POETIC BLOOMINGS

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

MICHELLE HED

Michelle Hed

Michelle Hed

Michelle Hed is a poet, photographer and artist living in Minnesota. Michelle finds her artistic inspiration with every glance out her window and every step out her door. She is happiest when she is outside with a camera in her hand. Her poems have appeared in the following books and online journals Poetic Bloomings, Sprout, The Fib Review, Pay Attention: A River of Stones, Prompted: An International Collection of Poems, A Handful of Stones, Haiga Online, and was a finalist in the Poetic Asides Poem- A- Day Challenge 2009.

 Her photography has been awarded in local contests and has been published in Minnesota Birding and Holiday Word Gifts. She also has a book, Natural Musings, which contains both her photography and poetry. She maintains a blog, www.thepenlensandbrush.blogspot.com, for all her artistic endeavors. She is married to her best friend, has two beautiful daughters and two mischievous hounds.

© All postings and intellectual materials on this page are property of Michelle Hed.

29 thoughts on “MICHELLE HED

  1. Prompt 13

    Originally posted on July 24th, 2011 at 3:07 PM

    Always Better

    Striving to improve every photograph taken,
    striving to improve every word written,
    striving to improve every stroke of the brush,
    striving to improve every social interaction,
    striving to improve my personal best
    and always satisfied that I gave it my all.

  2. Prompt 16

    Originally posted on August 14th, 2011 at 9:49 PM

    There’s A Fire Starting in My Heart

    I can’t control the burn,
    the desire to touch
    as I learn.
    Creating from my soul,
    putting the fire on paper
    as I dig through the dust bowl.
    As the images are born
    from my mind to the paper
    I fear your scorn.
    Encourage me,
    praise me,
    there’s a fire starting
    in my soul.

    Inspired by “Rolling In The Deep” by Adele

  3. Prompt 17 and a Bloom

    Originally posted on August 25th, 2011 at 9:34 PM

    Elusive

    They say wisdom comes with age –

    She dyed her hair to hide the gray,
    she bought new clothes for self-esteem,
    she played games with words
    whether cutting or witty,
    positive being brutally honest
    would be less hypocritical
    then telling white lies.

    Then she changed –

    She embraced her hair with grace and wit,
    she bought new clothes for fun,
    she played with words on paper
    and tried to only speak words
    of kindness and love
    and she found that sometimes
    not telling the complete truth
    was kinder to the recipient.

    And she discovered –

    She found more joy in her life,
    loving herself and giving of herself
    to others via time, word or deed
    than in any other time in her life.
    She took more joy from the small
    things in life, she slowed down
    the pace and smiled at the person
    she was becoming, knowing she
    was finally on the right path for her.

    She is still changing.

  4. Prompt 19

    Originally posted on September 9th, 2011 at 4:55 PM

    Residents of the Brain

    Down one wing of the old Victorian mansion
    you will find a writer,
    alternating between pensive stares out the window
    and vigorous scratching upon a piece of vellum;
    Next door there is an artist,
    who glows with satisfaction
    over a recently completed work of art;
    Across the hall is a seamstress,
    seldom seen but the sound of her sewing machine
    assures the other residents she is still there;
    At the end of this wing is the photographer,
    often darting off before dawn
    only to be found during the heat of the day
    within the dark confines of his room.

    In another wing
    lives the family that generously host
    these mismatched souls,
    their laughter is often heard echoing through the halls.

    Through the secret door behind a panel in the library
    lives the secret residents,
    the introvert dreaming of being on stage, acting and singing;
    the adventurer, seldom home for he is constantly traveling the world;
    the interior designer, furiously sketching and designing new ideas;
    the astronomer, watching the stars every evening;
    the archeologist, planning her next dig;
    and the athlete, working out every day.

    These are the residents of my brain-
    who I am,
    who I used to dream of becoming,
    who I wish I was,
    I am.

    Title taken from the July 30, 2011 issue of Science News.

  5. Prompt 20

    Originally posted on September 15th, 2011 at 12:04 AM

    The Morning After

    Romance lay heavy on the air
    as he arrived on her doorstep
    with a corsage in hand;
    She blushes,
    he chats
    and they pose for pictures
    before leaving;

    They joined their friends
    in the transformed room
    full of teenage hormones,
    and they danced
    till the shoes came off,
    the hair drooped
    and the lipstick was gone;

    Then seeking to forestall
    the inevitable ending
    of the senior prom,
    they drive off to the lake
    and share a few last
    dew drops of romance
    as the sun rises.

  6. Prompt 22

    Originally posted on September 30th, 2011 at 11:28 PM

    Connections

    I always wanted to meet my Great-Grandfather,
    we share a birthday you know,
    a special connection –

    I have his pocket watch,
    It doesn’t work anymore
    But when I hold it,
    I feel warmth,
    A memory,
    And time stops. . .

    And I see a boy running through
    the fields of his grandparents’ plantation
    and the bagpipes are playing in the background
    and every story I was ever told about my Great-Grandfather
    comes to life.

    I set the watch down
    and pick up the old key and
    turn it around and around in my fingers,
    imagining the door,
    in the house,
    that it might have belonged to
    but now it is just a key
    with no home.

  7. Prompt 25

    Originally posted on October 20th, 2011 at 1:19 PM

    Collection

    My eyes feast
    on the autumnal hues
    blanketing my world,
    on the migrating birds,
    on the final bloom,
    on the harvest moon,
    on the pumpkins on the vine,
    on the laughter of girls
    carving jack-o-lanterns,
    my eyes harvest each memory.

  8. Prompt 41

    Originally posted on February 9th, 2012 at 2:59 PM

    Borrowed, Blue, Old and New

    A borrowed dress,
    blue ribbons add finesse
    to the garments not seen

    and an old jeweled crown
    sits upon her brow,
    he smiles and sketches a bow

    and slips a new diamond bracelet
    upon her wrist,
    as they kissed

    then they turn to the cheering crowds
    as husband and wife,
    walking off to their new life.

    and

    Originally posted on February 9th, 2012 at 3:14 PM

    Old

    I like to bend your ear
    with the wisdom that I hear,
    learned and borrowed over time
    honed as I climb
    through my aging years.

    I have the time to share
    as I sit in this chair
    a thought or two
    with friends like you,
    I’m not going anywhere.

    So please come visit me
    it gets a bit lonely
    sitting here in this place
    staring off into space,
    I’m old but I’m here.

  9. Prompt #43

    Originally posted on February 24th, 2012 at 9:05 PM

    I always mean to write on Sundays and here it is Friday night…but this time I am here.

    Scattered Memories

    Faded petals pressed
    between the pages
    of a story

    yellowed photographs
    in a dusty old box
    high on the closet shelf

    a lock of hair
    in a jewelry box
    in the bureau drawer

    a few baby teeth
    in a small white envelope
    in the back of a desk drawer

    giggles and smiles
    in a compartment
    in the back of her mind

    faded and worn
    but each a treasure
    when the memories unfold

  10. Prompt 47

    Originally posted on March 19th, 2012 at 9:58 AM

    ten day hiatus
    a fresh coat on the outside
    her mind ignites

    and

    Originally posted on March 19th, 2012 at 10:03 AM

    Cultivation

    she shuttered her mind for ten days
    stepped out of her routine
    and for those ten days
    she planted seeds
    and now that she is back home
    back into her routine
    she is ready to open the shutters
    and cultivate the seeds
    to see what might bloom

  11. Prompt 48

    Originally posted on March 28th, 2012 at 2:38 PM

    “You Can’t Judge a Book By the Cover”

    At first glance,
    you see an old person.
    Another look,
    and you begin to take in details,
    the quality and condition of their clothes,
    their physical appearance,
    the way they walk.
    Eventually, in the matter of seconds,
    you form an opinion
    and keep on walking
    forgetting the old person
    in less time than it took to form an opinion.

    While the old person
    you just passed
    is thinking what a handsome/pretty thing you are
    and is reliving the summer of ‘45
    when there was dancing in the streets
    and of the dance he/she had
    with a handsome/pretty little thing –

    You glance back
    and see the lingering smile
    on the old person’s face.
    And you wonder what stories they could tell,
    who they were
    and who they are now?
    And that old saying pops into your head,
    “You can’t judge a book by the cover”

    You stop and make eye contact,
    give a smile and continue on your way.
    Never knowing the little ray of sunshine
    you gave to an aging person
    needing to be seen.

  12. Prompt 49

    Originally posted on April 2nd, 2012 at 12:19 PM

    Leaps and Bounds

    I feel invincible,
    tough as nails
    and ready to relieve
    Atlas of his burden –

    and while holding an invisible shield
    all sharp, edged words
    and demeaning smirks
    bounce right back,
    smacking the giver in the face –

    with a smirk of my own
    I continue conquering my day,
    relishing in my accomplishments
    until the day winds to a close
    and a weary cape crumbles at my feet
    leaving me vulnerable…
    until the next time.

  13. Prompt 50

    Originally posted on April 9th, 2012 at 6:56 PM

    One Breath Away

    With one breath
    they kissed as if the world was ending
    fighting to hang on
    waiting to see if the sparks still flew –

    They had drifted away
    lost in their own pursuits
    both unknowingly thinking
    this kiss will tell the truth –

    Trying too hard –
    Letting thoughts slip away
    the spark burst into flames
    the magic of love reclaimed them –

    They broke apart
    both grinning like love sick fools
    then dived back in for more
    with one breath.

  14. Prompt 51

    Originally posted on April 16th, 2012 at 9:07 AM

    Sight (Cinquain)

    no sight
    shriveling up,
    gone, nothing left to do
    I have lost sight of who I am
    no view

  15. Prompt 52

    Originally posted on April 25th, 2012 at 10:01 AM

    Fishing

    Releasing this catch
    was easy,
    no real thought involved.
    I felt a tad guilty for throwing out the lure
    but when I started to reel him in
    and things started to smell a bit fishy,
    I knew it was time to let him go.
    There’s a lot more fish in the sea.

    {Taken from my short anti-love poem posted at the Poetic Asides Website on Tuesday, April 24, 2012}

  16. Poetic Bloomings – The Second Year – May 1, 2012 – April 30, 2013

    May 2012 – Walk of Life Prompt
    Behind the Scenes

    I live my life in comfort
    creeping behind the scenes.
    I walk a quiet, joy filled life
    living behind my screens.

    I bird within a blind,
    I shoot behind a lens,
    I paint when I’m alone,
    I write whenever I can.

    But once or twice a year
    I step out of the zone,
    to face my one true fear
    I speak, when not alone.

    With microphone in hand
    I share a bit of me –
    of the things I do, write
    and the things I may see.

    And when that task is done,
    I slip behind the scenes.
    Looking to take my ease,
    wearing my old blue jeans.

    June 4, 2012 – In The Air Tonight

    Electrifying

    The heat evaporates in ten seconds flat
    as the cold front slams into the sun’s dying rays
    and they are swallowed by the roiling, dark gray beast
    of an early evening thunderstorm.

    The hairs on my arms stand at attention
    even while my body is rocked by the wind
    and the deepest bass drum beats grow louder,
    riding the dark, gray waves of the approaching apex.

    Then the drum beats reach a crescendo,
    over and over again, and the strings hiss
    and crack like a whip with white light
    and I, I revel at the concert before me.

    June 15, 2012– Water, water everywhere

    one tear drop
    can causes ripples
    miles away

    The Lure

    Aqua blue
    is the sea
    floating toward me –

    Hear the rushing lap
    of the inbound tide
    I’m longing for a ride –

    Hot, soft sand beneath my feet,
    humid, salt air in my nose
    and tumbling shells at my toes –

    One last exhale as I grab my board,
    dash into the sea, paddling hard
    adrenaline rushing, I am the wave.

    July 22, 2012 – Betrayed

    Betrayed

    Believed in the
    Easter Bunny,
    Tooth Fairy and the fat man in the
    Red suit with all her heart
    And when the truth was revealed her
    Young heart shattered, for-
    Ever wondering what other lies
    Dropped from her parents lips.

    Betrayed

    Believed in good outweighing bad with an
    Eternally optimistic outlook on humanity –
    Then a few misspoken words followed by
    Rare lack of ethics in others
    And a raw reality, no
    Yearning, no hope could
    Endure or overcome – and she was left
    Defeated.

    PB – How Do You View Your Life? PB Memoir Project
    7-29-2012 Prompt #66 Part 1:Who Do You Think You Are, Michelle Hed?

    White veins run through her chocolate
    Hair, making her appear
    Older than she is, sometimes a

    Dent to her ego,
    Other times a place to hide.

    Yearning to leave a whisper
    Of herself to last
    Until the sun’s light no longer shines.

    Trying to live her life with gentle dignity
    Humble humor, and always
    Interested in snatching serenity like
    Naps in warm sunshine,
    Keeping the anxieties of life at bay.

    Yet not always succeeding
    Often times finding herself in
    Uncomfortable situations,

    Arrested by the illusion assumed as a child that
    Reaching adulthood would make life
    Easier but in truth she is still searching,

    Making mistakes, learning, growing new
    Interest to replace the ones that withered,
    Challenging her mind and
    Heart to heap love
    Every day onto those around her, hopefully
    Leaving smiles and hugs in her wake –
    Lessons of patience, practice and embracing
    Every imperfection as unique for herself and her children.

    Hoping the muse of inspiration never forgets to
    Entertain her heart, knowing her
    Door is always open to new ideas.


    Who Do You Think You Are, Michelle Hed?

    Mischievous streaks appear when least expected
    Intelligent but introverted to the core
    Childlike with glee when happy beyond reason
    Humor – love it, sometimes lack it
    Elegant, snort, only in my dreams
    Loyal
    Likeable, gee I hope so
    Easy going

    Rational, I can rationalize anything (I’m secretly a Vulcan)
    Animal lover
    Earthy, prefer to be outdoors with a camera in my hand

    Kinky – ha ha ha, just grabbing your attention (Kind is the real word)
    Reasonable
    Artistic with a passion
    Unusually large heart and believes in giving people
    Second chances
    Educated but lacking wisdom (I’ll never be old enough)

    Hard working
    Enjoys life one day at a time
    Devoted wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece – family first

    8-5-2012 Prompt #67 Part 2:Look What I Did
    Speech

    I walk the line of an introvert –
    feeling safe in the shadows
    but occasionally peeking my head
    through the curtains
    when curiosities pull is too strong.

    Seeking the lime light,
    being the center of attention
    is NOT something I seek.
    Being a famous poet/photographer
    and yet obscure is possible, yes?

    Sigh. To achieve my goals
    I will need to shed my introvert skin
    and walk out of the shadows,
    giving a life lesson
    as I live one.
    Standing in front of the masses,
    speaking on what makes my heart sing
    and the journey I have thus far taken –
    sharing a dream and encouraging others
    to step outside of their comfort zone…

    being the center of attention
    and finding I can still breath,
    stand upright, and talk coherently
    and when it was over,
    the shadows welcomed me home.

    *Proud to say I stepped out of my comfort zone to give two different talks (three times) on being a writer and photographer and my journey to get to where I am today just this past spring. Part of the speech was letting everyone know how far out of my comfort zone I was and how important it sometimes is to step outside that zone when the benefit is higher (to you or someone else) than your discomfort.

    8-12-2012 Prompt #68 Part 3:Welcome Home
    Lehrback Road

    My parents built her
    the year before I was born –
    She was a house
    of many coats
    resting on the
    slope of a river bluff;
    Protected by
    Walnut trees,
    grand Cottonwoods
    and dainty Sumacs.

    Inside my closet
    was a secret chimney
    that didn’t go anywhere
    perfect for hiding
    my wheat pennies
    and half dollars.

    We had a long living room
    where you could look
    out the front and
    also the back –
    Our first inside dog
    was not allowed
    on the carpet
    so when my parents
    were gone
    I laid a trail
    of doll blankets for
    him to walk on
    so he could watch TV
    with me (my parents never knew).

    Running barefoot
    on the gravel cinders
    to visit Grandma in her garden
    or to pop in on my Aunt
    for a popsicle –
    More than a house
    I had a valley
    full of family.

    8-19-2012 Prompt #69 Part 4:With a Little Help From My Friends
    Junior High Choir Director

    There was a man –
    What man?
    The man (High School Choir Director) with the power –
    What power?
    The power to move me into high school choir –
    I failed.
    I was the only one to fail.
    It was a crushing blow.
    I wore shades in choir
    to hide my tears.

    But…

    my Junior High Choir Director
    formed an after school madrigal group –
    and so throughout High School
    we sang at Nursing Homes at the holidays
    and went caroling door to door –
    part of me always felt like a charity case
    but the other part of me
    was eternally grateful
    to be given the chance
    to do something I loved
    with a great group of friends.

    He tried to pick up the pieces
    of my broken self-esteem,
    and though my own self-doubt
    left some chips and cracks,
    he gave it back to me,
    more than half full.

    8-26-2012 Prompt #70 Part 5: AKA
    Squeak

    She would walk quietly into a room
    and sit upon a chair
    she was quite hoping
    they wouldn’t notice she was there.

    She didn’t have much to say
    being only four
    but she liked the people fine
    and liked to listen even more.

    One adult looked her in eye
    and said, “you don’t talk much, do you?”
    and she solemnly shook her head.
    “Your quiet when you walk too,
    quiet as a mouse.”

    And from that day on
    even though she could speak,
    she was ever known
    as quiet as a mouse, little Squeak.

    9-2-2012 Prompt #71 – Part 6: Food for thought
    Beef Stew with Dumplings

    Meat so tender it melts in your mouth,
    carrots from the garden
    makes you savor the sun which has moved south;
    Celery and cabbage add some zest,
    potatoes for filling you up to your chest;
    The rutabaga that doesn’t always smell great
    and onion that lingers after you ate;
    Finally, the piece that has us clamoring for more,
    the dumplings I stole from your bowl when you looked at the door.

    9-9-2012 Prompt #72 – Part 7: At First Sight
    Eddie

    He was so cute,
    brown hair, brown eyes
    and dimples when he smiled.
    We had fun hanging out together
    even though his name
    made me think of
    Eddie Munster.
    I liked that show,
    so I guess it was okay.
    He gave me a gift –
    a dinosaur.
    I still have it.
    We were five.

    Last Sight

    Computer lab blues
    hung around my neck
    as I tried to write
    a functioning computer program.

    Next to me
    wild, blond hair
    and laughing blue eyes
    watched me with chuckling interest.

    I asked
    or he offered –
    Either way he helped me
    iron out the details of my failing program.

    As he walked away from the lab
    I watched him through the window,
    thinking there goes Einstein in a blue jean jacket
    and the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.

    I married that man.

    9-16-2012 Prompt #73 – Part 8:Death Be Not Proud
    A Fear of Nines

    The year from hell began in April.
    Grandpa died at age seventy-nine,
    a heart-attack.
    My first funeral.
    I was fifteen.

    Dad was just recently diagnosed
    with cancer and was in the hospital
    after a collapse and was not able
    to come home for his father’s funeral.

    Dad eventually came home,
    he was given three to five years –
    of life.
    Dad told me the men in his family
    all died at age seventy-nine.

    Life went on for this teenager,
    but with some new routines –
    Dad had doctor appointments
    but they involved chemo,
    radiation and experimental treatments.

    Little did I know
    before the year was up
    Dad would be gone too.
    Cancer infiltrating his body
    until he looked like a little old man,
    passing away at the age of thirty-nine.

    I figured it was the nine’s that were bad luck.

    Every birthday I’ve had that ends with nine
    is a year of holding my breathe
    to see if I make it to the next year,
    but thirty-nine was the hardest.
    There was enormous relief
    at reaching forty,
    quite a celebration.
    I was so relieved, I decided my fear of nines
    was done.
    But I’m only forty-four.

    9-23-2012 Prompt #74 – Part 9: My Love Affair With…
    Behind the Lens

    One long lens
    lies hard and ready
    in my palm,
    my finger
    poised for action as my eye
    roams up and around

    the landscape;
    anticipation
    swirling through
    my body –
    prey spotted, rapid release
    satisfying sigh.

    9-30-2012 Prompt #75 – Part 10: The Mother Land
    Never Forget

    I have stood on the battlefields where blood was shed and seen the ghosts of the walking dead. I let their pain and history seep into my soul, haunted by the mysteries buried on a knoll. I need to go back and feel the earth, a place that is just a fraction of my birth but the connection runs so very deep, I can ‘never forget’ their restless sleep. So while the bagpipes play up on the knoll, I weep for each departed soul … wrapping the music around my frame an invisible kilt that goes by one name – Scotland.

    thistle tea cup
    drinking in the blood and tears
    one page at a time

    (Note: I am primarily German and Norwegian but from one Great-Grandfather comes my wee bit of Scottish and that thread has been more alluring to me than my more prominent heritage. I am from the Clan Graham and the clan motto is ‘Never Forget’. The ‘Thistle’ is a national emblem of Scotland.)

    10-7-2012 Prompt #76 – Part 11: Road Trip
    Ottertail Lake

    Every year,
    one week in July,
    we would cram in the car,
    we would say goodbye,

    When we were young
    we swam like fish
    and played in the sand
    only stopping for food in a dish;

    Pinball machines in the lodge
    slamming screen doors
    that you tried to dodge;

    Across the road at the local bait shop,
    comic books – Archie, Super Heroes and Ghouls
    and a double-layered sugar lollipop
    and no school rules!

    Speed boat on the lake,
    learning to ski
    and that first double-take…
    which led to him and me.

    Those stolen kisses
    and sneaking off at night
    getting yelled yet
    for giving your parents a fright!

    Summer vacations can’t be beat,
    I wish I could put them on repeat!
    I wish I could put them on repeat,
    Summer vacations can’t be beat!

    10-14-2012 Prompt #77 – Part 12: It’s a Chore
    Dust, Dishes and Deliverance

    Dusting –
    each item had a story
    or perhaps a brief pause in dusting occurred
    as a new story was created and performed before moving on.

    Dishes –
    water full of submarines
    and sea creatures from the depths
    and bubbles that were blown willy nilly,
    although drying was never as much fun
    the task did not put me into fits of despair – yet.

    Deliverance –
    dusting and dishes lost their charms
    with every foothold into puberty –
    avoidance, homework, or the ever popular “I forgot” syndrome
    kept me from doing the dirty deeds –
    College was a blessing, to both my mother and I.
    She was delivered from arguments regarding my faulty memory
    and I … I was just plain delivered.

    10-21-2012 Prompt#78 – Part 13: Mamma Mia
    You Shall Not Lie

    My Mother said, “Don’t ever lie to me.
    For when someone lies, they lose all my trust.”
    These words sunk in deep and they will not rust
    nor ever flake away, they’ll always be
    a part of me, this I can guarantee.
    Her words worked well, I didn’t want her mistrust
    but being young, a fib sometimes was just.
    A small fib but I was never guilt free.

    For I knew what I did and that taxing
    weight brought me down and turned my mood so sour
    but those words stuck and I find I’m the same
    a bit unforgiving, no relaxing
    intolerant of lies, do not cower
    just tell me no lies, then there is no shame.

    Best Friend

    We are a lot alike
    we have the same taste
    same salt and pepper hair
    same hips – a bit of a disgrace.

    We talk almost every day
    just to share the news,
    we love to create
    we just follow our muse.

    I think she’s the best
    she thinks I’m pretty great too
    of course she created me
    and that’s what mothers do.

    She is my Mom
    and I’ll love her forever
    I wouldn’t trade her in
    not for gold, nope never.

    10-28-2012 Prompt#79 – Part 14: Hanging Out
    The Hill

    Behind the house,
    pass bittersweet
    and sandy mounds,
    milkweed pods
    and trampled grounds.

    Up to the crest
    and a little beyond
    where the birch groves stand
    and sumac rest –
    I could be found.

    I’d bring a book
    or just sit and think
    caressed by the sun
    which made my eyelids blink –
    I would snuggle down.

    Late in the day
    the deer would come
    or the fox would play
    and I would watch –
    now I wish for that day.

    In the trees
    letters were carved
    tears were shed
    but time moved on
    the years have fled.

    The hill remains
    and in my memory glows
    the warmth and love
    of time shared with the land
    on the hill above.

    11-4-2012 Prompt#80 – Part 15: The Big
    towers fell
    fears ascended
    holding my babies close

    A Crack in the Illusion

    Safely ensconced in the Midwest
    where the grass is green
    the lakes are blue
    and crime can be ignored –

    Radical terrorist attacks
    happened in other countries
    never here in the amber waves of grain
    never here –

    All other terrorist acts on American soil
    had been committed by home grown lunatics
    never foreigners
    until that day –

    Watching the morning show
    confusion reigned until the second plane hit
    then the fears began to rise
    as the tears began to fall –

    As we learned the terrorist had breached our shores
    bringing the new war here
    America’s golden aura dimmed
    as we realized we are not invincible.

    November 11, 2012 – Prompt 81- Part 16: Just Wait Until Your Father Gets
    Ken (Part 1)

    He could have been the model for the barbie doll,
    handsome, light brown hair and green eyes
    but he was just Dad.

    He had an ear for music
    and would strum the strings,
    tickle the ivories and
    squeeze the bag ?
    (nope not pipes but accordion)
    and we would sing!

    We would sing
    when home alone just us two
    or with my sister
    or with my cousins, uncle, and grandfather –
    any gathering became magical
    when Dad sang and played.

    He was always telling jokes,
    (many not to be repeated)
    with a twinkle in his eye
    and a quirky grin,
    and a pipe between his lips.

    He was a lawman,
    Started on patrol
    And worked his way up
    To detective. Honesty,
    Integrity, loyalty were
    Ingrained at an early age.

    We played board games
    and Euchre, Frisbee
    and Dad liked to golf.
    Yes, growing up with Dad
    was magical – but it ended
    way to soon.

    He passed away at age thirty-nine,
    when I was sixteen.
    I miss him still.

    Bill (Part 2)

    Six years later my Mom remarried.
    He is a gentle soul with a large heart.
    He was divorced and his kids far away,
    and he needed us as much as we
    needed him.

    He’s a regular ole Grizzly Adams,
    constantly talking to the black bears,
    all named Blackie,
    that would come into the yard,
    feeding the deer and
    caring for injured birds.

    He’s held more birds than anyone I know.
    There was once a wild Grouse that adopted him
    and followed him around.
    He named him Chippers.
    The Crow with the injured wing, Blackjack.

    Besides animals, he’s magic with wood
    and I have many treasured pieces
    of furniture in my house.
    When I informed my daughter I couldn’t
    afford the magical fairy tree playhouse,
    she showed it to him and he made it
    for her for Christmas.

    He would plant a garden every year
    and every year my girls and I would go up
    and help him plant the garden,
    and then we got to help him harvest the garden!
    This was the first year my kids didn’t have
    pumpkins from Grandpa’s garden.

    We became his daughters,
    and he became the only Grandfather
    our children ever knew.
    I call him Dad.

    I am thankful for the rare blessing
    of being twice blessed.

    November 18, 2012 – Prompt #82: Part 17: The Most Important Day of My Life
    It Could Happen To You

    Death entered the house…
    illusions of a charmed life shattered
    as tragedy unfolded slowly.
    Death walked the halls
    just waiting…
    and when he departed
    we were relieved, in grief
    our love and laughter shown brightest
    as we welcomed the release
    for him and for us
    from the pain.
    Life was irretrievably altered
    with the realization that anything
    can happen …
    even to you.

    {This poem is in reference to the death of my father. He was diagnosed with a terminal cancer and given three to five years. He lived eleven months and after all the chemo and radiation treatments turned him into a little old man at age thirty-nine, it was with a guilty relief that we said goodbye. I don’t think you can truly understand the relief and the guilt at feeling the relief, unless you have witnessed a love one suffer before dying. Also, at sixteen this is one of my earliest life changing events and one of the most vivid. It’s quite a shock to realize you are not invincible and that bad things can happen even to you.}

    There are perhaps too many life altering changes to pick from but I’m feeling the need to balance the dark with the light…

    No Manual

    With fearful anticipation
    we awaited your birth.
    Marveling in the changes
    you wrought from within.

    Then you entered the world
    and in a joyful panic
    we realized the world
    as we knew it, had ended.

    We had no desire to give you back
    but a manual would have been nice.
    We had no clue
    what to do with a mini you.

    Ten toes, ten fingers
    and the largest eyes I’ve ever seen,
    and curly dark hair
    a gift.

    No manual needed for love.

    {She just happens to be 15 today.}

    November 25, 2012 – Prompt #83: Part 18: Sibling
    Nothing in Common

    We didn’t look alike –
    I had dark brown hair,
    her hair was reddish brown;
    my eyes so dark, almost black
    hers a warm brown;
    but Mom liked to buy us
    matching outfits.

    We are four and half years apart –
    When I was a baby,
    she was going to kindergarten;
    I was learning to walk,
    she was reading books;
    I wanted to play barbies,
    she wanted to play monopoly;
    Mother made her play barbies.

    Everyone always thought I was the older sister,
    going to bars was never a problem for me,
    of course my sister never went to bars;
    She got married right out of high school
    and started producing babies (four of them);
    I went on to college, got married
    and didn’t have my first baby until almost thirty;

    I think I was born with a pen, paint brush and camera in my hand
    But it took my sister forty years to find her artistic gene;
    She immerses herself in her religion
    and shares it daily, with everyone (on facebook of course);
    I prefer to keep my religious view private,
    comfortable in my own spirituality;
    Politics? We don’t discuss politics.

    We don’t live nearby, we are states apart,
    and if I met her for the first time
    at a social gathering, I doubt we would be friends;
    And yet, if I needed her, she would come.
    For although we have nothing in common
    on the outside, within we are the same,
    and nothing, absolutely nothing surpasses
    our love, our bond, of family first.

    December 2, 2012 – Part 19: Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda
    One Regret

    The words I love so much
    were used with stabbing wit –
    Cutting deep, while disguised
    with mocking smiles
    and layers of cloying sweetness.

    Sometimes I pulled no punches
    laying it plainly on the table,
    no disguises, not realizing
    brutal honesty is not always best –

    With age
    you learn you really weren’t so smart or cool,
    sometimes honesty with holes is best –
    So I can’t erase the words
    nor turn time around,
    there is no making amends,
    all I can do is move forward
    putting the knives away
    letting the past melt into dust
    and hope the words I utter
    have no bite to them.

    December 9, 2012 – Part 20: Famous Last Words
    My Mantra

    With life’s little ups and downs
    some big ones and eek! Scary clowns,
    I have a little prayer that follows me around
    which I can chant within my head, no sound.

    I’m sure you’ve heard it once before,
    it can be found in many a door
    and sometimes all I need
    is one significant word, my creed.

    What is this prayer that holds my hand?
    The Serenity Prayer, I think it’s grand.
    In a flash just one word will do
    ‘Serenity’ from me to you.

    August 1, 2012 – Timeric
    Ill Dreams (Trimeric)

    Upon the couch I sat,
    out my window perched a bird,
    my eyes slowly shut –
    I dreamed I had wings.

    Out my window perched a bird
    who sang a merry song,
    he made me smile just a bit
    although it caused me pain.

    My eyes slowly shut,
    as they do quite frequently,
    this illness has taken hold,
    I feel it may be the death of me.

    I dreamed I had wings
    the illness fell away,
    the pain was in the past
    how I wish that was today.

    Ill Dreams (Trimeric) revised

    Upon the couch I sat,
    out my window perched a bird,
    my eyes slowly shut –
    I dreamed I had wings.

    Out my window perched a bird
    he made me smile just a bit,
    although it caused me pain.

    My eyes slowly shut,
    as they do quite frequently,
    this illness has taken hold of me.

    I dreamed I had wings
    the illness fell away,
    how I wish that was today.

    August 8, 2012 – Sevenling

    Scooting across the floor,
    crawling toward the stairs,
    walking through the grass –

    running to the front,
    skating along the ice,
    waltzing down the hall –

    keep chasing your dreams.

    Sevenling (She thought she heard)

    She thought she heard her name
    and looked behind her –
    no one was there.

    The tea kettle whistle blew
    and the seconds ticked by –
    the phone cradled in her hand.

    Death called and she wished she had been out.

    Sevenling (Gold drips)

    Gold drips from necks
    while rebels fight
    and politics impinge on our senses –

    Birds cry for food
    and dogs whine
    as the lazy days of summer linger on –

    Chores do not get done on their own.

    August 16, 2012 – In-Form Poet Wednesday L’Arora
    Aurora Borealis
    (Dawn’s Dance with the North Wind)

    Black skies
    filled with
    distance diamonds
    becomes the canvas
    for Dawn’s
    merry dance
    with the North Wind’s
    wild prance.

    Dawn dances
    across the sky
    teasing us
    with her beauty,
    winking out
    only to appear
    again, wowing us
    land-locked on this sphere.

    Then the north wind joins in
    and seems to blow
    the rainbow hues
    of natural light
    into a ribbon
    that twirls
    and bends
    like a young girl’s curls.

    While we humans
    can only watch
    with awe
    at the dazzling show –
    disappointed
    only when the curtain falls
    longing for another show
    before life’s end quietly calls.

    August 22, 2012 – Monorhyme
    For Robert

    Get well
    dear Robert and do not dwell
    on work left undone as you sit in feverish hell
    just rest a spell
    just rest each and every cell
    all will be well
    everything will be just swell.

    Dreams Beware

    I was floating in the air
    with nary a care
    when I realized something wasn’t there.
    I was beginning to give myself a scare
    and people below where starting to stare.
    In fact each woman was giving me a glare,
    while the men gave me winks with flare;
    I began to swear
    while hovering in midair,
    I was only wearing my hair,
    yes, I was completely bare.
    Oh lord, prayer.

    I would
    Make good
    If I could
    Like Robin Hood
    But I am misunderstood
    Said the robber with the hood
    To the cop, who was good

    There once was a czar
    With a crazy, long scar
    Who bought a star
    In a jar
    At the local bazzar

    “Psst, hey you, I heard
    You were looking for a bird?”
    “Yeah, on the street, I got the word.”
    His words were slurred
    and smelled slightly of bean curd
    as we conferred
    I thanked him for what he overheard
    promised to put in a good word

    August 29, 2012 PB – The Triquatrain form
    Blues

    I’ve got new shoes, I have the blues
    school starts soon –
    my heart goes crazy, I don’t want to be lazy
    but I love sleeping ‘til noon.

    I have new pens, I’ll see my friends
    but oh the sun does beckon
    school can be cool, I’m no fool
    there are the weekends I reckon.

    Six days left, I feel bereft
    Summer’s not even done.
    I should be happy, instead of sappy
    I’m going out to enjoy the sun!

    PB Poetic Form Wednesday, October 24, 2012 – Fibonacci
    One of my favorite forms!! 
    Changing Seasons

    One
    leaf
    drifts down,
    a final
    farewell to my frown.
    For as Autumn follows Summer –
    goodbye! – the snowflakes start to fall and my frown turns ‘round
    as I gleefully grab my gear –
    snow season is here!
    Starting now
    with each
    wee
    flake.

    Wednesday, October 31, 2012 PB – Blitz and PAD – Creepy
    Treats or Death

    Give some tricks
    Give some treats
    Treats for me
    Treats for you
    You sing and dance
    You scream and run
    Run for your life
    Run here he comes
    Comes after you
    Comes after you with a knife
    Knife gleams
    Knife drips with blood
    Blood drips and drips
    Blood drips to the beat
    Beat of your running feet
    Beat of your heart
    Heart beats fast
    Heart takes a leap
    Leap over stump
    Leap over fence
    Fence too tall
    Fence too long
    Long way to run
    Long way to home
    Home is safe
    Home is where you want to be
    Be there now
    Be there soon
    Soon or not
    Soon he will catch you
    You look behind
    You scream again
    Again you run
    Again you look
    Look there he is
    Look there is blood
    Blood no longer drips
    Blood gives you chills
    Chills your soul
    Chills run along your spine
    Spine will break
    Spine of steel
    Steel can’t break
    Steel is strong
    Strong enough to fight
    Strong enough to beat death
    Death is me
    Death you fear
    Fear
    Me

    February 3, 2013 – PB – The Children’s Hour – Prompt #93
    Get Your Giggles Going

    Let’s do a little wiggle
    watch that belly jiggle,
    then hear the belly laughs
    that come from each small giggle!

    Make a funny face
    I’ll make one back, it’s a race!
    My tongue is out, my eyes are crossed
    Click! A camera snap, giving chase!

    The tickle monster is here
    let’s give a little cheer, (cheer!)
    as I chase you around the room
    your giggles are very near.

    I’ve caught you at last
    and all you do is laugh and laugh!
    It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard
    coming from such a little bird!

    Get your giggles going!

    Jelly Fish Kisses

    Jelly fish kisses
    and tickle wishes
    and toes all in a row

    Rainbow lollipops
    and sticky kiss pops
    and giggles to and fro

    Soft, silky ringlets
    and warm snuggle hugs
    a healthy summer glow

    Pockets full of frogs
    and bugs on a log
    and rocks that are just so

    Giggles that tickle
    and words that bring laughs
    and putting on a show

    Kissing little ones
    when the day is done
    sweet dreams, off you go.

    At the Zoo with You

    One, two
    let’s go the zoo!
    Three, four
    look at the boar!
    Five, six
    monkey doing tricks!
    Seven, eight
    do penguins skate?
    Nine, ten
    where is Ben?
    Oh dear.
    Ten, nine
    those Hyena’s whine.
    Eight, seven
    I see swans! Eleven!
    Six, five
    watch that dolphin dive!
    Four, three
    let’s let them all free!
    Two, one
    the day is done.

    February 6, 2013 – PB – Chastushka
    Working Girl

    She liked to dance up on the stage,
    sometimes even within a cage.
    Catcalls and whistles made her smile
    she had a dream, married in style.

    February 10, 2013 – So Hey – What’s your prompt? Prompt #94
    Artistic Aquarian

    I create
    words with a message
    and paintings with a vision
    and photographs with a memory.

    I share
    what I create in hopes
    of inspiring thoughts,
    laughter, and feelings.

    I love
    what I do,
    who I have become
    and being surround by family and friends.

    I need
    nature in all her glory,
    quiet time with just me
    and my lingering memories

    I want
    to love and be loved
    to leave a better world for my children
    and chocolate cake.

    I am
    an Aquarian.

    February 13, 2013 – An OVILLEJO
    Confectionary Dreams

    During the night, a giant hand
    passed over the land
    gently tapping a sifter can,
    sprinkling began
    not water but powder falling
    a storm stalling
    but as the dawn begins crawling
    and as we rise out of our beds –
    candy coated trees greet our heads.
    Over the land sprinkling begins, a storm stalling.

    February 17, 2013 – READ IT IN A MAGAZINE – PROMPT #95
    Subatomic Calculations Indicate Finite Lifespan for Universe

    I’m okay with dying…

    When my body is wrinkled
    and filled with rusty spare parts;
    When I’ve read every drop of knowledge
    and what I can’t retain is leaking from my brain;
    When I’ve used all the words with eloquence
    and they just start falling out of sequence;
    When my eyes are dimmed
    and I can no longer be inspired by what I see.

    Until then…

    I’ll be living my life
    with all my own parts
    and having a knowledge feast
    on the words that adhere
    to the linguistic threads of my brain
    and enjoying the whiplash effect
    of visual acuity.

    Until then…

    I’ll be sowing the seeds
    floating on the winds of thoughts
    and circulating through time,
    hoping the best part of me
    has flown through the stars
    to distant galaxies
    before the sun expands.

    I’m okay with dying,
    when I’m done living.

    Subatomic calculations indicate finite lifespan for universe
    By Irene Klotz | Reuters – Tuesday, February 19, 2013 – Yahoo.com

    March 3, 2013 – TRUE SILENCE – PROMPT #97
    Eclectic Serenity (A Pantoum)

    Quite depends upon the occasion
    what thing will do the fix,
    a mathematical equation
    to work out all the ticks.

    What thing will do the fix
    when you need a bit of peace
    to work out all the ticks
    you might take a repairing lease.

    When you need a bit of peace
    I quite enjoy a cup of tea,
    you might take a repairing lease
    by lounging by the sea.

    I quite enjoy a cup of tea,
    the quite whispers of the breeze
    by lounging by the sea,
    though sometimes I tickle the ivories.

    The quite whispers of the breeze
    sooths my frantic soul,
    though sometime I tickle the ivories
    or take a little stroll.

    Sooths my frantic soul
    just to hold your hand in mine
    or take a little stroll
    also works just fine.

    Just to hold your hand in mine,
    close my eyes to thoughts –
    also works just fine
    to loosen all the knots.

    Close my eyes to thoughts
    a mathematical equation
    to loosen all the knots
    quite depends upon the occasion.

    March 10, 2013 – MEAN WHAT YOU SAY… SORT OF – PROMPT #98
    The Awakening of the Poetic Soul

    She used words with an aggressive dissipation,
    no shards of glass too sharp
    for the tender feet of the virgin reader.

    Feeling impotent and bewitched by
    the forthrightness of her language,
    language that was at once mesmerizing and lyrical,
    she read on in anticipation,
    the words dripping softly
    with an intoxication never thought to be achieved
    without the use of liquids.

    The solution resolved as she read
    and as the opaque veil of misunderstanding was lifted
    the poetic strings wrapped around her heart
    restoring her soul to the fundamental beginnings
    of awaken beauty.

    March 17, 2013 – GOD’S GREEN EARTH – PROMPT #99
    An Ode to ….

    Your dark verdant leaves,
    your earthy fragrance heaves
    into the nether reaches of my mind.

    Amongst your stalks
    fairy folk give talks
    on rainbows and pots that are gold lined.

    I like you raw
    I liked you cooked with, ah
    butter and spices, so refined.

    So with a hearty chuckle,
    please don’t crack your knuckle,
    I am resigned…
    to water plants, unwind.

    An Ode to … Broccoli

    emerald
    my eyes reflect the land
    at peace

    green
    the envy crawls the walls
    slow death

    A Life of Cleanliness

    green
    I don’t want to drink it
    nor breathe it
    but I must think it
    to keep the land
    green

    The Stately Queen – a Limerick

    There was a bit of emerald green
    upon the breast of the stately queen.
    She came to have some tea
    while gazing at the sea
    before dancing like a young colleen.

    March 24, 2013 – CELEBRATION OF THE CENTURY – PROMPT #100
    In Love with Words

    Loving words rolling off the tip of my tongue, tripping
    through bouquets of similes and metaphors, while alliteration arrives to
    take us to new planes of poetic paradoxes, sipping serenity
    and musing over the georgical meadows of a missing spring.
    Agog for the arrival of the next day, next chapter
    on the carousel of life, striving to be better, kinder
    than I ever thought I could be, seeking strength and
    words resonating through my soul, chasing mortification out the door.
    Celebrating being here, with you, partying with lyrical words, intent
    on absorbing the harmony, melodies of the here and now.

    April 3, 2013 – The Duo-rhyme
    Arriving Naked

    A pony comes out fully dressed,
    most mammals seem to be so blessed.
    So why do humans arrive bare?
    They arrive screaming at the air,
    not a single wisp of chest hair,
    only head hair, does not compare.
    Are they wanting something to wear?
    Where are their clothes? Seems unfair.
    It must be cold, they must be stressed,
    to come out bare, to come undressed.

    April 7, 2013 – #102 Ekphrastic Poetry – 2013 Photo Prompt #2
    Photo by Marjory M. Thompson
    Beaten

    Lying in the grass
    wounded by bullets,
    I can only shake my head…
    picturing the teenage boys
    sitting on their cars,
    a few brews between them,
    taking shots at the sign –
    teenagers making mischief,
    feeling empowered by the total lack
    of respect for rules and public property.

    Imagine my surprise
    when a fifty yards down the road
    there is a little, white haired old woman
    shooting at the “no passing” sign.

    I apologize to teenagers everywhere.

    Life in the Fast Lane

    Life…
    a busy, hectic struggle
    to get from point A to point B
    before anyone else does,
    or at least before you’re late.

    Disregard

    Disregarded on the side of the road
    (An old sign)
    a reminder
    (with limits,)
    to slow down,
    (we move so fast)
    take in the view
    (the view is a blur)
    enjoy the life we’re having
    (as we rush to the next anticipated event)
    in the here and now.
    (before we’re disregarded and forgotten on the side of the road.)

    April 10. 2013 – IN-FORM POETS WEDNESDAY – QUINZAINE
    I walk alone among you.
    Do you see me here?
    Do you care?

    (Okay that was totally depressing and totally fictional in case you were wondering. Going to go try a happier one.)

    Winter will not leave my side.
    Oh where, where is Spring?
    Where are you?

    (We are suppose to get 8-12 inches of snow tonight and into tomorrow. I’m so done with winter.)

    Please eat chocolate every day.
    Who says this to you?
    Wait. Say what?

    Holding the phone to my ear,
    they appear. Mom? Mom?
    Can I have…?

    April 14, 2013 – write a rain poem
    Winter’s Long Siege

    April rain
    gently brings forth
    blooming May flowers, green grass
    and puts a smile on my face to rival the bright light of the sunshine –
    but all I have is
    snow.

    April 17. 2013 – The pantun Formidable

    Cradled gently within her hands
    an injured bird with feathers bent.
    They swung to the beat of the big bands
    moving with grace, as one – they were simply meant.

    April 28, 2013 – PROMPT #105. Ekphrastic Poetry – 2013 Photo Prompt #3
    By Poetic Bloomings

    Photo Credit: Barbara Young
    THIS IS YOUR PROMPT. WHAT DOES IT SAY TO YOU?
    Thanks to Barbara Young for use of her photo.
    Beyond Repair (A Shadorma)

    A shell of
    her former self, she
    was lost in
    a field of
    gray, a void, she didn’t know if
    life was possible.

  17. May 1, 2013 – The Trois-par-huit
    Blooming

    One tiny
    fold peaks out all shiny
    and new, slowly unfurling her dress

    just for you. What will she be? Can you make a guess?
    Iris? Lily? A rose, waiting for your caress.
    I can’t wait to see her finished bloom,

    she’ll open winter’s tomb –
    goodbye gloom.

  18. May 5, 2013 – NOW, THAT’S FUNNY – PROMPT #106
    Do You Want to Hear a Dirty Joke?

    He asked her if she wanted to hear
    a dirty joke while sipping a beer.
    “Give it your best shot bud.”
    “A pig fell in the mud.”
    Cleanest dirty joke to cross my ear.

  19. May 8, 2013 – IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – FLORETTE
    Safe Harbor

    Weary from a world full of pain,
    trembling from the weight of the strain.
    Coming home where comfort is sought,
    knowing her mask is all for naught, resting her brain

    on rosemary scented pillows,
    her eyes closed, the curtain billows
    and she dreams of laughing again,
    dancing with him down in the glen, beneath willows

    waving gently in the soft breeze,
    close, kissing and with knees to knees.
    She wraps her hands tight, to keep him,
    feeling him like a phantom limb, can’t let go, please.

  20. May 19, 2013 – PB – write a bad poem
    Nonsense

    No meter
    no rhyme
    no chickens
    no nickels
    dirt between the toes
    yes, and freckles
    marmalade

  21. May 26, 2013 – PB – get it together – take two different objects/subjects and find a common thread
    Chocolate Ankles
    “Life is like a box of chocolates…” – Forrest Gump

    You never know what life will throw at you next –
    It’s a surprise, like the unknown center of a piece of chocolate.

    Sometimes life takes you for a smooth ride,
    melting away the layers of ignorance with each new experience.

    Sometimes the road of life is fill with bumps and pits,
    challenging us to complete this moment before moving on.

    Sometimes life just is…
    sweet contentment from one minute to the next.

    Sometimes we get surprises we don’t like (I’m thinking coconut filling here),
    like ligaments stretched and sprained in an ankle, requiring rest, elevation and ice.
    Slowing us down to a snail’s pace, only to find the sweet surprise of fulfillment,
    As more writing and observation is accomplished in a single day compared to the entire last week.

    Butterfly Kisses

    Poems are like butterfly kisses,
    the thoughts and ideas flit and flutter
    around in our minds,
    until finally landing solidly
    in the palm of our hands.

  22. June 5, 2013 – IN-FORM POET WEDNESDAY – HEXSONNETTA
    Lamenting Spring, Aching for Summer

    Her arrival is late,
    the cold and soggy air
    but makes us mad and swear.
    Up close to my man, mate –
    each night, like a first date,
    my soul and body bare.

    May, just a lime green haze
    with blooms slow to appear
    and June barely in gear,
    through a drizzle filled daze
    look skyward for sun rays,
    Summer slowly comes near.

    I long for hot, dry heat –
    less rain, bare toes, cold treat.

  23. July 1, 2013 – PB LIFE IS A BEACH – ALOHA! (HELLO)
    By Poetic Bloomings
    July 1st – We begin with a hearty hello. Aloha! as they say on the Islands. Funny word, Aloha! It means both hello AND good bye. It covers you coming and going. But for today we are concerned with the hello aspect of the word.
    We’re saying hello to the beach. What are you anticipating from the season? What recollections do you have of a great day at the beach? Maybe you are greeting the summer? Any salutatory opening will suffice. Recall them here and let us join you in saying Aloha!

    Aloha

    Not a tropical beach
    in the equatorial clime;
    But a wooded one
    in a northern latitude.

    A golden orb rises to say hello,
    bathing the morning in golden light
    and I imagine it’s the same
    golden glow on that tropical beach.

    And there is no place I would rather be
    than here…
    greeting the morning and a new day
    with you.

    July 2, 2013 – PB – a deserted beach

    Bliss

    A moment alone with you…
    the beach.

    The gradient hues
    of the turquoise sea
    calm the soul in my eyes
    and the tangy sea spray
    clings to my skin
    until I feel like an extension of the sea.

    Lulled by the cadence of her song
    as her jewel encrusted waves
    caress the pale pink sand
    beneath my painted toes.

    With my eyes wide open
    I inhale the sight,
    the sound,
    the smell,
    the taste,
    and the feel …
    of holding a moment of bliss
    with just me
    and the sea.

    July 3, 2012 – PB – abstract poem – a full beach

    Beach Rhythms (An Abstract Poem)

    Anyone gathers at a bang, bang beach
    lapping, lapping, lapping
    cold grease slides
    in and out, in and out
    coconut clouds dance through noses
    spitting brine through smiles
    serving of leather
    lapping, lapping, lapping
    ooo eee, ooo ah ah dancing feet
    in and out, in and out
    talking dogs
    spitting brine through smiles
    rhythms…bang, bang beach.

    July 4, 2013 – Fireworks at the beach

    Fireworks

    No sight can give me shivers
    and make my heart pound,
    like the booming of the canons
    setting off the fireworks from the ground.

    The oo’s and ah’s of my neighbors,
    the giggles of delight;
    the occasionally scared young cry
    are all a part of this magic night.

    Whether in a field
    or sitting on the shore,
    I give thanks for our freedom
    as I scour the sky for more.

    July 5, 2013 – a swimming poem
    Wave Riders

    Waiting…
    for a wave
    to catch
    first with their eye,
    then with their bodies;
    riding the wave
    always coming back to me.

    July 6, 2013 – PB – a lifeguard poem

    On the Surface

    A blue bottle on a blue sea,
    a bit of plastic so sad to see.
    But as it drifts closer in,
    we find we are wrong.
    No plastic here,
    a bit of war
    has come to the shore.

    Their tentacles pack a nasty sting
    and if there was a lifeguard here
    he would surely close the beach.
    For now they carefully move the bit of war
    out of reach.

    July 7, 2013 – PB – Sandcastles – a big dream/ambition/or a sandcastle

    Just Right

    She made a wee castle
    surrounded by rocks
    and on each rounded turret
    were bits of lake weed and rocks.
    The highest turret
    was crowned with a black snail shell.

    Her castle was small and cozy,
    perfect for a wee lass
    and her family…
    imagination reflected in the sands…
    she made a wee castle.

    July 8 , 2013 – PB – Seaweed/Kelp
    Coming Up For Air

    Overburdened
    struggling, finally cutting free
    of the seaweed holding me down;
    Feeling as if I’ve broken through the surface
    and tasted a fresh gulp of air,
    buoyed by the knowledge
    my path, for now, is clear.

    July 9, 2013 – PB – Boating

    The Wind in her Sails

    Hot breezes give her rise,
    picking up speed
    she blows by everyone else
    without pause, giving no quarter
    gaining momentum,
    until a shift in directions
    deflates her sails;
    flustered, she musters her ropes
    to follow,
    gaining momentum
    once again.

    July 10, 2013 – PB – Seagulls/Triolet

    Dance of the Seagulls

    Seagulls dancing upon the air,
    above a moving bed of gems.
    Talking, floating with seagull flare,
    seagulls dancing upon the air.
    Catching their breath, so debonair
    picturing in their beaks, a stem…
    Seagulls dancing upon the air,
    above a moving bed of gems.

    July 11, 2013 – PB – Lakes, Oceans and Waterways
    Water

    I’ve seen the north Atlantic
    from both sides of the pond
    and while they have a dark and wild beauty
    I can’t claim to be overly fond.

    The pacific was my home
    and I enjoyed her sunny shore,
    her tidal pools and sea life
    was never a bore.

    I traveled down to frolic in the Gulf of Mexico
    and while fun, that spot for me, was a definite no.

    The most beautiful ocean spot I’ve ever seen
    was the vivid turquoise seas
    surrounding Bermuda’s tiny scene.
    I would go back ten hundred times
    but never call it home,

    for home lies in the lakes
    ten thousand to precise,
    with the gentle laps against the shore
    and the loon’s haunting call…
    here I am at peace
    not longing at all.

    July 12, 2013 – PB Starry, Starry Night

    the moon
    and her reflection
    follow me home

    July 13, 2013 – PB – Lighthouses

    Split Rock (Cinquain)

    Rocky
    shores hidden by
    gales of wind, rain and surf
    a beacon in the night, stay back
    stay safe.

    July 14, 2013 – PB Picnic

    Reunions

    Once a year
    we meet
    along the Mississippi
    to chat and eat.

    We catch up on news
    while sharing great food,
    we play a little bingo
    everyone’s in a good mood.

    We snap photos
    and laugh,
    we hold babies
    and we eat more on behalf
    of those not with us.

    The party is over
    in the late heat of day,
    after snapping that group shot
    it’s time we were on our way.

    Until next year
    we say good-bye
    and pick up where we left off
    with hardly a blink of an eye.

    July 15, 2013 – PB Tides

    Soothing the Soul

    The rhythmic rolling
    of the tides
    soothes my lonely soul,
    filling me
    with a peace inside
    of which
    I will not let go.

    The rhythmic rolling
    of the tides
    makes me feel a part,
    of something
    bigger than myself,
    it fills
    my lonely, little heart.

    The rhythmic rolling
    of the tides
    answers her beck and call,
    Mother Nature
    knows the best cure for
    lonely hearts
    is to slowly breach the wall.

    The rhythmic rolling
    of the tides
    simply soothes my soul.

    July 16, 2013 – PB – Amusement Parks

    Amusement Parks

    Up and down
    on the Merry-Go-Round,
    animals on parade.

    Rides galore
    screaming for more,
    cotton candy on my chin.

    The day was fun
    but now it’s done,
    shuffling home in the dark.

    July 17, 2013 – PB – Ekphrasis photo prompt
    Photo by Walt Wojtanik
    Agates

    Where the sand is wet
    is where the color pops!
    Finding pearly shells
    and colorful rocks
    but oh! those agates…
    their lines smoothed by time, sand and wave.
    Rubbing my thumb
    over and over
    those smooth lines,
    like my eyes
    over the lines
    of a poem…
    the lines smoothed by time, eyes and the delete key.
    Hoping for an agate
    of my own
    making.

    July 18, 2013 – PB – children

    Mermaids

    One child
    longs to be
    a mermaid
    in the sea.

    Every year
    she asks
    to go
    where the sea
    does flow.

    At every beach
    she builds a castle,
    at every beach
    she collects the shells,
    at every beach
    she swims in the swells.

    Even when her lips are blue
    she’ll want to stay,
    so we bury her in the sand
    and give her a tail
    but she’s still on land.

    One child
    longs to be
    a mermaid
    in the sea.

    July 19, 2013 – PB – Waves

    undulating
    rhythms of life
    going by

    July 19, 2013 – PAD – Cinquain Challenge due July 23rd
    (intense physical imagery to create a mood or feeling)

    Moon Lit Beach

    Gazing…
    at crescent peaks
    undulating at me,
    their rhythms help my anger to fade
    away.

    Autumn Walks

    Beneath
    those walking feet
    withered leaves crack and crunch,
    crisp blue sky, hills of patchwork quilts
    fill eyes.

    Frozen In Time

    Frost clings
    to slumbering
    trees as the morning sun
    rises, the trees begin to weep
    relief.

    Spring Rains

    Springtime…
    the mud season,
    eight small paws to wipe clean.
    Waiting patiently for green grass,
    new scene.

    July 20, 2013 – PB – Just Another Day in Paradise (Use words: coconut, bamboo, hut, native, clothes, idyllic, palm tree, hungry
    On An Idyllic Afternoon (Double Cinquain)

    Palm trees
    and coconut
    ring the beach, a bamboo
    mat and a pile of clothes await –
    rising
    from the
    water, a gal
    gone native, casually
    strolls, enjoying her deserted
    playground.

    July 21, 2013 – PB – Muscle Beach/Bikini Beach
    Excess

    If you have it
    please feel free to flaunt it
    but if you don’t
    please just sit.

    We have no desire
    to see you in a thong
    or in a string bikini
    miles long.

    The purple speedo
    on that very old man,
    the beer belly
    that surely needs a tan.

    Resisting age (and gravity)
    is all well and good
    but some things
    are better left
    under cover
    or perhaps
    just for your lover.

    July 22, 2013 – PB – A Million Fish in the Sea
    You

    A million fish in the sea
    but you’re the one for me!
    I tried out a few:
    One was too grasping,
    one was too old,
    one was a jerk,
    one was too bold!
    Then I found you
    and our story
    started to unfold,
    a continuing saga,
    hopefully…
    till we are very old.
    A million fish in the sea
    but you’re the one for me.

    July 23, 2013 – PB – Romance
    Love Words

    I put a seashell to my ear
    expecting the ocean
    to be what I hear
    but to my surprise
    it was your voice
    whispering
    love words
    into my ear.

    July 24, 2013 – PB – Suntan/Sunburn (Rondeau) A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short – a refrain (R) consisting of a phrase taken from line one. The other lines are longer (but all of the same metrical length).
    Sun Worship

    String bikinis tied securely in a bow,
    beach towel laid out just so.
    Now to layer on the baby oil,
    sure hope I don’t boil.
    A little breeze could blow…

    Beach volleyball with the new beau,
    cooling off in the water, back and fro.
    I think I’m on a slow broil –
    String bikinis

    Smore’s on the beach as the day begins to slow,
    what a fun day, although
    I’m as a red as a lobster, you’d think I wore foil,
    too tender to kiss, I’m a bit of a spoil.
    So red, my bikini lines look like snow –
    Sting bikinis

    July 25, 2013 – PB – Collecting Seashells
    One Bucket

    Sibling rivalry melted away…
    bodies crouched,
    hair dangling,
    they shared each and every find
    before placing them carefully
    in the bucket –
    collecting shells.

    Shells

    Shells at the seashore or by the lake –
    Holding them in the palm of her hand,
    Each one so carefully…
    Lingering over every detail, as if
    Learning to become a master craftsman of
    Shells.

    July 26, 2013 – PB – Watersports
    kayaking a sheet of glass
    Loon calls
    my only company

    July 27, 2013 – PB – Horizons
    Ado

    I’m on my way
    to a land in the north
    where the sky is clear
    and Fur Elise cannot buzz in my ear.

    So, goodbye my good fellows
    enjoy the daily grind
    I’ll be lying above the rocky beach
    swaying in my hammock
    as I listen to the loons…

    and as the sun sets below the horizon
    I’ll think of you – briefly…
    sending you a kiss on the wind
    as I go back to watching the show,
    the Aurora Borealis.

    July 28, 2013 – PB – Driftwood
    At the water’s edge –
    wind and water have smoothed his feathers
    and aged his weathered head…
    an Eagle soars.

    July 29 2013 – PB – Silhouette
    Watching the day tuck itself in –
    The silhouettes of a father and daughter.

    July 30, 2013 – PB – Sunset
    The sun sets
    behind the cloudy, dust trails
    left by her galloping steeds.

    July 31, 2013 – PB – Aloha! (Goodbye) (Pantoum)
    Aloha!

    The time has come to say goodbye
    moving on to whatever may come next,
    I’ll miss your breathy, evening sigh
    but not your mosquito subjects.

    Moving on to whatever may come next,
    I’ll dream of the calling loons
    but not your mosquito subjects.
    I wish to see them only in cartoons.

    I’ll dream of the calling loons
    long after winter has set in,
    I wish to see them only in cartoons
    until summer can begin.

    Long after winter has set in
    I’ll miss your breathy, evening sigh
    until summer can begin…
    the time has come to say goodbye.

  24. August 25, 2013 – A baffled poem
    A Baffled Brook

    It didn’t bubble and gurgle
    as a babbling brook should,
    instead it tinkled and dripped
    like a leaky faucet would.

    We kind of liked the quiet sound
    and decided to call it “The Whispering Tinkle”
    and we giggled
    causing our eyes to wrinkle.

    People walked by us,
    baffled at our merriment
    but smiling just the same.

  25. August 28, 2013 – Dorsimbra
    Elephants

    A rumble moves my jars across the room,
    a horn carries my eardrums out the door.
    Fearing my house will soon become my tomb,
    I fall and slowly try to cross the floor.
    Doors slam,
    voices yell,
    four hellions
    invade my space.
    They come to raid my frig and drink me dry
    then leave as quickly as they came, slam door,
    voices yell and then slowly fade away –
    a rumble moves my jars across the room.

  26. September 1, 2013 – working, working, working

    labor unrest
    the hammer fell silent –
    all doors should be locked

  27. September 4, 2013 – Oddquain
    “What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies within you.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

    About Face (A reverse oddquain)

    One
    breathtaking glance in the glass
    you realize you
    like yourself
    now.

    “True friends stab you in the front.” – Oscar Wilde

    Frontal Assault (a butterfly oddquain)

    The
    truth has teeth
    sharpened on the bone
    and blood of our mistakes and
    a
    true friend will look you in the
    eye without flinching,
    laying it
    down.

  28. September 8, 2013 – Looking forward/ Looking back
    Looking Back

    Still
    in love with
    the oddquain format,
    she writes an oddquain ode right
    here.

    “I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.” – Charlotte Bronte

    Looking

    I seldom look forward
    nor do I look back
    but constantly up
    and to the side
    to see what made that song
    winding through my ears
    and around my heart.

    What caused the rustle
    which caused my heart
    to pick up the pace
    and my feet to jig
    across the ground.

    A stumble
    will cause me to look forward and down
    for just a moment,
    to catch my balance
    and then I resume
    my love affair
    with the world around me.

    With my eyes open,
    looking…
    I’m constantly going forward.

  29. My prbelom was a wall until I read this, then I smashed it.

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