frozen water on
the pond children skate around
in circles, cold hands
warmed by a glowing bonfire
wind and earth rejoice
——-
Over in the imaginary gaden they’re talking about the classic elements
A place for poems and pics
frozen water on
the pond children skate around
in circles, cold hands
warmed by a glowing bonfire
wind and earth rejoice
——-
Over in the imaginary gaden they’re talking about the classic elements
It’s like the little black
dress of my culinary world
always appropriate –
breakfast, lunch, dinner,
even a midnight raid
pairs with anything –
fruit, wine, tea,
especially hot milk
easy to accessorize
sprinkles, donuts, bacon,
of course sea salt
perpetually in style –
holidays,vacations,
or just hanging at home
reading a good mystery
alone
—–
http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com
It’s the 55 Flash Challenge from hedgewitch over in the Garden.
The plus is “pairings”
I wonder
if the moon dreads the sun rise
when the party’s over and
the stars take off their
dancing shoes
moonbeams pack up
their instruments until
the next gig
the silky black curtain
is lifted and
daytime sun gives a
solo performance
there is no room for a
leftover moon
No one goes there any more
It used to be the best playground
with swings and sandboxes and
a box hockey game
The slides were shiny metal
and in the heat of summer
you could feel the burn on your
bare legs the whole way to the
bottom and after a rain you would
land in a muddy puddle
Now it is an empty lot, abandoned
for the newer, safer playground
across town that grownups drive
the kids to watching as they swing
on swings with safety harnesses
and slide down slides that stay
cool to the touch, landing on
a soft rubber surface, or climb
on engineered walls with rules
posted at the bottom
Maybe, someday, kids can
be kids again
play in the mud, swing higher
and higher, pumping their legs,
climb to the top of a rock pile
and proclaim themselves
rulers of the world
—–
this poem was prompted by Imagined by Bjorn – Time Travel
what is this thing
that sings in the darkness
that flings itself around
my heart like a golden
ring that dulls the sting
of careless words and
spiteful acts that wings
itself around this globe
to bring us face to face
to cling together linger
in the pale light of faith
mingle with a universe
alive with promise
oh gentle dove
who mourns all day
can i not whisk
your cares away
with water fresh
and bits of grain
a sturdy box
for when it rains
what saddens you
what grieves you so
in sun and shade
through wind and snow
whisper to me
the secret kept
by doves like you
who mourned and wept
in the middle of a rain storm
when the thunder and lightening clash
brightly flash
you appear, feel so near
then fade in a splash
your image smears down the pane
I’m alone again
—–
It’s Play it Again Toads! over in the Imaginary Garden
I chose “Imagined” by Kerry O’Connor – Paul Laurence Dunbar – 7 line stanza poem
in the Melancholia form
Come with me to the sea
Where ferris wheels spin lovers
To the stars and Merry-go-round
Steeds gallop around the world
We’ll dip our toes into the waves
Feed french fries to the sea gulls
Then trace each other’s lips
With cotton candy fingers
I’ll toss rings until I win
The biggest prize for you
The big black bear with a red
Ribbon tied in a bow around its neck
Let’s have our pictured snapped
In a booth, making funny faces
Smiling with goofy grins, kissing
So we will remember in old age
Follow me to the water’s edge
We’ll spread a blanket on the sand
And feast on hot dogs until dark
Then wrapped in sun-warmed arms
Dream until tomorrow comes
This poem is a spinning globe
This poem is a raindrop on a leaf
This poem is a book
–
This poem spins the world we know
making us all a little dizzy
This poem defines each country
with colors that blur together
as it spins, creating a new world
This poem is a colorful globe
–
This poem is a raindrop that sits on
a leaf waiting for the sun to embrace it
to lift it into the sky, send it away
and let it fall again in field or forest
This poem is a patient raindrop
–
This poem is a book of words
trapped between covers until opened
by some lover who sets them free
carries them like a bouquet
and bestows them on friends and strangers
This poem is a bouquet of words
–
This poem is a globe of many colors
This poem is a traveling raindrop
This poem is a book of flowers
————–
Boomerang Poem form challenge by Hannah