Books and Poetry
Hope is that curiosity leads to adventure;
That discovery results in wonderment;
That joy is found in the little things;
That love is all encompassing;
That the exigencies of life promote strength;
That, through it all, a little innocence remains.
Written in response to “W3 Prompt #48: Wea’ve Written Weekly,” hosted by poet of the week, Kerfe Roig. “Begin your own poem with the words ‘Hope is…’ and see where it takes you.”
How can you be called a weed?
Beautiful and fragrant are you;
A wildflower to be true.
I have waited all season to touch your soft petals;
Caress your lovely stem;
I flutter around your leaves;
Admire their prominent veins;
Finally, I alight on a violet petal;
And drink from your nectary.
Written in response to dVerse poetry prompt hosted by SarahSouthwest – “Weeds Rule OK?”
I have written this poem in response to W3 prompt #47 at skepticskaddish.com, hosted by poet of the week, Punam Sharma. The guidelines are to write a Pantoum on the theme of abandonment. Additional information about a Pantoum and the prompt can be found here. Hope I got it right!
Where you and I walk hand in hand;
The circumambient energy shifts;
Mystical aura exudes from land;
The universal vibration lifts.
The circumambient energy shifts;
As you release your final breath;
The universal vibration lifts;
In realization of your death.
As you release your final breath;
I emit a guttural moan;
In realization of your death;
I find I am all alone.
I emit a guttural moan;
For you’ve abandoned me;
I find I am all alone;
You’re in a place of mystery.
For you’ve abandoned me;
In my years of old;
You’re in a place of mystery;
And I’ll join you soon, I’m told.
In my years of old;
Mystical aura exudes from land;
And I’ll join you soon, I’m told;
Where you and I walk hand in hand.
Subsequently submitted to IJ’s Bird of the Week Invitation XVIII
Red-bellied Woodpecker with a Palm Tree berry – winter in South Florida, USA.
You are meant to wipe away the tears;
Stifle the runny nose;
Yet, just thinking of you results in violent sobs.
When I hold you in my hands;
Your cottony softness reminds me of all that I hold dear;
Your delicate embroidery threatening to unravel;
Represents all that I have lost.
I have treated you unkindly;
Tossing you aside in favor of a mere tissue.
I shall stand firm;
Recommitting myself to all that you have to offer;
As you have been there for me through all of my days;
And, I shall never again allow my nose to touch another.
What mystery lies beneath the palm frond;
and, in the gnarly branches of the tree?
I look upon them with expectation;
as surely a secret will reveal itself.
For the emotion stirred by a simple glimpse,
must have deep significance.
Can I capture it in a photograph?
It appears not.
I must just accept the mystery for what it is;
relishing my connection with the trees.
When nature calls;
Greet it with a whole heart;
Feel its presence;
Immerse yourself in its beauty;
Understand its power;
And remember your essence.
JJJ Interactive Books