Once in a blue moon you might find someone who is truly yours
Though it may take a lifetime to truly know
Volcanic eruptions release hot lava
We wait to see signs of obsidian stone
Or will we turn to slate from years of ash
Where immense heat and pressure clash
Pollen spreads more than love’s desire
Swollen, itchy eyes dampen the fire
What can one learn from a babbling brook
To have courage, find humor—
Laughing over rocks all the day
And know if that one is not truly yours
You still belong to the Lord
Oh yes, yours, truly.
Linda Kruschke and Paint Chip Poetry
This week we’re writing about Yours Truly. Which doesn’t mean you have to write about me, but you could. Or you could write a letter to someone and sign it Yours Truly. Letter poems can be fun. Let your imagination and creativity run wild with this one.
The paint chip words to include are blue moon, hot lava, babbling brook, and pollen. The angel card words are courage, harmony, and humour (these must be British or Canadian angels). I’m leaving it wide open for how many of these words you want to use. Use them all or just pick one.
The eagle flies alone and cuts through the wind
He soars above the storm and stares at the sun
The butterfly finds rest in a sheltered space
When the air is calm he resumes his pace
Salmon swim upstream to spawn
His entire life an upward battle home
For future increase of his own
He fears not the current’s force
A million causes my mind detects
To articulate in eloquent dialect
How better when I stand my ground
And not succumb to haunting sounds
Sometimes its when the voice is stilled
We learn how vehement words can kill
You won’t see me at the protest marches
Rioting or throwing torches
But be assured I fight the fight
On my knees as I face the light
Give mercy and if they don’t like what I say
They’ll know I protest when I walk the other way
Dversepoets.com Write a protest poem. Maybe a little different than what you expected. Wrote a couple of rants, and then when I got it all out….
I am a plant
A seed hidden deep
My roots spread
Intertwine with chaos…and hungry
Random and unseen
Fruit blooms in its season
Winter is long
Dversepoets.com Four images to inspire a poem. I chose the one above. Titles are removed so as to inspire your imagination.
You may write an ekphrastic poem in the purest sense, describing the image; or you may simply be motivated by the image and, letting it stir your imagination, write a poem that in some way, connects to the image. by Catrin Welz Stein.
Write a poem motivated by one of Catrin Welz-Stein’s images. Include the image in your post. Be sure to give credit to Ms. Welz-Stein and embed or include her website as well: http://catrin-stein.imagekind.com/store/
I see the majesty of the eagle
While he sees the inspiration of the sky
I marvel at his grace and wingspan
He needs no audience to fly
My feet are earthbound as long
As I stare beneath and sigh
I too…have sky
dversepoets.com Quadrille Monday and the word is sky. Exactly 44 words excluding the title.
Image by Unsplash
Color seeks a blank canvas
My brown eyes see green flash(es)
They beckon–go, loosen your dreams!
Soft and warmed words
Can now be fresh-squeezed
Flavoring any grand plan
The serpent beguiled Eve
Not tongue-tied but fork-tongued
No warning of aimless tumbleweeds
Driven by the wind under scorching sun
Or of the rainstorm sure to come
Where all safe were under the sea
But a grand plan
Before time ever began
Provided hope for man
Everything else paints hues of lust
And like the serpent
Will feed on dust
Linda Krutschke Paint Chip Poetry offers some very eclectic word choices for this week.
For this week’s challenge we are writing about a Grand Plan. It could be something you have planned for the future. It could be an account of some villain’s nefarious grand plan. Or you could write about a grand plan that didn’t quite turn out. The sky’s the limit with this one.
Although, I suppose, you are limited by these odd paint chip words and phrases: fresh-squeezed, tongue-tied, green flash, rainstorm, blank canvas, tumbleweed, and under the sea. Because they are a weird conglomeration of words, I’m only going to ask you to use three. But bonus points if your plan is to use them all and you succeed.
I read faceless words
Voices of the past echo
Seasons turn a page
ddversepoets.com open link Thursday. Many met live through the airways and I could not. Thought of how it would be nice to put faces to words. So I wrote a haiku about all the words we read of those we will never meet.
Hope you like it.
It seems as though you are still summer
Though feeders now have empty chairs
And flowers sleep later still
And turn with evening’s chill
You cling tight to life
Death at the door
This is a third nine-line poem. I realized after the first, I did not follow the directions completely.
Once again I lingered in the night
I wake to an unwelcome guest
Summer’s aged hand strokes me
She is saying good-bye
Prepare now before
I slip away
Those deep hues called me out as I dove in unaware of the ocean’s depth
Pale and nearsighted, waters stole my breath
Flowers in winter cocoon in seed buried deep
Might I loosen my lungs, will I drown
Still I scour, breathless
Have I labored all only to lose precious
Time searching what is below the surface
To what purpose has a long winter if no
Fruit blossoms in spring
dversepoets.com The challenge was a choice of two. I decided to try both. I am on a break. Can you tell?
Prompt 1: Write NINE-LINE VERSE(S), taking ONE of the following lines so that each consecutive word becomes the start of the next line of your poem. Keep the word order and repeat the pattern for more verses.
- Those/ pale /flowers /might /still /have/ time/ to /fruit (cite Borowicz)
- Summer/ is /leaving/ too/ exchanging/ its/ gold/ for brass (cite Lawrenson)
- West/ mountains/ erased/ with/ azure/ into/ Spring/cool/ nights (cite Murray)
Prompt 2. For those who like a syllabic challenge, I invite you to write a NONET – a nine line poem that begins with 9 syllables, descending line by line to 1 syllable.
Select ONE of these 9 syllable lines as your opener (or more if you wish to write several nonets)
“Another night lost to the light of the sun.” she cried.
“Don’t you mean the moon?”
“The moon has no light of its own. It is by reason of the sun you see her magnificence. That is what I learned, anyways. I wish to keep it. It makes sense that another should be responsible to proclaim ones brilliance. It lessens the angst. Maybe that is why moon has no fear of falling. At least from here I see no tremble.”
“Then why your restless night?
“Insomnia creeps silently, and consumes ever crumb of sleep. There is no trail to pick up what is eaten. But I will fare well, for now the sun is bright upon all who endure the night, and one by one as they all recover, in their dreams they sleep with the moon.
Now, what better reason for coffee?
Dversepoets.com Time for prosery. A line from a famous poem incorporated into my own prose. No more than 144 words. Mine is exactly 144 words including the title.
The line is “in their dreams they sleep with the moon.”
Mary Oliver “Death at Wind River”
I am on a break. Can’t you tell?
Some now call me old
The toddler and the teen
The aged call me young
I’m caught in between
Aim at verdant fields
While candlelight flickers
Bending shadows as it steals
Blessings where I stand
Lessons learned are mercy’s trade
The grass is always greener
Until you see each blade
Like a spice market filled with flavors
The best aromas swell with age
I can’t rush or impair the process
So I let grace escort me there
Linda Kruschke and Paint Chip Poetry.
The theme for this week is When I’m Old. Some of you reading and joining in on the prompt may already be there so this will be easy. Others of us are well on our way, and some may be young still and have to use their imagination to respond to the prompt.
The words or phrases for this week are wild huckleberry, cumulonimbus, verdant, spice market, antique brass, the grass is always greener, and candlelight. I think we have our longest paint chip phrase ever this week and so as part of the challenge I’d like you to be sure to use that one plus at least three more in your poem. And while I could use some humor or cheering up, I won’t hold it against you if your poem takes a somber tone.
This may be my last submission for a few weeks.