Author: Candace

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

I Waited

~ Candace ~ 22 Comments

I waited alone in my
room all night long
I twiddled my thumbs
I hummed an old song

I wrote a short story
a sonnet or two,
a limerick, acrostic,
free verse and haiku

I ate a stale cookie
maybe two or three
I went to the kitchen
and brewed up some tea

I tried playing cards
and my favorite board game
but all by myself
they were actually quite lame

I stared out the window
at a dark inky sky
Not even a star
twinkled back in reply

I waited all night
for that soft glowing face
I suppose the old moon
must be lost out in space

—-

Over at d’Verse Meeting the Bar, Victoria is asking “Me, Myself and I …or is it?’
The challenge is to write a poem in the first person

Sideways (in)to Heaven

~ Candace ~ 3 Comments

 

the line at the main entrance
was way too long
so she picked up her back pack
and tucked in her wings
to look for another way in
she tapped at a window
but got no response
the line in the back
wasn’t as long but she
didn’t have a backstage pass
she turned the corner
and there she saw a
small door covered
by vines and guarded
by doves
in her pocket she felt
crumbs from her
last blueberry scone
placing them like an offering
on the ground
the doves granted her entrance
and she slipped sideways
into heaven

—–

posted at Poetic Asides Wednesday Poetry Prompt – “(blank) ways to (blank)”

Collaboration for Peace – 9

~ Candace ~ 1 Comment

Mish and I are happy to bring you another collaboration

——-

image.jpeg

(photo: Candace Kubinec)

Universal
We may not see

Scars and bruises

Heartaches hidden deep

Or know the twisted roots

Of troubled minds

Understanding takes time

But we can feel the rain

Of a thousand fears

Streaming down faces

In faraway places

We have never been

We can start here because

Tears are universal

(c) Mish

From the Flowers

~ Candace ~ 18 Comments

image

(painting by Stanley Spencer)

In your hubris you
think I bloom for only you
that I exist to
color your world
perfume your air
You are so bold to
pluck me from my
roots, bundle me,
present me as
a gift from you
But I bloom for
myself alone
even the birds and
the bees do not
own me
My scent and hue
are secrets you
can never know
though you may try
I am a world unto
myself
and I hold the universe
in a single seed

—

Mag 306 is this panting of Christ in the Wilderness by Stanely Spencer