A winter poem for Poets United.
White fog lingering
In the air this early morning
Is as close
As we will get to snow:
It holds me closer
Than mittens or scarves
And is cold enough
To my southern-California blood —
Right now I think of
Hot chocolate, sleigh rides —
Later I will take off my coat
And drink iced tea.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Photo courtesy of, and poem prompted by, Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie
Life is an adventure,
And this is the mission:
To brave the dingy, haunted
Places, to walk into the
White fog, to brave the
Deserted highway in the rain,
Wearing an orange sweater
Amidst the pale and gray —
To pour some joy upon
Such a sad-seeming place.
Something lighthearted to muse on the topic of getting Caught….I am also sharing with DVerse OLN. Click the link to read more poems!
Nylon spider-webs strewn
Over the living-room
Table and the coffee machine,
Hanging from the TV,
Big plastic jack-o’-lantern
Smiles upon the scene:
What a delight to be
Caught in the festivities —
For Poets United Midweek Motif. I chose to write about remembering the dead.
How generous the dead are,
With the way they so often haunt
Both memories and dreams:
I think of my maternal grandmother
And my high-school friend —
You were cremated
Body became ashes but memories
Remained. If you had a grave,
I would visit it and pray
“ Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine” *The sentiment lives, and you visit me.
* This is the beginning of a prayer for the dead, in Latin. More info
I am a little too late for this prompt at DVerse, about telling a story through the senses, but here is my poem. It also fits with this (I think).
She heard laughter.
Through the tears
She heard laughter.
She felt dreams solidifying.
She felt a smile
Curl her lips upwards.
She felt fingers
Clacking on a computer keyboard
Posting a poem
(Was she a writer?)
Sometime in the future.
The future wasn’t nothing.
She heard the voice
Of a poet, leader,
Whispering — encouraging.
This poem was inspired by these prompts: about the positive side of change and about astonishment and wonder.
What she thought was the end of the world,
When she thought she was unlovable
Because she seemed unappreciated
By someone whose love she had wanted —
What she thought was rock bottom,
Was precisely the solid ground she needed
To stand at last on her own feet,
To rebuild, and find astonishment at the new life
She is leading, which she didn’t know she wanted.
For DVerse Poetics, the prompt is majesty.
The pen can hold power.
The pen can describe the world’s wonders.
The pen can inspire like a bright star.
The pen can cause people to rise
Against dynasties which had towered
As societal mountains.
Centuries of echoes are heard,
But behold the dynamite of the written word.