With the First Bite of a PB&J

I am transported back to the lunch table,
The innocence of elementary school friendships;
And the sun which now shines on me witnesses
This hit of intense nostalgia-bliss:
Taste of sticky-sweet and I am somehow free,
All else that surrounds me is extraneous.
Extracting happiness from the memory,
Sensing a stable, never-gone presence.


Good things happen when I eat lunch outside, I guess! Inspiration is found in the most random places. Linked with FOWC: Extraneous.

Blue Sky

For DVerse quadrille today, De says “the sky’s the limit!” This is also linked to FOWC: Doleful. The sky where I am today is far from doleful. 🙂 It’s a welcome change from a week or two ago.


Looking out the front window, I see sun:
The season’s listing toward September,
And the sky’s no longer filled with embers
And ashes.
Sometimes reality crashes
Into my saccharine reveries, frowns
Find my face, but blue is not doleful
Above, in that heavenly place.

Paths

This is short and simple, but I decided to share my response to FFFC #83 with the Writers’ Pantry. I tried to write something hopeful / whimsical to combat these “ominous times.” 

This is quite a magical place:
Green grass, several paths, blue sky.
Untold adventures to embrace,
As clouds are sailing way up high.

Exaltation

It’s late, but I haven’t posted today. I have written a lot about today’s feast day in the Roman Catholic Church, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. For more information, click here. This is just one of the poems inspired by that today.


Save us through Your cross, O Lord,
Toss aside our sins,
With the Spirit in our hearts
Renewal begins.
All expected facts reversed,
A curse made glorious:
Died but then risen again,
Jesus, victorious!
Splinters from this painful tree
Lead to healing, making free.

A Positive Addition

This cherita is for FDDA day 30, about our best job, and FOWC: Covered. I am also linking with today’s Writers’ Pantry.


I am covered with love, even in the memories

Of my old job, children running to hug me
Even if they hated practicing math.

Before COVID divided people from each other,
It subtracted my job, but I hope that “my kids”
Will remember me positively, even if time multiplies.

IMG_20170620_174741310
An old photo yet still good for this post

Smiles

For Ronovan’s décima challenge this week, we are remembering smiles 🙂  By the way, I’m feeling pretty happy today.


Pushed out of usual surroundings,
It takes some time to recognize
What good remains under one’s eyes,
What beautiful music still rings.

The dull ache of loss, grief, still stings:
Perhaps it is taking a while,
To find several reasons to smile.
It’s better not to overthink.
Right now, is there some joy to drink?
Even a sip, sight, not denial.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Happy Sunday! 3_22
Pancakes at my house a few months ago

Worth

This is my (late) response to Linda’s paint chip poetry week 34. I meant to respond to it yesterday, but despite this and other prompts, I had few good ideas. It appears my brain is working this morning. 🙂


I promise:

The sweetness of honey,

The sparkle of starlight —

Will not always be

Present: gates may creak

On rusty hinges rather than

Be lavishly bestowed

With lapis lazuli and precious

Stones; hills may be steep

And rocky rather than rolling.

I promise:

The worth of the journey.

Ferocious Optimism

For today’s Weekly Scribblings, we are considering our foundations. I am also sharing this with FOWC: Nothing. Special thanks to Sarah for her beautiful and life-filled poem Walking at the Edge. Although the topic is much different, I read her poem earlier today and was inspired by the life in her poem, and I felt like her poem contained a “ferocious optimism,” hence the title and inspiration for this poem.


Yes:
Every breath means she
Is not drowned underneath
New, bad news arriving daily.

Yes:
Every step means she
Has not allowed depression
To render her inert, bedridden.

Yes:
Every trembling of the Earth she
Wonders if this is the “Big One;”
Somehow there’s still a foundation.

Yes:
Every morning means she
Breathes, steps, and wonders anew
That nothing has beaten her too blue.