Category: Poetic Bloomings

My Life as a Word Junkie

~ Candace ~ 23 Comments

My Life as a Word Junkie

 

I search them out, put them

on lists, hoard them for myself

I secret them away on scraps of

paper and keep them in rows in

the depths of old journals.

I snatch them from the pages

of books and catch them as they

tumble from the mouths of friends

and strangers. I hum them to myself

even when there is no music. I seek

their meanings in a tattered dictionary

and find their relatives between the covers

of a thesaurus. They comfort me

in the middle of the night and sooth

me during storms. Each one is unique,

perfect as it is, and sometimes I string

them together into poems.

Slow Time

~ Candace ~ 6 Comments

Slow Time

It is the slow time
The time between day
and night

The time when only cardinals
are searching for seeds
under the feeder

The time when even the trees seem
to settle and the breeze softens
The time when faint rosy smears

left by the sun remain in the sky
It is the slow time
when two hearts turn away from

the busy world
to find each other

A Goodbye Hymn

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

A Goodbye Hymn

High overhead the wild geese fly
their honking fades into the air,
a threnody, a sad goodbye

to lakes and ponds that don’t reply,
mallards and coots no longer there.
High overhead the wild geese fly

away from cold wind’s chilling sigh.
They sing a chorus of despair
a threnody, a sad goodbye.

I wave my arms, somehow I try
to call them back, but unaware,
high overhead the wild geese fly.

They call each other, pair to pair,
a melody exquisite, rare,
a threnody, a sad goodbye.

I’ll miss them, strutting smartly by –
their songs like penitential prayer,
as overhead the wild geese fly,
a threnody, a sad goodbye

Spider’s Web

~ Candace ~ 4 Comments

Spider’s Web

I leave the abandoned spider’s web,
empty and lifeless, in the corner of the back porch

an offering for the goldfinches and humming birds, which
they will use as the glue that holds their small nests together,

a shield against wind and rain when eggs hatch – protection
from harm until the hatchlings fledge

instead, I sit in a pool of morning sun and ponder love,
the spider’s web that holds a family together – safe and secure

Migration Story

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

Migration Story

They fly in a V formation, a skein
of Canada Geese, honking
joyfully as they arrive back at the
lakes and ponds where they were born.
Landing on the water, as if on water skis,
they trundle together onto land making
soft sounds in a language of their own.
They make me think of a superfluity of nuns
in their black wimples, reciting prayers
of gratitude for a safe migration.

When the Circus Came

~ Candace ~ 1 Comment

When the Circus Came

The backyard was still and quiet

No sign of bird or beast, until

she ventured out to fill the feeders

Then, as if by magic, flying,

chirping, scurrying from seed to tree –

acrobats in fur and feather,

a circus outside my window

Not Alone

~ Candace ~ 7 Comments

Not Alone

I am never really alone
Sometimes
I hear the call of geese
passing
overhead as they migrate North or South, or feel a
breeze
as it brushes the trees. They wave to me and
whisper
the secrets of the forest, of birds, of beasts,
of you

* Waltmarie Poetic Form-
10 line poem, any subject, even numbered lines are 2 syllables and form their own poem when read separately. Odd lines are longer with no specific syllable count.

A Simple Love

~ Candace ~ 2 Comments

A Simple Love

no grand romantic gestures, violins playing, red roses
from you
no heart-shaped box of milky chocolate or card sent
to me
this day is meant for simpler things
a smile
our favorite “oldies”on the radio
can take
us back to the beginning of this love affair that stole
my heart

–
Waltmarie Poetic Form-
10 line poem, any subject, even numbered lines are 2 syllables and form their own poem when read separately. Odd lines are longer with no specific syllable count.

Waltmarie Poetic Form

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

Poetic Bloomings – PROMPT #324 – JUST ONE WORD

On the Bench at Night

I sit as still as a human can –
patient
The sun has set and dusk has settled –
quiet
I try to match my breath to the gentle breeze–
calmly
Small creatures emerge from daylight hiding places –
searching
and my heart sends out a quiet message –
for you

(I changed one word of Walt Whitman’s title, On the Beach at Night, for this prompt)

Here’s another example of the form

Building a Snowman

They waited for the world to turn white –
frozen
Rolled balls of snow, bigger and bigger –
child-size
Broken twigs from the apple tree for arms, two hands –
mittens
He stood, smiling his pebble smile, until the warm sun appeared –
dripping
Then slowly disappeared, until only a memory remained –
stories

—
I may have created a new poetic form!

Waltmarie Poetic Form-
10 line poem, any subject, even numbered lines are 2 syllables and form their own poem when read separately

Only a Dream

~ Candace ~ 16 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub -MTB: endings / beginnings

Only a Dream

She dreamed of leading a big marching band,
With a shiny baton twirling in her small hands
She didn’t want drums or a horn she could toot,
instead she asked Santa for majorette boots

The white leather ones with bright tassels of red.
They’re the pair she envisioned at night, in her bed.
So she went to bed early, this good little girl,
Pulled her blanket way up so it covered her curls.

She kept her eyes closed when wind started to blow,
the rooftops and bushes soon were covered with snow.
The best winter night for dear Santa to bring
the boots that she wanted more than anything

But her letter to Santa must have lacked clear instruction.
The boots under the tree were a felt reproduction.