Slow Time

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

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

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

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.

Amid Chaos

PAD 14 – from where I’m sitting

Amid Chaos

The morning sun slants through the kitchen window where
I sit,
surrounded by the lacey pattern the shadows make on the the wall.
Amid
the calmness of morning bird calls, Bach, and tea there is
chaos
at the bird feeder. Finches and sparrows battling for position, not
waiting
their turn – for theirs is a battle of survival not a negotiation
for peace.

waltmarie poetic form

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-april-pad-challenge-day-14

Not Alone

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

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.

Only a Dream

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.

Timeless Shockwaves

Timeless Shockwaves – a Tri-Fall

two black holes collided
combining
into one, sending waves
that have not subsided
aligning
energy to each other gave

and seven billion years
across space
the hum of this union is real
ripples like souvenirs
a slight trace
to touch this world, wonders reveal

just like black holes our hearts
converging
together become a single beat
not one, but counterparts
emerging
humming with synergy and heat

(I read a news article about two black holes that merged over seven billion years ago. The shockwaves just reached Earth last year. I was determined to use these black holes in a poem.)