Author: Candace

I am a reader, a writer, and a snapper of photos

A Cherita

~ Candace ~ 5 Comments

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #17 Out of The Carpe Diem Box …

 

A new form, for me, a Cherita using the theme Winter Time

Cherita (pronounced CHAIR-rita) is a linked poetry form of one-, two-, and three-line stanzas.
Cherita is the Malay word for “story” or “tale”.

Here’s my attempt
~
Snow fell steadily overnight

Morning sun shines
On fields of white

Tracks cross from woods to road
Left behind by white tailed deer
Foraging for food

Power of Words

~ Candace ~ 11 Comments

Weekend Mini-Challenge: Art with Me
We’re writing about words in the Garden  this weekend

~

Power of Words

 

These words can be super heroes
Throwing you a lifeline
When you are drowning
Talking you down off that ledge

Picking you up when you’re
Too tired to go on –
Or maybe villains
Laughing at your sorrow

Tripping you in the dark
Stalking you when you try to run
They can be a warm companion on a cold day
Curled up beside you

Snuggled under an afghan
Sharing a cup of tea –
Or maybe your worst nightmare
Chasing you through your dreams

Until you scream out loud
These words can bring healing
Like a hug from a friend or
A day in the sunshine

These words have powers
Handle with care

 

Extraordinary Birthday

~ Candace ~ 32 Comments

Get Listed: Landslide Month

Reflecting on celebrations and milestones in the Garden

Also posted at d’Verse  poets for Open Link Night

—-
Extraordinary Birthday

I sit here, feet up,
With a cup of tea
Just reflecting on the
Little things that become special
Little things like a wolf puppet
Who came to life two years ago
When a rebellious three year-old
Refused to take her vitamins
And the wolf (who shall be
Named Wolfie Scalliwag) spoke
Up and said, “ I don’t think you are
Behaving.” And that sweet child paused,
Then readily took those vitamins
Every year we celebrate that day –
Wolfie’s birthday
And I wonder, as the years unfold,
How many birthdays we’ll celebrate
Until the child is no longer charmed
By Wolfie Scalliwag – wolf puppet
Extraordinaire

 

A Healing Garden

~ Candace ~ 2 Comments

 

D’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics with poisonous plants

—
A Healing Garden

 

I will purge my pretty garden of
its foxglove poison
Plow under the toxic nightshade and
noxious belladonna
Take a hatchet to the deadly hemlock
Rip out the baneful wolfsbane
and let my garden heal itself with fields
Of golden dandelion, mallows, yarrow
And St John’s Wort

Remember Me

~ Candace ~ 8 Comments

Poetic Asides – Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 424

Write a ‘sick’ poem

–
Remember Me

 

I get a funny feeling deep
In my tummy – or is it
My heart – not quite sick
More forlorn, whenever I
Click the box ‘remember me’
On an online form
It’s kind of like the feeling I
Get whenever I think about
Fun we had and how we laughed
Until tears ran down
Our cheeks – then someone
Snorted and we laughed
Even harder and how
I wish there had been a box
For me to check
On your heart that said
‘remember me’

Handwritten

~ Candace ~ 21 Comments

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Handwritten

I love the graceful feel of my
Pen gliding, looping
Across a blank page
Curls and twirls of ink which
Are as much me as the
Green of my eyes or
The birthmark on my thigh
I love the smudge of blue on my fingers
When the final letter has been formed
Leaving behind a trail of inky words
Words that belong to only me

 

—
Posed on Tuesday Platform at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
Today is National Handwriting Day – who knew?

No Longer Kings

~ Candace ~ 12 Comments

Poetics: Bold Tributes

“The five kings count the dead but do not soften
The crusted wound nor pat the brow;”
⁃ Dylan Thomas
from, ‘The Hand That Signed the Paper Felled a City’

 

No Longer Kings

 

When I asked about ‘the five kings’ they said
‘count the dead’ and then come back
so, I go quietly out ‘but do not’ look for
dead to count, instead I find a way to ‘soften
the crusted wound’ upon this fragile land
a song to sing to bless the ones who sacrifice
a word to mend the tear dividing brothers
not just to sooth the flame ‘nor pat the brow’
but open eyes and hearts and minds
a prayer that kings will leave their thrones
and we no longer need to count our dead