For DVerse Poetics “Flights of Fancy” and inspired by something I saw in my family’s garden yesterday.
The finch perches
On the back of a sunflower,
As she awaits her turn
At the filled feeder:
She finds her chance
And when she flies
The flower dances springily back,
In true sunflower fashion;
The finch uses the free
Surplus of birdseed
To fuel more of her
Flight and avian dreams.
A short story-poem for FOWC: Pergola, a word which I had to look up, so if I used it wrongly, that is why.
Under the beautiful pergola,
With vines entwining, lives entwining
We made our vows of lasting love:
White trelliswork and roses witnessed
Our kiss, our happiness that day.
We said “I do” and still do today.
This quadrille is for Quadrille Monday at DVerse and also fits with FOWC: Epic.
A life need not be epic,
It need not even be long,
To know that it has purpose,
To know that it belongs.
It may be full of brambles,
Pain amidst the little fruits:
Have faith that while it ambles,
Its dignity is absolute.
For Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry #30 and also shared with the Writers’ Pantry
Life was a delightful potpourri:
The euphoria of even a penny on the sidewalk
Amazing, ten dollars in a birthday card.
Depth of exploration in our back yard
Rocks, bugs, dirt and the occasional lazy lizard.
Uncoordinated me loved to dance, felt free
As a ballerina in magical pink,
I floated since no one told me I should sink.
For Frank J. Tassone’s haikai prompt, “summer meadow.”
Throughout summer’s day
Three hundred sixty degrees:
Sunflowers look ’round
Shared with the Writers’ Pantry this week. Magaly talks about keeping a sense of hope, and I wrote this even before reading that.
You are slowly opening:
Hope in nature’s bloom,
Showing what it is to wait,
And to give growth room.
Yellow petals reaching out,
Pretty little flower,
Like a set of open hands
With surprising power.
Captivating littleness,
Sowing seeds of your greatness.
A first-person narrative for DVerse. We are almost out of time to link up, but read others here.
Friday afternoon I am taking in
The whir of the gardener’s lawn mower.
The aroma released from the freshly-cut grass.
The sun smiling on my eager face
The reward of slightly-achy legs,
As I walk home from the library,
Which is now closed indefinitely.
This week’s haikai challenge from Frank J. Tassone is “smoldering hot (moyuru)” . I wrote a few, and these are the 2 that I like best.
Impatient protests:
Unfriendly sun already —
Air conditioning
Heat steals my water —
Pastor’s homily about
Being fertile soil
For the Writers’ Pantry, here is a quatrain that I wrote 2 days ago after spending some time in my back yard.
She stares transfixed at the garden full of life,
She, full of feelings mixed, childlike delight
Planted between pressures of grave responsibility —
Yet the silent butterflies seem to speak prophecy.
A cherita in response to Fandango’s flash fiction challenge #69. The photo is below.
This hideaway is hidden amidst the greenery:
Embraced by nature, nestled in the hillside,
A wonderful place for a quiet escape.
A person could hide there and no one would
Find him — if it weren’t for the sky-blue door,
Making attempts at camouflage irrelevant.
