Serenity

Along the Ottawa River

Serenity

The river flows
the path winds
the breeze whispers
the man tarries
as his bicycle rests
in the heat of the day.

For Poets United Poetry Pantry.
(I just returned from four days in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.  What a beautiful city!)

Afternoon Walk

Afternoon Walk

In
the hot
sun we strolled
the parkway path
and it seemed more like
a walk through the desert
and there was a time that I
wondered if I would be able
to make it to civilization
before fainting in quest of oasis.

I wrote this etheree for Poetry Pantry.  10 lines:  each
line has one more syllable than the one before.
(Based on my experience.  It has finally become warm,
and I really wasn't prepared for it.)

Sing

Sing


Sing
me spring
as we glide
let your voice rise
as we wing to skies
croon me your clearest trills
when we soar above the trees
until we glide out of earth sight
oh sing me spring and soar me so high
that I see the world from your lofty view

I soar on birdswings o'er valley and stream
no hill insurmountable to climb
sing me spring before it's too late
wing me high before you go
and let my heart flutter
for one final time
I swoon you croon
as we glide
abide
sing


This is an Etheree, a form Victoria introduces us to at
dVerse MTB.

True Story

True Story

And when he left school
on the snowy day
they sneaked  behind him
with hands filled with snow
which they pressed to his eyes
right before they pushed him
in a heap into a pile of snow.

For Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif - bully.

(And he never found out who
did this because by the time
he could SEE they were gone.)

Two Golden Shovel Poems Based on Sappho's Verse

A Girl

One day I watched a tender girl
picking some wild flowers.

       ---Sappho

Spring

In early spring one

must not waste the day,

and mindful of that, I 

walked the wooded path and watched,

though out of view, a 

a scene so tender:

Before my eyes a smiling girl

sat in the meadow picking

asters, bluebells, and some

fire-pink and white clover --wild

and free, both child and flowers.

Pleasure

I will lay down
the limbs of my body on soft
cushions.

           -- Sappho

Weary

So tired at the end of the day I 

am not sure what the evening will

bring when all I want is to lay

my head down

and to dream the

dreams of one whose limbs

are so weary of

trudging the path my

spent body

has forced on

me when all I want is a soft

resting place on colorful cushions.

Two "golden shovel" poems --  The last words of each line came from the words of each of the short Sappho poems & were used in order.  (Thanks, De, for introducing this form!) For Poets United Poetry Pantry.

Wonderous Birds

source

Wondrous Birds

Awake before dawn
birds chirp outside my window
a new day begins.

Wee little sparrow
fell from its comforting nest
writhes on sidewalk now.

Hawk flies above me
predator looking for prey
I keep my dogs close.

A cardinal sings
I hear it but cannot see
where you are, friend?

Hummingbird flutters
its little heart beats so fast
a very short life.

This is written for Poets United Midweek Motif where the prompt is "birds."

Beautiful Days

Beautiful Days

These beautiful spring days I

know I just couldn't 

live without hope.

Each morning I awaken to 

a new day, hasten to touch

my feet to ground to feel the

kinship with creation, look to the sky,

give thanks from deep with-

in my being for another day to live my

dream (hopeful of more than a decade or two).

In prayer I skyward raise my arms!

This is a 'golden shovel poem.'  De introduced the form for dVerse Meeting the Bar.  I am submitting it for Sunday's Poets United Poetry Pantry...hope to see you there tomorrow.  Plus as a second submission for MTB.  The idea of the form is to choose a poem and use each of the words as the end word of a line.  My chosen poem is below.  There are ten words in the poem.  Each is the last word of a line in my ten-line poem above!

World

I couldn't hope

to touch the sky

with my two arms.

       --Sappho

Dreams

In my heart I hold

beautiful stories of a life passing fast 

and on many a moonlit night I strive to 

relive them once again through dreams

Life holds so much joy for 

living every rich moment, but if

during one of my dreams

I drifted away I would not be afraid to die

though I will always hold fast to life 

Though life will not last forever there is

peace and joy in my heart looking ahead to  a

far off horizon, my spirit not broken-winged

I hope my final vision will be  a bird

a dove of hope in the distance  that

will relay that though  life in this form cannot

continue there is more angelic way to fly

This poem is written in the 'golden shovel' form introduced by De for

dVerse Meeting the Bar.    (If you read down the last

words of each line, you will be reading the first four

lines of Langston Hughes' poem "Dreams."