Posted in Poetic Asides, poetry

When I’m Gone

Poetic Asides – Wednesday Poetry Prompt

Golden Shovel -using the first line, “a child on a silver bicycle”, from Billy Collins’ poem Traffic

~

When I’m Gone

what will happen to my things? a
box of toys from when I was a child
my grandmother’s clock that sat on
her mantle, mother’s jewelry in a
box made of silver
and my old blue bicycle

Posted in Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, poetry

Remembering

FASHION ME YOUR WORDS ~ The way you see it

We’re taking a second look at favorite poems in the Garden
I love Billy Collins and his poem Forgetfulness is one of many that I read over and over again


Remembering

I don’t worry about forgetting names or dates
I have calendar squares filled with them
wars and generals will not clutter my mind
and maps hold the place of cities, towns, countries
love poems reside in books where I can visit
anytime I feel the need to swoon
recipes, phone numbers, passwords
all written down on paper and flushed
out of my brain – they take up too much room
space that I need for the important things
the sound of your voice,
the feel of your hand in mine,
the way your eyes smile at me

the beat of your heart when we kiss

Posted in Uncategorized

Dogwood

d’Verse Meeting the Bar – Golden Shovel

“For one thing there is no snow”
Billy Collins  Report from the Subtropics

~~

I must thank the neighbors for
planting that tree, just one
that in the spring is a thing
most glorious a sign of hope there
among the evergreens it is
blooming white and shouts “no
longer are we bound by snow”

Posted in Uncategorized

Memorizing You

At Real Toadswe’re Under an Influence for the Weekend-Mini
I used Memorizing “The Sun Rising” by John Donne, by Billy Collins as my inspiration

~
i tried to memorize
your eyes
your nose
your mouth

so that when you
were gone
(or maybe i)
the image would remain

i tried to remember
the feel of
your skin
your hair

your breath on my neck
so that when you
went away
(or maybe i)

some sense of you would remain
now here, alone, they fade but
from the next room
from the next town

your image
your touch
are the beats of my heart
that i call love