Lone dusky dreamscape
Sea oats wave rueful farewells
Sun kisses goodnight
W3 Prompt #167: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week, Marion, prompts us to write a poem that includes the word scape.
A Tanka: Fungi
Ears seemingly sprout
They listen to the old tree
Take its final breath
Akin to the dinner bell
The bittersweet circle spins
Colleen’s TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge No. 20, Synesthesia
Guess what this is?
Take a guess
and right you’d be
A bird app not needed
for identity
A red-headed woodpecker —
obviously
I. J.’s Birds of the Week Invitation CXXIII
Becky’s Squares – “simply red.”
Seed of Promise
They shrink under the ruthless sun
Seeds of hope scattered on dry ground
Each dismally shriveled… but one
Single seed of promise unbound
Sprouts roots of depthness so profound
Intelligence beyond comprehension?
Unfurling in directions that confound
Conveying its own intention
W3 Prompt #166: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week, Val, prompts us to write a Huitain on the theme of “seeds,” literally or figuratively.
Ticking Bomb
Until reality smacks our face
Denial is our best defense
Creating lame excuses
All witnesses we are
We watch them tick down
The bombs we built
Do explode
So quick
Boom
Boom
So quick
Do explode
The bombs we built
We watch them tick down
All witnesses we are
Creating lame excuses
Denial is our best defense
Until reality smacks our face
Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge No. 19, hosted by Willow. Willow prompts us to write a Nonet on: “The state of the world/ or our lives.” Focused on the environment, but the sentiment seems to apply to many things wrong in the world. I mirrored the Nonet.
Cartoon bombs created with Microsoft AI.
Standout
Why you?
So many shells washed upon the shore
Ignored, stepped upon, shattered
You… scattered among them
Whole, unscathed, beautiful
You blend in with the crowd
Just another shell… not
There is something about you
Nobody’s rules seem to apply
You just are
And we… bask in your shadow
W3 Prompt #165: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week, Bob, prompts us to write a metaphorical poem that includes the phrase “nobody’s rules,” inspired by his poem “What Remains.” I’m skipping the “brief note” due to time constraints.
A Choka: Fig Harvest
Ripened finally
Time for harvesting is now
All at once it comes
Way too much of a good thing
Creativity
Is required in the kitchen
A love-hate relationship
Abundance of figs
Hang heavily on the tree
A curse and reward
Consumed fresh, dried, stewed and baked
Perhaps I should learn to can
Colleen’s TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge No. 18
Pond Slider
Shifting Sands
The sands of time
Ever shifting
Layers of useless silt
Piled in mounds
Coating reality
Strong storms brew
Ferocious dust clouds swirl
Envelop in debilitating disorientation
Time . . . passes
Stubborn sands settle anew
A few grains lost to the wind, perhaps
Unwavering truth poking through
W3 Prompt #164: Wea’ve Written Weekly poet of the week, Sheila, prompts us to write a quadrille on the theme of loss and what remains.
Gathering
Summer gatherings
A seaside congregation
Familiar strangers
Flocking together
Differences set aside
Summer breezes shared
A medley of feet
Dash across the scalding sand
Splashing summer sea
A variety of terns were gathered together on a South Carolina beach. They reminded me of the hoards of people that congregate together on the beach in summer — strangers gathered in close proximity for the shared enjoyment of the sea. The featured photo showcases two royal terns and a Forster’s tern. The least tern (above) is tiny by comparison and apparently more skittish. There were two assembled with the rest of the group, but they would run off as I approached.
TankaTuesday Poetry Challenge No. 17, hosted by Selma.
JJJ Interactive Books 