brown around the edge
brown around the edge
now, a toast
to words unspoken!
be a part
of their new DNA
as they rest in peace.
this new day
as morning dew perch
blades of grass
reflecting colors of dawn –
I embrace the day
The Shadorma consists of a six-line stanza (or sestet). Each stanza is written as 3-5-3-3-7-5 for a total of 26 syllables with no set rhyme scheme. When writing a Shadorma, I would concentrate on a specific subject. Shadorma need a title.
For Tanka Tuesday with Colleen where we are using the specific form- Shadorma. To read or participate go here
I did not start out thinking I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace.
But now, as we gather to honor and remember I can see how it would have added to the heady, live perfume of the garden and to the much appreciated diversion.
It was all still so raw, still so new. The whips of conversations –
“…What the hell was he doing on a motorcycle at his age?…” “…He was living his life…”. “…I still can’t believe he’s gone…”, “…you know how he is, was…”
blending with talks about the scents that filled our senses as we fiddled with the blooms. Taking turns with the butterflies, and bees.
This felt surreal.
As it turned out, this gathering in this place of sweet diversions did bring with it a certain peace. For this, I was grateful.
For dVerse where the prompt is to use
“I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace.”
from the Katherine Riegel poem, “What I would like to grow in my Garden.”
To participate or just read, go here
Moving across parched earth
a ground level dust cloud drifts
With the same breeze comes the scent of rain.
It was the rainy season and
somewhere in the distance
a quenching was in progress
Soon, it will be time for that soothing rhythm on the tin roof
Soon, it will be time to secure a spot on the verandah and make paper boats for the puddles
Then scampering down the steps through large plopping raindrops to set sail the next paper boat
Paper boat sailing – in this family of four kids, a rite of passage.
For the dVerse prompt where Jo is the host. The prompt words is Scent. To stop by to read or participate go here.
In mid tumble it swayed sideways. It looked like a butterfly, but there betrayal came in the landing. A falling yellow leaf is what it was. But, for a moment, it was pure joy to watch. At least I could see it. It’s better than chasing a memory that remains illusive. One that I still haven’t been able to bring into full focus.
Now, through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings..I listen closely. Along with the voice were melancholy strains from a horn played by the likes of Miles or Coletrane.
I should know this, I do know this. I close my eyes and surf the notes, willing and carefree. It’s laced with a hint of the blues. Maybe not remembering this title is a gift. Because I would just play it over, and over again, to what end?
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:—
–by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., from The Chambered Nautilus.
This line is to be incorporated into a piece of prose over at dVerse Poets Pub. The deadline to submit to the prompt has come and gone. But I’m now posting it to OLN ( open link night) To check out what’s going on over there go to the link above. A good weekend to all.
a turbulent time
the planet in an uproar
the earth pushes back
steady roll, unrelenting –
it seems warnings are no more
For Ronovan Writes Haiku where the prompt words are “Steady & Rolling” to read or to participate go here
These conversations of ours
It feels like you are forever in my presence
moreso than when you walked the earth
So agreeable, and still with the jokes
Don’t you have somewhere else to be?
What type of grieving is this?
– these conversations of ours
For dVerse Poets Pub where the host, De, gives the word Type to be used in a quadrille (a 44 word poem created at dVerse). To participate or just read, go here
I live near a pier. The only activity here is from the locals – a virtual united nations. No boats, no ferries and that is a good thing.
People come out to fish. But I’ve come to realize that this is less about fishing, and more about community. They come out for sunrise, sunsets and in between, picnics and barbecues on days spent by the water.
People are just people. And when we allow for that, we’re all the better for it.
sunrise off the pier
a very picturesque blush-
here, the earth meets sky
For Word Craft with Colleen where the prompt is “taste the rainbow” to read more about it go here.
after raging storm..
life returning to normal
new sand from ocean
now calmly hugging the shore
hosting footprints – till next time
For Ronovan Writes Haiku Prompt where the prompt words are Life & Sand. To see other entries or participate go here.