A place for poems and pics
she can’t let go
of papers, books,
things I think is
junk
she can’t let go
of plastic bags
single gloves and socks
worn out shoes
she can’t let go
everything has a memory
attached to it
some say she’s nuts,
a hoarder,
irresponsible
who am I to judge
—-
Just Jot It January 10th – sane
Photo by Mish
i found a friend when
i wasn’t looking
when i was in need
there was nothing
we had in common
except a love of the sea
and we sailed on
© candace kubinec
—-
Hope you’ve been finding inspiration in our Collaboration for Peace project.
Here is our third post.
You can find more about Mish here. While you’re at it stop over and visit Artists4Peace
(are you humming?)
there is a whole tiny
universe going about
the business of living –
and dying –
finding food
hooking up (blush)
defending territory
a small world that
goes unnoticed
unless you slow down,
stop to quietly observe
every summer
a small world exists
on my milkweed
—–
Jusy Jot It January 9th – title
a rose in winter
the dream of warmer days
held in a petal
—–
Carpe Diem # 893 – Fuyusobi (rose in winter)
http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspt.com
She is a rule follower
even when no one is looking
she reuses and recycles
cleans up after her dog
checks in on elderly
neighbors – she is
also elderly
she keeps her word
returns library books
on time
she’s paid her dues
in this hard life
and still she laughs
she is an honorable
woman
——
Just Jot It January 8th honorable
purple flower
opens to greet the day
morning glory
—–
Carpe Diem – Throw that pebble # 1 “dawn”
http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspt.com
I sit behind a glass
a window pane
looking out at
my barren garden
longing for sun and warmth
longing to dig in the earth
longing for green shoots
pushing always upwards
longing for blossoms
longing even to do battle
with varmints and bugs
longing for the robust
harvest that follows
a gardeners toil
—–
whimsical pirate ships
fire breathing dragons
bunnies and kittens
two lovers kissing
on a bright blue canvas
finger paintings in the sky
——-
a dole of doves
perching on a high wire
feather flutters down
in solitude I searched
for silence
– when the sun slid
above the horizon,
but heard instead the
happy chirping
of morning birds
– in the afternoon stillness
the sound of buzzing
filled the air as bees
went about their busy-ness
– as the sun gave up the day
and the dusk of evening
enveloped me,
but the breeze whispered
in the trees, rustling the leaves
– even under the gentle moon a
chorus of crickets were singing
In solitude I searched
for silence
and found peace instead
——
Tuesday Platform – the sound of silence
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com
rhymeswithbug 