Take Me Away

My evening prayer is made into a satellite transmitter.  It is the same every night, except Sundays.  On Sunday night, I hike to the top of Mount Mitchell and wait…  I have done this without fail for the last 500 weeks.  Last night (a Saturday) was prayer number 3,000, and the only variation was the pronouncement that it would be my last.  It went like this:  “Please take me away from this place.  I will be waiting for you at the top of Mount Mitchell at 10 p.m. on Sunday.  This will be my final request.”  So, here I am at 10 p.m. on a beautiful Sunday night at the top of Mount Mitchell, as the most spectacular spacecraft makes its descent.  Finally!

Reena’s Xploration Challenge #336

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Night Train

On the night train there is no hoot hoot hoot hoot of the barred owl or the chirp chirp chirp of cricket stridulation.  There is only the rhythmic cha, cha, cha of the wheels on the track. The hypnotic tempo, combined with the undulating motion of the train, gently lulls me to sleep. I do not stir until the glare from the city lights shine upon my face. An incandescent sunrise indicating it is time to depart.

riding the night train
manufactured cadence serves
in lieu of crickets

W3 Prompt #112: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week,  Jude Itakali, prompts us to write a haibun using onomatopoeia (x3) on the theme of “the beauty of night.”

dVerse Poetics: Traveling by train, hosted by Punam.

Laughing Gull

A groggy early morning stroll on the beach
Roused by a cacophony of maniacal laughter
Almost as good as a cup of morning coffee

I. J.’s Birds of the Week Invitation LXIX. Photos taken at North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina during spring season.

A Haibun: Spirit of Summer

I am loving the long, balmy days as we approach the Summer Solstice.  I have picked the first cucumber from my garden and the few blueberries that the birds were kind enough to leave for me.  I am taking almost daily trips to parks and gardens – staying local as I await the arrival of my second grandchild.  Though it is only the beginning of summer, the knowledge that days will soon be growing shorter brings forth a sense of loss.  

dance in the garden
possessed by summer spirit
thinning of the veil

dVerse Haibun Monday 6-17-24: Solstice hosted by Frank Tassone

Colleen’s 24 Seasons Syllabic Poetry Challenge, No. 39

Sunrise to Sunset

I rise with sun…

And play in the garden…

Sniffing a flower or two…

I picnic with a goose…

Then rest among the trees…

Before sailing off into the sunset…

For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Your Daily Dose of Sunrise and Sunset

Sunday Drive

A peaceful retreat behind the wheel
Lulled by the soft hum of the open road
No death grip highway rush today
Country roads bypass urban sprawl 
Lined by hayfields and corn rows  
Opening to green pastures
The road plays hide and seek over peaks and into valleys
As it winds through foothills of the large mountains 
Which seem to exist for the sole purpose of panorama
It passes nostalgically through through quaint villages
Ventures upon precarious bridges 
Wide, shallow rivers meander along rocky terrain
Taking it easy on a calm sunny day 
Like the local folk on a Sunday drive


Weekend Writing Prompt #368 – Quaint

Artistic Seats

Once a sleepy little town
Grew tired of bricks red and brown
Their drab and dreary paved walkways
No place to sit on a pleasant day
Revitalization was the ticket
Artwork placed on exhibit
A setting to rest tired feet
Perched upon artistic seats

Pull Up a Seat Photo Challenge – Week 24

Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – Sleep

A Hike Up Ben Nevis

A beautiful day in the Scottish highlands, sweet!
Perfect for a climb up Ben Nevis; 
a feat I intended today to do 
whether sunny or not.
The cliffs that edge the mountain make my knees quake,
but the view is to die for.
Rainbows arc over distant mountains, though 
this mountain remains dry. Thank you!” say I 
to the great Ben Nevis with love.

W3 Prompt #111: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week, Robbie, prompts us to write a golden shovel poem “using a quote by any famous or well-known politician, artist, writer, or poet…”

I chose the following line from Ben Nevis: A Dialogue by John Keats: “Sweet Nevis do not quake, for though I love”

The featured photo shows two actual photographs I took from the top of Ben Nevis many years ago.

Royal Terns

Why do the Terns stand there so?
Still as statues
Faces to the wind
Is there hope for stillness on a summer day?
When crowds of beach-goers line the shores
Certain to provoke flight

I. J.’s Birds of the Week Invitation LXVIII

Eugi’s Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Hope for

Figmental Firefly

Fairies flee to trees
Hot summer sun there drives them
under green leaf shade

They recount stories
generations old folktales 
of the first firefly
Tales of figmental beetles
that emit light while flying

Rainy season comes
Fairies flit between raindrops
Fireflies hide from view

Colleen’s 24 Seasons Syllabic Poetry Challenge, No. 38

dVerse Quadrille hosted by Lillian

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