I’m not remembering
what planted the seed
Maybe it was the repetition,
Everything three times
The bare bones of the vocabulary
was odd
Always seem to be searching trying to hang onto thoughts in flight
No one dared put words to such unsettling thoughts
Pat
5/04/21
At dVerse Poets Pub Merril is hosting Quadrille night, we’re using “seed” in a poem.
It is especially windy today, and a bit cold. It feels like a leftover winter day. The pear tree is up in arms. Limbs are being tossed about and there are blossoms everywhere. They are on the car, the steps, the yard next door, the sidewalk and the short japanese maple. It was weird seeing falling blossoms perch on the maple’s leaves, if only for a moment.
The toddler next door is in his front yard with his grandmother. I pause to watch him from the porch as I wave hello to the grandmother. Why are they even outside on a day like this, I wonder. Cabin fever perhaps.
He is fascinated and is trying to catch blossoms in midair. Of course, he never really catches any. Yet, at the present moment, he is very much in the present and there is fun to be had.
spring wind cuts a path
carpet of pear blossoms with
vanishing footprints..
Pat
4/26/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where Frank is hosting and the prompt is… ” the present moment”. To join in or just read go here
Stomping through puddles
in my Sunday best
Sailing paper boats
in rain puddles.
Lessons on the smell of rain
“Smell that?”, she’d ask.
When the first plopping raindrops
hit parched soil.
Time taken for the little things,
never a bother
to my warrior mother.
Pat
4/19/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where De is hosting and the prompt is “Bother”. To participate or to just read go here.
I keep you
deep in my heart
you waltzed in
curled up
and never left
ever so often
I find myself hiding you
in my poetry
yes – I do keep you
deep in my heart
Pat
4/08/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where Grace is hosting and the prompt is body parts as metaphors To read or join in go here
knowing looks, whispers
outright aggression
due only to the skin one is in
this norm sewn into our fabric
not swiftly abandoned
cannot withstand hard looks
does this not gnaw
at every soul?
this thing, that is undoing us,
will it ever be excised?
Pat
3/08/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where Sarah is hosting and the prompt is “Swift” on quadrille night ( a 44 word poem).
My mom is at home on hospice care. Her independence has been dealt a blow. Dementia reared its ugly head but, she forges on. At times she drifts.
in talks with long gone kin
peers across dimension
without much intension
a slip in time..
Pat
2/22/21
For dVerse Poets Pub where it is quadrille night. Our host asks us to write a 44 word poem with the use of the word “go”. I used “gone”.
To read or join in go here https://dversepoets.com/2021/02/22/goinggoinggone-poeming/
The consumed moon
frees itself creating shapes
with edges of pale yellow dreams.
Forming silhouettes with dim accuracy,
scrawling scenes right for rich imaginations,
poof of painted mirth.
On this night, in this sky
soothing in its quiet and beauty
solitudes wish fulfilled.
Pat R
10/20/20
For dVerse Poets Pub where I chose the following five “charms” of Samuel Greenberg as per instructions for the prompt where Laura Bloomsbury is hosting Poetics. We are looking at the poetry of Samuel Greenberg. To participate or read, go here.
The following are the words incorporated in my poem: Yellow dreams; Accuracy; Consumed moon; Painted mirth; Solitudes wish
They are from his poem “The pale Impromptu” by Samuel Greenberg.
the tall maple is a shimmering yellow
the deep crunch beneath my feet
sounds mournful still
its twin to the left
was being gnawed at by rot
and had to be removed
since then I haven’t had the heart
to poach its sticky syrup
I will never forget the gasp escaping the earth
as huge sections of the trunk was felled
the house shook
Pat R
10/13/20
For dVerse Poets Pub… an interesting prompt this week where Sarah is hosting – Three little words. Stop by to read or participate here
My choice : Sticky. Left. Gasp
Lately, there has been nothing to the days but gray. It looks like a brewing storm. But it would turn out to be a calm slate of gray that just lingers. This look is carried through to the nights.
My crystal ball can’t say how clear the night sky will be in the mountains. But I am really looking forward to getting out of the city just the same.
The plan is to leave at eight in the morning, so naturally we left at eleven. This is always the case. Especially when this is not going to be a day trip.
Pedestrians are walking over the Tappan Zee bridge walkway. This is a new addition. What an amazing view that must be. That, is going on my to do list.
Ongoing road works along the route is finally over. This makes for a more pleasant ride. Along the way, we pull over every now and then for photos of turning leaves.
In the mountains I look forward to gazing at a night sky that offers some rewards.
bathing in moonlight
on this clear autumn night
creekside stargazing
Pat R
9/29/20
For dVerse Poets Haibun Monday where the prompt is The Moon, and Frank is hosting. To participate or just read go here.
And for Eugi’s blog where the prompt is Crystal Ball
And for
For Ronovan Writes Haiku where the prompt is Calm & Storm
Like most homes with kids, bedtime meant stories. In our house, it was tall tales and ghost stories told by my dad.
Learning how to cast shadow puppets against the wall, and tales of shooting and twinkling stars were my favorites. Especially if we had just seen it from the varandah before bedtime. Then, there were the magical tales of the moon. Always the moon.
Ellie and Portia always wanted to know why did the cow jump over the moon? Also, what was the man in the moon doing while this was happening? To this my dad always had an answer, a different one everytime, and more fantastical than the last. Ellie and Portia would get really quiet. Those two – “…In their dreams they sleep with the moon… “
Pat R
9/15/20
For Prosery Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Merril where the rule is to use this line in your prose, no alterations, in no more that 144 words.
“In their dreams
they sleep with the moon.”–From Mary Oliver, “Death at Wind River”
To read and participate go here
