For MLMM’s Tale Weaver: Shirt. This is based on truth.
A favorite shirt outgrown:
Pretty pastel purple and blue,
With a rosette on the left shoulder,
She is unhappy but it is true:
She is getting older.
She thinks it looks so beautiful,
To let it go seems awful,
But the 9-year-old child knows
It has become too small for her.
Linda Kruschke has another paint-chip poetry prompt this week. It is a bit different this time:
I’m not sure if I like how this turned out, but here is my (first) attempt.
Isn’t gratitude something mystical?
It turns key limes into a pie,
It creates a banana split
From one humble fruit —
Tenderly-watered seeds
Bloom into Grandma’s hydrangeas:
Not every flower is showy
Yet they make a beautiful whole,
Isn’t gratitude something mystical
Running in the family of hope?
This is for MLMM’s Tale Weaver prompt and this week’s décima challenge, where we are supposed to use the word “wind” in the B rhyme spot. Follow the links for more info!
The close of day is no dead end:
Though the path out may wend and wind,
The pinkish dawn is ripe to find
A better way, and hope, to tend.
The close of day is wont to send
Symbolic messages of fear;
Ignore that siren-song and steer
Away from treacherous creatures.
Nightmares to dreams: morning features
New rosiness of life to cheer.
I was thinking about the “Our Father” prayer and wrote this.
Give us this day
Gratitude for simply living.
Give us this day
The grace to walk the narrow way
Aright; and to assuage pain’s sting,
A heart of generous giving
Give us, this day.
As the seconds tick, quickly,
Are we a cog in the machinery?
Is the meaning of all this visible?
Is finding meaning, simply risible?
Look at those Roman numerals —
We recognize these symbols
Of an empire once great,
No longer such a powerful state.
Note: This is for Paula Light’s Thursday Inspiration #62, for which she gives us the word time and the picture above. Also, I do not believe that finding meaning is “risible.” In fact, I believe that finding meaning is among the most important things in life.
A silly little quatrain for FOWC: Cranky
There blares an early alarm,
To rouse from comfy bed so warm,
There barges in a cranky mood —
Coffee will fix it, and make it good!
For this haikai prompt. In many cultures, the summer solstice is not the beginning of summer, but it is “midsummer.”
You were not aware
Midsummer on the solstice
Not the beginning
Classification varies;
An event remains itself
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.
We are writing haikai with the summer or winter kigo (depending on our hemisphere) of our choice.
Mosquito picnic:
Lengthening days invaded
Pesky bloodsuckers
It is already the tenth décima challenge from Ronovan, and this is my offering.
The world today’s a messy place:
It seems impossible to clean,
So in the rubble we must glean
Glinting sunlight learn to embrace.
Now at a dizzying pace
Confusion makes more mess: often
We think it’s figured out, and then
Does anything make any sense?
We know there will be recompense
But we are impatient for when.
