch swing was hung
    And summer nights meant staying up late,
    Pajama-clad, swinging and singing
    And chatting and waving
    To neighbors that happened by.

    While some things were lovingly changed,
    Others were equally as lovingly allowed to just be.
    There was the dining room wallpaper mural –
    An elegant home
    With winding creek and weeping willows,
    Where I used to sit for hours,
    Placing myself in such a charming and picturesque scene.

    What I truly treasured about our home, though,
    Was her setting –
    Comfortably settled among the homes of
    Loving aunts, uncles, and eleven cousins.

    © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #68: WELCOME HOME

  70. Marie Elena on said:

    Might You Be A Poet?

    She once was told to write about someone influential in her life –
    someone with no family ties.
    So she set aside for a moment the fact that they are surely
    twin cousins, separated at birth,
    growing up in an eerily similar life and time.

    She focused instead on the shared yellow brick road
    to poetic solidarity.
    It took no effort on her part, as her pen gushed
    camaraderie
    harmony
    laughter –

    then abruptly stopped.

    She coaxed it gently, conceding the feeling
    something was missing.
    It began again – this time slowly, softly,
    in watercolor.
    She watched as it whispered

    t e a r s

    p r a y e r s

    g r a t i t u d e.

    Ah, yes.

    She capped her pen,
    and smiled warmly eastward.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #69: WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS

  71. Marie Elena on said:

    “Don’t drink, don’t smoke – what do you do?” ~ from Adam Ant’s “Goody Two Shoes”

    SHOES

    At a rather formal function,
    A male voice hollered, “SHOES!”
    Though dapper guests were mystified,
    Myself was not confused.
    I whirled around to catch his eye,
    And saw him standing there
    With playful eyes, a roguish grin,
    And meager reddish hair.
    We hadn’t seen each other
    In probably five years
    He really hadn’t changed his ways,
    This teaser, it appears.
    He called me “Shoes” or nothing,
    ‘Twas fitting, in his view.
    But not as in a fetish –
    Just short for “Goody Two.”

    And he was not the only one
    Who labeled me this way
    Another boss and friend of mine,
    While I was once away,
    Took over my computer
    My “theme song” to implant.
    When I returned to work to boot her,
    Out roared Adam Ant!

    © Marie Elena Good – original 2009; rewritten 2012
    PROMPT #70: A.K.A.

    P.S. This was even before I had married Keith Good!

  72. Marie Elena on said:

    MOM’S CHICKEN PAPRIKASH (Yes, it gets its own sonnet. It’s that good.)

    How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
    I love thee for the chicken she sautés
    With onion, to a golden-crusted glaze,
    That fills her home with welcoming bouquets.

    Paprika-peppered drippings add some spice
    To sour cream-rich sauce that MAKES this fare –
    As if it needs more flavor to entice.
    The dumplings are to-die-for. Must I share?

    She adds a crusty bread or dinner roll,
    To sop up every drop of luscious sauce.
    I must admit, I have no self control –
    My portion-size-controller’s at a loss.

    The balance of the flavors is ideal.
    It’s everyone’s requested birthday meal.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #71: FOOD FOR THOUGHT

  73. Marie Elena on said:

    MARIE ELENA’S JOURNEY:

    1974 – 1989

    New state,
    New town,
    New high school.
    My sophomore year, I spot you.
    I say to my new friend,
    “Someday, I will marry him.”

    I recall my mother telling my sister,
    “Use your eyes, Peg.”
    And so I “use” my eyes.
    Is that what caught your attention?
    I can’t say for sure, but it seemed to me
    You used your eyes as well.

    We walk Naples beach.
    We hold hands,
    Play football in the sand,
    Sit close on the band bus for “away” games.
    We talk, and laugh, and hug
    And can’t say goodbye.

    My senior year, we marry.
    We enjoy each others’ company.
    We enjoy our three children.
    Just shy of thirteen years,
    We say that goodbye.

    One of us needed no one else.
    One, apparently not.

    © Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #72: AT FIRST SIGHT

  74. Marie Elena on said:

    VISIONS OF HEALTH (a sonnet for Grandpa Dunn)

    A “smoking man” before you were a man,
    Reluctantly you quit in later years.
    To sidestep cancer’s outbreak was your plan,
    Which fell far short of halting cancer’s gears.

    They said your health was very, very poor
    And I knew there was nothing I could do.
    No meals or hugs, nor simple visits, for
    Twelve hundred miles distanced me from you.

    The greater part of me must thank my God
    For distancing me once you were beset
    With toxic cells that ambushed, seized, and clawed –
    No horrid recollections to forget.

    I never saw you lying in repose,
    Nor even in the midst of cancer’s throes.

    © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #73: DEATH BE NOT PROUD

  75. Marie Elena on said:

    MY POOR HUSBAND (a double fibonacci)

    Call
    me
    obsessed
    with football,
    but it only counts
    for THE Ohio State Buckeyes
    (both college and pro).
    My widowed
    husband
    stands
    by.

    Copyright © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #74: MY LOVE AFFAIR WITH

  76. Marie Elena on said:

    MAKING EXPLOSIVES

    I’m exactly half Italian, and half Irish.
    One would assume this fusion
    would increase the predilection toward explosive behavior.

    I blew that theory all to pieces.

    Copyright © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #75: MOTHERLAND

  77. Marie Elena on said:

    AS I RECALL (haibun)

    Dad was a teacher. Mom was a homemaker, in the truest sense. Their bank account held no vacation funds, I’m certain. They allowed me to accompany my heart-rich, generous aunt and uncle and their kids on vacations of their own. My little home-body heart was comfortable on the road with my extended family, who felt more like siblings than cousins to my sister and me. I got to experience the ocean in Nahant, Longwood Gardens, Hershey, and Gettysburg, PA., and cherry blossom season in Washington D.C. I have memories of Aunt Peg trying to convince a Whitehouse guard that I was Jackie Kennedy’s niece. Though truth-be-told, I’m not entirely certain that is my own memory, or if it simply became real to me as family reminisced and laughed through the years. But even reminiscing about memories that are not truly ours makes for grand remembrance, doesn’t it? Funny how what I love to look back on is not where we went, or what we saw … it is simply time spent with those I love … those who returned to life right across the street from us when our vacations were done.

    to reminisce
    to journey in my mind
    where love leads

    Copyright © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #76: ROAD TRIP

  78. Marie Elena on said:

    TAKE IRONING

    Why is it that everything Mom did
    Looked like so much fun?
    Washing dishes, stripping wallpaper,
    Scrubbing floors, hosing down the house –
    She made it all look delightful.

    Take ironing.
    I clearly recall the sound
    Of Mom’s clothes sprinkler,
    As she shook it like a salt shaker,
    Sprinkling water on the clothes
    Before pressing them.
    What fun!

    Oh, the excitement the day she entrusted me
    With ironing Dad’s handkerchiefs.

    Oh, the letdown when the novelty wore off,
    And “fun” transitioned to “chore.”

    Take ironing.
    Please.

    Copyright © Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #77: IT’S A CHORE

  79. Marie Elena on said:

    MOM

    When I was a baby, my mother was my world.
    No one else could feed me,
    change me,
    hold me,
    rock me –
    No one else would do.
    As a young girl, my world expanded.
    Yet, I missed her terribly if we were apart
    For even short periods.
    As a high school girl, I appreciated
    And respected
    My stay-at-home mother.
    Her grandchildren love her above all.
    Her nieces and nephews value her presence.
    My father tells me that as a mother,
    I remind him of Mom.
    I’ve tucked that notion deep in my heart
    For safekeeping,
    Retrieving it for reassurance
    Whenever I doubt myself.
    I want her to know – to tell her how much she is loved –
    But my brain lacks the words
    My heart possesses.

    Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #78: MAMA MIA!

  80. Marie Elena on said:

    Anywhere with Cousins

    Whoever’s house,
    Whichever park,
    Whoever’s porch,
    Whichever street,
    Whoever’s room,
    Whoever’s yard
    Whatever rink
    Whichever pool
    Whatever field
    Whatever pond
    Whatever creek
    Whichever place
    Where we could be
    All together – family.

    (To Patti, Punk, Susie, Carrie, Connie, Shan, Dick, Bobbie, Mary, Jimmy, Barbara, Ray, Jim, Judi, Tom, Lisa, and Chris – with more love and gratefulness than my heart can contain.)

    Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #79: HANGING OUT

  81. Marie Elena on said:

    September 22, 1963

    five-year-old eyes watch
    as little boy salutes
    daddy’s coffin

    Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #80: BIG EVENT

  82. Marie Elena on said:

    When He’s Gone

    His grandchildren refuse to think of life
    Without their Grandpop.
    He has been there for them

    James Fagnano
    In every way imaginable
    In all the ways
    That make a difference in one’s life.

    I refuse to think of life without him as well.
    He has been there for me
    In all the ways that make a man
    Both a father and a dad.

    He has cheated life
    three times.
    Perhaps hundreds more.

    “God must have more for me to do.”

    Yes, Dad. How right you are –
    More love to give
    More guidance to offer
    More music to make
    More prayers to pray.

    And when he’s gone, he’ll live on.

    Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #81: JUST WAIT ‘TIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME

  83. Marie Elena on said:

    RESTORED (for my Keith [Naani form])

    the moment your eyes verbalized
    authentic love
    and my heart learned to be fluent
    in trust

    Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #82: MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF MY LIFE

  84. Marie Elena on said:

    (*Sijo)

    Perhaps an only child would once have preferred to remain so.
    Perhaps she grapples still in deep or shallow recesses,
    Never quite comfortable journeying in sister shoes.

    Yet as she treks time’s encounters, does she open her eyes to see
    Herself reflected in those of her sister’s affection,
    And perchance recognize how deeply loved and valued she is.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #83: SIBLING REVELRY

  85. Marie Elena on said:

    One Mother’s Lament (Haibun)

    Being an admirer of those who glance back yet don’t bemoan, I aspire to do the same. However, this is difficult (read “impossible”) as a mother. I’m thankful for the relationship I have with my now-grown children. There is much love and respect, and mutual enjoyment – and always has been. Yet I think of their junior high and high school years with pangs of remorse for what could have been. Activities, rehearsals, competitions, plays, football games, concerts, time with their friends – much to hamper family dinners at the kitchen table.

    Fast food drive-through runs
    Offer little nourishment
    For heart and spirit

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #84: COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA

  86. Marie Elena on said:

    GIVERS AND TAKERS

    Be watchful of the takers in your life –

    Not every soul a giving heart retains.

    The takers sap our joy and trigger strife.

    My adage, this: it’s she who gives, who gains.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #85: FAMOUS LAST WORDS

  87. Marie Elena on said:

    SILENT NIGHT

    As cattle low and donkeys bray,

    A worried man begins to pray.

    “She’s weary, Lord, and birth pains loom,

    We need an Inn, but none have room.”

    A stable with a bed of hay

    Affords them with a place to stay.

    She lies amongst the bleating sheep –

    Where there she finds no peace for sleep.

    The hour of our Savior’s birth

    Sweet angel voices sing His worth,

    While Satan howls – himself, enraged

    In knowing that a war’s been waged

    A war the Babe Himself will win –

    To free us from our senseless sin.

    Beneath the sacred star-lit night,

    How silent was that holy night?

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good 2012
    PROMPT #86: CELEBRATION IN SONG

  88. Marie Elena on said:

    what sweeter dream

    at end of day

    than Babe of peace

    in manger’s hay

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good 2012
    PROMPT #87: VISIONS OF SUGARPLUMS

  89. Marie Elena on said:

    The View From Here

    Quality writing takes time and heart.

    Submitting takes time, heart, research, and resolve.

    Heart, I have …

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2012
    PROMPT #88: I HEREBY RESOLVE

  90. Marie Elena on said:

    UNTITLED

    Taste and see the Lord’s goodness –

    His grace will not pass away.

    From the foundation of the world,

    His devotion to mankind was unveiled.

    Since He spoke light into the darkness,

    It has exposed no ordinary cosmos.

    Evidence of His magnificent handiwork

    Defies creation’s denial.

    Taste and see His goodness.

    His grace will not pass away.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #89: FRIENDS WITH WORDS

  91. Marie Elena on said:

    TRAWL

    Ice melts away
    Gray sheds to gray
    Man feeling tinned
    Casts worth to wind

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #90: PHOTO PROMPT

  92. Marie Elena on said:

    Nightlight (A poem for wee ones)

    I light your path from bed and back
    So you won’t be afraid,
    Or fall from tripping on the drum
    On which today you’d played.

    I light your room so you can see
    The photos on your shelf
    Of mom and dad and gram and gramps,
    And of your smiling self.

    I light your bed so you can see
    Your favorite teddy bear
    Your pillow, blanket, she ts, and soft
    PJ’s you chose to wear

    I light your night so you can see
    The shadows on your wall
    Are outlines of the things you love –
    Not menacing at all.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #91: IT IS ALIVE!

  93. Marie Elena on said:

    sparrow

    take time to observe
    and rediscover this:
    common
    does not equal
    nothing special.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #92: GONE TO THE BIRDS

  94. Marie Elena on said:

    IF THE WHOLE WORLD WAS SILLY
    Inspired by Shel Silverstein’s “If the World Was Crazy”

    If the whole world was silly, you know what I’d eat?
    Worm Fettuccini, right off of the street.
    Some caramelized whiskers of catfish today;
    Tomorrow, perhaps a nice leather fillet.
    A handful of gravel from Mr. Green’s drive,
    With honey bee’s knees from an elephant’s hive.
    Gallons of hazelnut-chocolate-bean chili.
    That’s what I’d eat if the whole world was silly.

    If the whole world was silly, you know what I’d wear?
    An upside-down tuba, and one for a spare.
    A glove on my foot, and two socks on one hand,
    Yesterday’s junk mail; fresh peach skin (or canned).
    My big sister’s homework, my Uncle Jim’s lures,
    And maybe that G.I. Joe lunch pail of yours.
    Oversized dentures from Great, Great Aunt Milly.
    That’s what I’d wear if the whole world was silly.

    If the whole world was silly, you know what I’d do?
    I’d unzip the sky to let hippos skip through.
    I’d hop into books, and I’d flip through my bed.
    I’d butter my face, and smooth lip balm on bread.
    I’d plant fish from seed, and teach star fruit to swim.
    Then I’d color each glare with a nice shade of dim.
    Everyone’s name would end with “The Frilly,”
    If I was the queen, and the whole world was silly.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2009
    PROMPT #93: THE CHILDREN’S HOUR

  95. Marie Elena on said:

    Uh-oh, Scorpio!

    Scorpio’s my sign,
    And I don’t mean to whine,
    But I found just one trait
    To which I can relate.
    Observant? This is laughable.
    Detached? No, I’m quite affable.
    Front-runner? Thanks, but that’s not me.
    Ambitious? Little energy.
    Power, strength, strong will, and passion?
    Most of these in minor ration.
    Secretive? Mysterious?
    Oh please – you can’t be serious.
    But then they mentioned “loyalty,”
    The only trait depicting me.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #94: SO HEY … WHAT’S YOUR PROMPT?

  96. Marie Elena on said:

    UNREHEARSED THIRST

    A sip of water was fodder for ranting. Slanting toward screwy, this hooey distracts from the facts, be they left or right. Polite society allows a variety of thought, and we ought to connect and respect. To be precise – fight nice.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #95: READ IT IN A MAGAZINE

    Marco Rubio’s Water-Bottle Moment, posted by Ian Crouch: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2013/02/marco-rubio-water-bottle-moment.html

  97. Marie Elena on said:

    A LITTLE GIRL’S DREAM

    She dreamed of grace through ballet –
    Tulle layered to below her calf
    Satan ribbon crisscrossing at her ankle
    Waltzing on toe.
    Ballet was offered only paired with tap,
    For which she had no desire.
    No desire until she acquired a taste
    For black patent leather shoes.
    Became enthralled with
    Brush step, patter tap
    Clicking rhythm
    On hard surface beneath her feet.
    Decades later, as she sees herself
    In elderly women who
    Shuffle
    Lumber
    Trudge,
    She once again dreams of grace.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY PROMPT – IMAGISM

  98. Marie Elena on said:

    VOICES

    Unable to distinguish a thought
    A voice
    A word
    A frame
    A syllable
    Alone in a sea of conversation

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #96 – WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS

    “Alone in a sea of conversation” from Erin Kay Hope’s TRUE BRAVERY (Imagism form)

  99. Marie Elena on said:

    Rosie’s Book of Monster Love (a Rubáiyát for little ones)

    On a page where monsters lurked,
    Underpaid and overworked,
    Unacknowledged, unasked-for,
    Feeling useless, sad, and irked

    There amongst the story’s snooty
    Characters of empty beauty
    Overvalued, charmless types
    Moral character off-duty

    Lived delightful little Rosie –
    Chatty, she, and very nosey.
    She transformed the monsters’ page,
    Made it colorful and cozy,

    Summoned monsters, large and small,
    Left out not-a-one at all,
    Made them tea and cakes to savor
    Oh, those monsters had a ball!

    Rosie held each monster tight,
    Loved “so much,” and took delight
    Being cuddle-loved by ogres
    On the page devised for fright!

    Rosie spread her arms out wide,
    “All friends here!” she beamed with pride.
    As each page turned eagerly,
    Rosie’s love spread story-wide.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013

    (In honor of my just-turned-two granddaughter Sophie [aka “Rose” and “Rosie”]. When she loves a toy, she squeezes tight and says “SO much! SOOOOO much!” She also often spreads her arms wide as described in my poem, as if to pull all of us in the room into her arms, and exclaims, “All friends, here!” while she just beams with delight. We have no idea where she gets this stuff. 😉 The love of our lives, for sure!)

    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – Rubáiyát

  100. Marie Elena on said:

    UNTITLED

    Hot tea
    roaring fire
    soft robe, warm from dryer
    smooth jazz
    hot bath
    hand-in-hand, strolling path
    good read
    white wine
    heavy snow on soft pine
    porch swing
    easy chair
    deep pillow
    earnest prayer

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good -2013
    PROMPT #97 – TRUE SILENCE

  101. Marie Elena on said:

    Relatively Speaking (a haibun)

    Before the sun rises, he starts his day with strong coffee and a shot glass. He is soft-spoken and trustworthy; never lewd nor aggressive. Incompetence is not in his nature. From dark to dark, he drinks hard, yet works hard – finding solutions where others stumble; aiding those in need, giving no heed to whether they be angel or devil, “deserving” or not. He battles his own demons, and judges not his fellow man.

    I’ve never known him
    Not inebriated,
    Yet never known him drunk

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #98 – MEAN WHAT YOU SAY, SORT OF…

  102. Marie Elena on said:

    Haiku

    Who decided grass
    Should grace everybody’s lawn?
    Moss keeps itself cut.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #99 – GOD’S GREEN EARTH

  103. Marie Elena on said:

    MY LORD AND SAVIOR, JESUS CHRIST (A Kyrielle Sonnet)

    Creator, Father, Lord of all,
    Your Son submitted to Your call,
    Abandoning His throne above,
    How can I best express my love?

    His sacred hands nailed to a tree,
    He bore my punishment for me –
    An act I am unworthy of,
    How can I best express my love?

    He conquered death, that I might live –
    A gift that only He could give.
    God’s Son again enthroned above,
    How can I best express my love?

    Creator, Father, Lord of all,
    How can I best express my love?

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – KYRIELLE SONNET FORM

  104. Marie Elena on said:

    VOICES IN THE GARDEN

    Come sit beside me in the shade of living canopy.
    Close your eyes. Soak in the rhythm, romance, and whimsy.
    Wrap yourself in the serene embrace of graceful, fluid form.
    Let the breeze of the lush and lyrical lift, and
    Carry you above the stress of sweeping strife and discord,
    For none can be heard in this garden of validation.
    You will find no boundaries, no borders, and no barricades.
    Come scatter your seeds, then watch them grow and thrive,
    Mingling with the bold, the melodious, the witty, the sober.
    Your voice is not only welcome, it is passionately celebrated.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #100 – CELEBRATION OF THE CENTURY

  105. Marie Elena on said:

    DAVID

    He considers profoundly
    The beauty before him,
    Knowing she belongs to another.
    He uses his authority to order her
    Husband
    to the front lines.
    He feels no remorse
    For death in war is honorable.
    Yes?
    Besides,
    What does it profit a man

    If the perks of royalty elude him?
    He is convinced his king-heart is selfless;
    That his royal power is used
    For the wellbeing of his people,
    And not as a means
    To gain the world

    And all therein.
    He seeks only what is best for this
    worthy creature.
    Surely he could give her what Uriah could not.
    Surely for this precious gem,
    Uriah would be willing to give
    his life
    And forfeit his soul.

    Independent Message:
    What does it profit a man
    To gain the world,
    And forfeit his soul?
    (Mark 8:36)

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013

    Bummer. The comment sections won’t hold the formatting. I have to admit that this was one of the hardest forms I’ve ever attempted.
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – LINE MESSAGING

  106. Marie Elena on said:

    Risen, Indeed!

    Pondering the blood-drenched tree
    There but for His mercy, me
    Tear-stained face, I bow the knee
    Hallelujah! He is risen!

    Low, for me His blood was drained
    Love entombed, yet not contained
    Absolution, as ordained
    Hallelujah! He is risen!

    © Copyright Marie Elena – 2013
    PROMPT #101 – WHICH CAME FIRST – THE RABBIT OR THE EGG?

  107. Marie Elena on said:

    GIVE ME EYES TO SEE

    To look into another’s eyes
    And truly see the soul that cries –
    The fear and angst on which it feeds
    The love that lost, the heart that bleeds
    The expectation that misleads
    The loveliness beneath the needs
    The strength behind the smallest deeds
    The blooms among the choking weeds.
    This trampled soul with courage tries
    Beyond what meets the eye implies.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – DUO-RHYME

  108. Marie Elena on said:

    Inhabiting Moments

    There was a day when life moved at the speed of carriage; when intimacy waited for marriage. Evening meals were planned, prepared and, following prayer, shared.

    Dim the light.
    Rewrite the greed.
    Linger.
    Proceed
    Gently though the years, before time disappears.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #102 – EKPHRASTIC POETRY (PHOTO PROMPT – PHOTO BY MARJORY M. THOMPSON)

  109. Marie Elena on said:

    Tap spring patter step
    Raindrops on a tin roof stage
    Gratis performance

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #103 – APRIL SHOWERS

  110. Marie Elena on said:

    here, but for the grace of God …
    I’m told I should pray for this one.
    And yet, I don’t know if I can.
    For how does one pray for a man

    Who’s done what this evil one’s done?
    His victims? Will they pray for him,
    Through losses of life, and of limb?

    My God, did You send Your own Son
    To die for this wicked man’s soul?
    To kill, maim and mar was his goal.

    I’m drawn not to pray, but to shun.
    Forgive me, I’m lacking in grace –
    My prayers are dishonest and base.

    My God, yes, You gave up Your Son
    Who willingly donned human skin,
    Then died for my own dreadful sin.

    Please give me Your heart for this one,
    And all who, like him, are misled.
    Without You we’re (all of us) dead.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – CONSTANZA

  111. Marie Elena on said:

    “The pourer is considered the guardian of the teapot, which implies sterling social graces and profound trust.” ~ Mike Lininger (Editor, Etiquette Scholar)

    TEA PARTIES WITH TOM

    Growing up together
    Play clothes and bare feet
    Giggles galore
    Teensy Dixie bathroom cups
    Grandma’s garden hose
    Sipping “tea”
    Distended tummies
    Little ones
    Bathroom runs

    Decades flee
    Family gatherings
    Memories revisited
    (Teasing notwithstanding)
    We’ll never live it down
    Giggles galore
    You pour

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #104 – TIME FLIES

  112. Marie Elena on said:

    even the eagle
    is unable to soar
    until it is free

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #105 – EKPHRASTIC POETRY

  113. Marie Elena on said:

    “Selfless” Tableau

    Three sets of blue eyes
    Three smiling babies
    Fed, bathed, and PJ’d
    Three cuddled angels

    Two arrived today
    Temporarily
    Taken in by you
    And the spacious heart
    You wear on your sleeve.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – TABLEAU

  114. Marie Elena on said:

    COME WITH ME (3,3,2 pattern)

    Though I fought,
    In the end, I was caught.
    Ensnared by your captivating line,

    Infatuated, and wanting you to be mine.
    Yet, this I know: Although this land for you is fine,
    I prefer my breath beneath the sea.

    A mermaid must be free.
    Come with me.

    Copyright © Marie Elena Good, 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – TROIS -PAR-HUIT

  115. Marie Elena on said:

    I Don’t Get It.

    My dad used to say (as he’d smirk with delight)
    “Don’t tell her a joke on a Saturday night –
    Or you’ll be the cause of her serious gaffe when
    Sunday in church, she is bustin’ up laughin’!”

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #106 – NOW THAT’S FUNNY!

  116. Marie Elena on said:

    The Joy of Writing

    They say there’s something to be said
    For having shelves of books you’ve read.
    I’d rather they were books I wrote.
    What ere it takes I will devote, and forge ahead.

    What ere it takes? I can’t immerse
    Myself into this universe
    Of dull research I must weed through.
    So to my heart I will be true — I’ll write light verse.

    Copyright © – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – FLORETTE

  117. Marie Elena on said:

    Ode to Meanie Earl

    Meanie Earl made me “oar”
    More and more and more and more!
    Meanie Earl, I do agree
    I am, I am a leaner me!

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #107 – WHAT’S IN A NAME?

  118. Marie Elena on said:

    A Measly Poem

    Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    If I had the measles,
    I’d give them to you.
    Then we’d both be sick
    Doing, what do you think?
    Just scratching our heads
    Writing po-ems that stink.

    You think THIS is shamelessly
    Bad and oblique?
    Well check out the po-em
    I posted last week!

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #108 – WRITE A BAD POEM

  119. Marie Elena on said:

    “A cord of three strands is not easily broken.” ~ Ecclesiastes 4:12

    ONE (Choka)

    A cord of three strands
    Is not easily broken
    As two become one
    In the eyes of God
    Woven, entwined, interlaced
    Sustained by His might

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – EPITHALAMIUM

  120. Marie Elena on said:

    SPAMMER

    Sincere
    Indebtedness
    And appreciation
    For how pertinent my viewpoint
    Is to you in this moment.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – APPRECIATE

  121. Marie Elena on said:

    Almost Home

    The sun peeks in the train’s window
    Where I found sleep
    sound and deep
    awakening me to its rising
    over bean green or wheat brown
    acres
    red barns
    white or brick farm houses
    picket fences
    my heart senses
    I’m almost home.

    © Copyright – Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #110 – MONUMENTS AND LANDMARKS (Written on the train on my way home from Brooklyn)

  122. Marie Elena on said:

    WAGING WAR

    Her strength is weakly veiled
    To those who know her well
    And see the utter hell
    With which she is assailed
    In every breath inhaled;
    Concealed in every cell.

    Decisions made with grit,
    That wells from depths unknown
    To shake her to the bone,
    And yet she doesn’t quit.
    To this, I must admit:
    I place her on a throne.

    Her angels battle on;
    Triumphant swords are drawn.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – HEXSONNETTA

  123. Marie Elena on said:

    Patricia’s Summer (a haibun)

    Though it was November and quite chilly for the locals, its touch and texture was summer to Patricia as she walked the early morning beaches of Naples. She strolled leisurely, taking mental note of individual grains of sand as they caressed her toes. She considered the beached sea kale, noticing minute nuances of emerald tones. She bent to pick up a particularly lovely shade, when she spotted a baby seahorse — no longer alive, but perfectly formed. Patricia coddled her in her palm, contemplating whether or not to return her to the gulf of her birth. Instead, she wrapped her in sea kale, and placed her in her pocket with coquina and golden olive. She smiled as she recalled lessons learned on Belmont as a child – lessons of the Calusa “Shell Indians.” Her childhood friend, Summer, loved to learn and speak of early Indian tribes. She was the one who had introduced Patricia to this little-known tribe. Now here she was on their beaches, far from her northern roots — farther still in distant time and culture. Stroking the smooth shells in her pocket, she pondered these resourceful shell seekers, and mourned their extinction.

    Returning home, Patricia re-opened a letter from Summer, to which she had not taken time to respond. She reached for the ornate treasure box Summer had made for her years ago. In it, she placed her letter, the shells, kale, and seahorse, a dozen grains of beach sand, and her obituary. She placed the box on a sun-dappled shelf, and marked it “Forever Summer.”

    Branch beyond your roots
    Be mindful in the present
    Gather memories

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #111 – PUZZLE PIECES

  124. Marie Elena on said:

    “Our truest life is when we are in dreams, awake.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

    If success…

    is measured by pleasure
    that graces wee faces;
    the glee you see as they adorn the knee
    of the one who will read and quench their need
    for story in rhyme, and take the time
    to let small fingers linger and point
    and think it a treat to repeat and repeat
    the giggley, squiggely words for the wiggley
    who can’t get enough of her picture book stuff,
    then yes, she’s been blessed with the grandest success.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #112 – MUST-READ POET

  125. Marie Elena on said:

    LISTEN

    It’s me again, and things look bleak.
    I just can’t cope. I’m deeply stressed.

    My child, can you hear me speak?

    I’m sad, alone, and so depressed.
    Can You not hear my grave request?

    My precious one, I’m always near.
    I’ve got your back – release your fear.

    Can You not hear me when I pray?
    My prayers are urgent and sincere!

    You’re mine. I cherish what you say.

    “Be still, and know that I am God.” ~ Psalm 46:10

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET – DIALOGUE DIZAIN

  126. Marie Elena on said:

    SOLO

    He lingered a good long while in the doorway where she stood, looking confused and forlorn those last moments they had spent together. A blur of self-doubt, she begged an explanation. He had none. He didn’t mean to hurt her. Simply, he had gotten a taste of regret. A taste – an insignificant sip – was all it took to leave remnants of love tossed to the wind to scatter like thistledown? And now, a new and permanent supply of regret seized and overwhelmed him.

    He stepped clear, closed the door, and locked it behind him.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #113 – HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER

  127. Marie Elena on said:

    UNCLE

    I think I’ll cry uncle this time.
    I’m not in the mood to make rhyme.
    My feet are disjointed,
    Iamb disappointed.
    My meter’s demanding a dime.

    My quatrain’s off track
    What would it entail
    To get it pulled back
    So it won’t derail?

    I’m a poor poet
    I can’t afford the syntax –
    All my verse is free

    I’m just in the mood
    To sit here and brood.

    An unassuming voice eerily orbits the tranquil moon: “Uncle.”

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – DESCENT

  128. Marie Elena on said:

    NOTE: July of 2013 we explored a poem-a-day “Beach” chapbook challenge.

  129. Marie Elena on said:

    UNTETHERED

    Fear of height
    Kept clouds at arms’ length
    But so too sun’s warmth;
    Moon’s romance.
    Grounded and star-struck,
    She grew wings
    Snipped cords
    Took flight.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    PROMPT #114 – IMPROVISE, ADAPT, AND OVERCOME!

  130. Marie Elena on said:

    ODE TO A MENTOR

    The yellow brick road loosely resembles
    Sweet corn,
    Acres of which thrive
    Wholly due to his vigilant presence.

    Remarkable sentinel
    Fearless defender
    Tireless escort

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – ODE

  131. Marie Elena on said:

    MARIE ELENA’S ATTEMPT

    in this house
    barren floors
    drafty doors
    empty drawers

    love expressed
    kindness stressed
    richly blessed

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    PROMPT #115 – IN THIS HOUSE

  132. Marie Elena on said:

    THERE, THERE

    He longs to retire in the tropics
    With white sugar sand and sea
    Even though she prefers white of snow
    And he knows she will never agree.

    She longs for falling crystalline flakes
    And snow-laden trees outdoors.
    She prefers white of snow, even though
    She treasures hand-held walks on the shores.

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – ZANILA RHYME

  133. Marie Elena on said:

    IF YOU WISH YOU WERE A STAR

    To the lovely classic “When You Wish Upon a Star” by Leigh Harline [melody] and Ned Washington [lyrics]: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQTzO2eRwwE

    (To be sung softly, dreamily, wistfully; with your hands clasped together near your heart, for effect… )

    If you wish you were a star
    First consider how bizarre;
    Paparazzi all around
    Would stalk,
    and hound.

    Would you be a Meryl Streep?
    Jacqueline Bisset of “The Deep?”
    Ravishing Miss Leigh of “Streetcar?”
    Rose – anne – Barr?

    (Bridge)
    Fate is kind
    She left me disinclined
    To live like actresses
    Before the mass – es.

    So, consider my advice
    Stardom is not paradise.
    When you look at me, foresee
    Ob – scur – i – ty!

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good, 2009
    PROMPT #116 – I’VE HEARD THAT SONG BEFORE

  134. Marie Elena on said:

    FIVE AND DIME

    Women’s house coats, puddle sail boats, Thermos® lunch totes, aprons (frilly),
    Ten-cent laces, pencil cases, flower vases, Wooly Willy.

    Good-n-Plenty, spend a penny, comics, many very funny!
    Party favors, sweet Life Savors (just five flavors), Bit-O-Honey.

    Penny candy sure was dandy, Just ask Randi! She would know it!
    Just old time’n, Five-n-Dime’n, fun’n rhymin’ In-Form Poet!

    © Copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – RHUPUNT

  135. Marie Elena on said:

    STRAIGHTFORWARDLY YOURS

    I gather you’d rather slather the matter with blather than merely verify and clearly clarify the grand plan at hand. I don’t understand. Must you be contiguously ambiguous? Profusely abstruse? Contentiously pretentious? For heaven’s sake, give us a break! Be frank and clear, like me right here!

    © copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #117 – BAFFLED

  136. Marie Elena on said:

    Carry On.

    “I read poetry to save time.” ~ Marilyn Monroe

    If time stood still, would I continue on?
    Would forward movement cease then to exist?
    Could sun and moon be viewed from dusk to dawn,
    And deadlines not be met, yet not be missed?

    We all kill time
    All the time
    All the time
    Marches on.

    I have so many questions in my heart,
    My mind cannot begin to comprehend.
    As minutes tick, I steal away to think:
    If time stood still, would I continue on?

    © copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET – DORSIMBRA

  137. Marie Elena on said:

    Little Sophie’s Newest Fascination

    She gets out her toolkit –
    Complete with pliers, wrench,
    Screwdrivers, hammers,
    Paintbrush, and bubble gum.

    Bubble gum?
    Staple gun actually, but hey,
    Whatever works. 😉

    © copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    PROMPT #118 – WORKING, WORKING

  138. Marie Elena on said:

    “Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.” ~ Aldous Huxley

    SARCASM (Mirror Oddquain)

    Say
    What you want.
    Believe what you must.
    Why should you be concerned with
    Truth?
    Truth
    Be (un)told,
    It’s not a factor.
    You will say what you want to
    Say.

    © copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – ODDQUAIN

  139. Marie Elena on said:

    Home Again (Belmont Avenue)

    “May I help you?”
    I don’t recognize the stranger addressing me
    From the porch
    Where I used to color with my cousins
    Swing in my pajamas
    Play with paper dolls.

    I respond with an apology
    For walking into the backyard
    Where I used to play tag with my cousins
    Catch summernight fireflies
    Lay in the grass, spotting castles
    In the clouds.

    I tell her this is my
    Used to be
    My home.

    “Would you like to come in?”
    My heart pounds. I decline,
    Then quickly change my mind.
    Yes. Yes, please.

    As I walk in, I’m overcome with emotion.
    Much is the same.
    Some is different.
    Everything seems smaller –
    Everything but the love.
    The love looms large,
    Reaching through the decades
    To embrace,
    Remind,
    Confirm.

    © copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    PROMPT #119 – LOOKING BACK

  140. Marie Elena on said:

    FREEDOM

    Concrete and steel may be reduced

    Eternally to scrap and ash
    By those whose souls would be seduced

    To fashion madness, unabashed.

    But hatred cannot silence love

    Nor quell a hero’s bravery,
    And would procure the freedom of

    The heart ensnared in slavery.

    © copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – GOETHE STANZA

  141. Marie Elena on said:

    “On October 27, 1967 I met with my mother. She’d been dead since September 30, 1959. At 8:00 P.M. local time, Con Thien, Vietnam, as artillery shells landed within inches of my position with the Third Marines, my world, my body and my mind explosively turned upside down and inside out.” ~ Daniel Paicopulos

    THIS IS WHAT VALOR LOOKS LIKE

    What do I know of my mother

    f
    a
    l
    l
    i
    n
    g

    D e a d

    at my teenage feet.
    What do I know of being
    blown

    a*p*a*r*t

    in body and spirit
    at the hands of an enemy
    I didn’t choose.

    What do I know of channeling
    raging pain
    into charity for my fellow man.

    What do I know of love,
    benevolent and boundless,
    born of anguish.

    What do I know of smiling
    eyes
    lips
    heart
    for every being in my path.

    What would I know of heroism,
    but for you?

    © copyright 2010, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #120 – MAKING A LIST

  142. Marie Elena on said:

    DING DONG DITCH (EXACTLY LIKE POEMING, ONLY DIFFERENT)

    Knock knock. Who’s there? Clogyrnach. Who?
    Knock knock Clogyrnach, where are you?
    Knock knock, weirdly stalked
    Keep your front door locked.
    “Clogyrnached!”
    Verb? Who knew?

    © copyright 2010, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – CLOGYRNACH

  143. Marie Elena on said:

    VOWED

    I whispered, “I am too young”
    So softly, it escaped hearing
    Understanding
    Meaning.

    So lightly, it drifted
    Wafted
    Vanished,

    Exchanged with
    “I do.”

    First line from “Brown Penny” by William Butler Yeats

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #121 – SEED LINES

  144. Marie Elena on said:

    SOPHIE, AND A BALLOON NAMED BUMPER

    I love to watch her heart unfold –
    Enthusiastic little soul
    Who loves her purple stringed balloon
    As though it loves her in return.

    Adoringly, she named her “friend.”
    Precocious little two-year-old
    And tethered buddy “Bumper” play
    Together, and she’s sure he’ll learn

    To speak and sing; laugh uncontrolled.
    She also knows without a doubt
    That she’ll reach out to grab a hold
    Of Bumper’s string some afternoon –

    Then sprinkle pixie dust of gold,
    And fly together to the moon.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – BREF DOUBLE

  145. Marie Elena on said:

    FAST DANCE, MY PANTS!

    You all know a gal named Marie
    Mid-fifties and white is she
    She makes no exception
    For ball or reception
    She just can’t cut loose and be free! 😀

    © copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    PROMPT #122 – INVITATION TO THE DANCE

  146. Marie Elena on said:

    JUST TEEZIN’

    My froes are tozen. I would have chosen to teeze my hair, but there are wiglets nesting there. You may not care, but the wiglet is rare, so I’ll deal with my tozen froes (and not expose my sniffifigant nose).

    © copyright Marie Elena Good, 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – AMPHIGOURI

  147. Marie Elena on said:

    of luster and longing

    morningstar of heaven
    beauty and power granted freely
    by He who gave you being

    born of light
    fallen of greed

    insatiable thirst
    for unmerited
    omnipotence

    can we shepherd the stars?
    no – nor harvest their brilliance
    to exploit the grandeur inherited
    from the God of their conception

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #123 – GLITTERING STARS

  148. Marie Elena on said:

    GRIMM VISION

    She reads the chart ahead of her
    That does not lead her to his heart –
    Her path remains an aimless blur.
    Yet she recalls the fairy tales
    Where prince proposed, and love prevailed.
    She’ll pick and choose from Brothers Grimm,
    And forge a path that leads to him.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – SARABAND

  149. Marie Elena on said:

    “But how do you thank someone who has taken you from crayons to perfume?” (Don Black’s To Sir with Love)

    TEACHER (For Dad with love)

    Students from yesteryear gather to honor him.
    I see the pride well and spill.
    Not arrogance or superiority, but a grounded wonder
    As he processes the ripples initiated
    By his long-passed presence in their lives.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #124 – EKPHRASTIC POETRY

  150. Marie Elena on said:

    MARIE ELENA’S TETRACTYS

    JUDGED

    Don’t
    Assume
    “Disabled”
    Is visible.
    Some disabilities hide beneath masks.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – TETRACTYS

  151. Marie Elena on said:

    Code 300.29 Coulrophobia

    Bozo caused me massive panic –
    Used to think he was satanic.
    Thought perhaps I was a chicken
    When I’d feel my heart rate quicken.
    Science knows this fear of mine:
    Code three hundred point two nine.
    Coulrophobia is real
    DSM-IV seals the deal.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #125 – LAUGH CLOWN, LAUGH

  152. Marie Elena on said:

    Sophie
    Cute cuddle bug
    Closed-eyed smile, hugging Grandpop
    Perfectly framed by the doorway
    Picture-perfect moment

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good

    Jesus
    Warm beating heart
    Showing us how to use it
    Tangibly, right here where we live
    I can’t help but love Him

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – PENSEE

  153. Marie Elena on said:

    “Jesus wept.” ~John 11:35

    The Word became flesh
    Revealing the heart of God
    We can relate to.

    (a senryu)

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good

    (Note from Marie: ”Jesus wept” is the shortest verse in the Bible. This tiny two-word sentence, for me, displays the warm human heart of Jesus Christ and magnificently voices the love and heart of my God. Wow.)

    PROMPT #126 – LITTLE THINGS

  154. Marie Elena on said:

    INDIGENT

    I find my heart is easily deceived,
    And vain attempts to emulate my Lord
    Just seem to leave my spirit in discord.
    I try in spite of what I have believed –
    No good apart from God can be achieved.
    So why do I attempt this my own way,
    While knowing I’ll most likely go astray?
    How could I be so foolish and naïve?
    Lord, sculpt my heart as putty in your hand;
    Affix my soul, and do not let it roam.
    Reveal Yourself, that I may understand
    How fully You’re my heart, my hearth, my home.
    Without You, I can keep not one command –
    I need you so much more than I can poem.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – BYRON’S SONNET

  155. Marie Elena on said:

    The Fax of the Matter

    A stay-at-home mom, now single,
    I needed to enter the workforce.
    It had been more than a decade
    Since I’d graduated from high school.
    No college for me.

    We were not of the privileged few
    With home computers.
    In fact, I had no computer experience
    Whatsoever,
    And was not tech-savvy
    In the least.
    So I entered a local college on a –
    Ready for this? –
    “Displaced housewife” grant.
    I chose a secretarial course.

    After just a few months in,
    I was offered a decent job
    At The University of Toledo.
    I quit college and snatched it up.
    That, after all, was why I was in school
    At age thirty.

    My first week on the job,
    I received a call from the U.T. librarian.

    “Miss, will you please tell Dr. Burnham
    He has a facts.”

    I thought for a moment.
    Did I hear her correctly?
    I responded.

    “Pardon me. Did you say Dr. Burnham has
    A facts?”

    “Yes ma’am. He can pick it up at the front desk.”

    Completely baffled, I repeated again…

    “I’m sorry. Are you saying Dr. Burnham has
    A facts? As in singular ‘a,’ and ‘facts’?”

    Now she seemed a bit impatient.

    “Yes. A facts. He has a facts. We’ll hold it for him.”

    Well, I wasn’t going to question her any further, so
    I wrote down the message for Dr. Burnham.
    But seriously, I don’t know how some folks land a job,
    Much less at a university.
    Sheesh!

    (Embarrassingly, a true story. 😉 )

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #127 – LOL

  156. Marie Elena on said:

    Online Dating Service

    You got a call from God-knows-who
    Who may be playing tricks on you.
    He said he’d meet you here at three.
    Three came and went without a he.
    There may be cause for pause. Beware.
    Beware! There are some creeps out there.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – MIRROR SESTET

  157. Marie Elena on said:

    Interesting to note
    A true hero’s response is
    “just doing my job.”

    (a senryu)

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #128 – HEROES PROVED

  158. Marie Elena on said:

    Pipe Down. I’m Trying to be Thoughtful.

    Hush now. Hush … I’m trying to write,
    Which takes a lot of thought, you know.
    I’ve got to keep my goal in sight.
    Hush now. Hush … I’m trying to write.
    I’m trying hard to be polite,
    But need to focus brain cells, so
    Hush now. Hush … I’m trying to write.
    This takes a lot of thought, you know.
    Don’t want a brawl; don’t want to fight.
    HUSH now. HUSH … I’m TRYING to WRITE!
    I’m NOT annoyed. I’m NOT uptight.
    My stack is NOT about to blow!
    But you MUST HUSH … I’m trying to write,
    And that takes THOUGHT, I’ll have you know!

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – TRIOLET SONNET

  159. Marie Elena on said:

    She’s a Great Grandfather

    Perplexed by the words he is choosing –
    His mixing of gender’s amusing.
    He says, “She’s a beauty,”
    While doing the duty
    Of winding our clock. It’s confusing!

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT 129 – PERSONIFICATION

  160. Marie Elena on said:

    MARIE ELENA’S lAmE FRESLIGHE

    Arresting Arrhythmia

    I’m against this principle
    Of leaving rhythm unfenced.
    Rhyme three, then two syllables?
    What have I come up against?
    Iamb, I love completely
    And in her defense I scram
    -ble to save her discreetly.
    Un-victorious, I am.
    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good

    MARIE ELENA’S ANTI-AE FRESLIGHE

    Dear Ms. Clarken:

    I do not like Ae freslighe, Ma’am.
    I do not like her sans iamb.
    She messes with my rhythmic ear.
    I wish that she would disappear.
    I do not like Ae freslighe, Ma’am.
    I’d rather eat green eggs and spam.

    😉

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – AE FRESLIGHE

  161. Marie Elena on said:

    One

    One heart was freed
    One soul was saved
    One life unchained
    One sentence waived
    One died for me
    One took my place
    One sacrifice
    One act of grace
    One Holy God
    One Trinity
    One Perfect Lamb
    One thankful me

    © copyright 2009, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #130 – THANKFULNESS

  162. Marie Elena on said:

    Oulipoo

    Sue’s flue’s Lou’s new loo.
    Pew.

    © copyright 2009, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – OULIPO (HOLORHYME)

  163. Marie Elena on said:

    HUH?

    This word’s vast dispersal
    (ahead or reversal)
    is quite universal –
    it needs no rehearsal.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #131 – SODA? POP? SOFTDRINK? WHAT?

  164. Marie Elena on said:

    A Tattle Tale

    “Twitchy” Mitch is tattle-rich.
    I’d take the twitch and ditch the snitch.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good

    On Nasher!

    Revealed: Ogden’s former career?
    ’Twas Nasher, the Rhymin’ Reindeer!

    But this abecedarian authoritarian’s verses
    Were aeronautically challenging. Curses.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – NASHER

  165. Marie Elena on said:

    “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.” ~ Ecclesiastes 1:9

    Light
    follows
    darkness
    follows
    light
    in time and perception

    and so it goes
    and so it will

    Until the god I am
    makes way
    for the God I Am.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT 132 – IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK

  166. Marie Elena on said:

    Politically Unbecoming

    We tend to see things differently,
    But I would never stoop so low
    As to treat you viciously.

    I’d never thought of you as “foe,”
    But that’s how you have treated me
    Since partisan rifts began to grow.

    I’d love to let ideas flow,
    But you would just get mean so, no.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – TERZA RIMA

  167. Marie Elena on said:

    Consider the Garden

    What rose
    Glances with scorn
    At the aster,
    Thinking
    “I don’t understand,
    Therefore I fear.”

    Let every gardener
    And every passerby
    Discover the beauty of color,
    Texture and fragrance
    As they mingle
    And adorn.

    © copyright 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #133 – THE GARDEN

  168. Marie Elena on said:

    Keeping Watch

    Joseph leads with somber grace
    A weary donkey slows the pace
    A restless Babe in Mary’s womb
    An empty trough will hold Him soon

    Anticipation grips the earth
    A star will mark the foretold birth
    There’s something in the air tonight
    Compelling truth will come to light

    The angels watch with trembling wing
    Awaiting birth of infant King

    © Marie Elena Good, 2013
    IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – SONNETINA TRE

  169. Marie Elena on said:

    Light and Life

    Abandoned glory for virgin’s womb.
    For his birth, there was no room.
    Embraced His fate, though death did loom,
    Crucified; then laid in tomb.
    Conquered sin and death outright,
    My Redeemer won the fight.
    Sacrificed for sin’s dark blight;
    Light and Life of Silent Night.

    © 2009, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #134 – SEASON OF LIGHT

  170. Marie Elena on said:

    “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” ~Luke 2:11

    What God is This?
    Following the angel’s appearance months ago,
    A young woman – mystified, yet willing –
    Subjected herself to ridicule
    While readying for the baby whose presence
    Began making itself evident.

    Then came the night
    On the heels of a long and arduous journey
    In humbleness of setting and witness.

    How prepared was the young woman’s weary body
    And emotion-laden heart
    For the miracle of birth, much less this Miracle of Birth –
    This holy night that culminates in pulling her newborn son
    To her breast,
    Offering life-giving milk
    To the very One who created life,
    And came to offer it eternal.

    What God is this who would choose this humble,
    Implausible means
    Out of love for a sinner?

    My God.

    My God…

    © 2013, Marie Elena Good
    A CHRISTMAS DAY POEM

  171. Marie Elena on said:

    HOLY BOOK (a sonnet)

    A book of books; a letter to mankind
    God-breathed to men of many walks of life –
    And yet this faultless work is undermined.
    Some say its very Author causes strife.

    Translated into fourteen hundred tongues,
    No other book approaches such renown
    As this, which is as breath to failing lungs.
    Throughout, God’s living hallowed voice resounds.

    Amazing in enduring relevance
    Astonishing consistency of thought
    Unparalleled in unbound eminence –
    Deny its holiness? No, I cannot.

    Though there are those who disregard His word,
    My God will not be silenced, nor unheard.

    © 2013, Marie Elena Good
    PROMPT #135 – NO FRIGATE LIKE A BOOK

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