NaPoWriMo – Day 24

I enjoyed writing yesterday’s haiku so much that it felt like time to write another.

Songs of Joy

Bird song trills outside

Reminding me that life’s good

Thank you feathered friends.

NaPoWriMo – Day 22 ~ Earth Day

The prompt at NaPoWriMo today is to write a poem in honor of Earth Day.

How fitting it is that at least here in my town, you are crying on your day, Mother Earth

What we’ve done to you is sorrowful indeed, corrupting you daily with our greed

On days such as this, when the gentle rain quietly washes the city’s streets clean

And washes the dust from the buds and blossoms of Spring

It is easy to see your beauty-the way you glisten in a rainy day’s stillness

With little more sound than birdsong filling normally bustling sidewalks

This heart fills with the wish that those who inhabit you will care for you better

Humanity seems to have a notion that your perfection can be improved upon

With the creation of chemicals which attempt to recreate what you already provide

Or engineering life itself with profits in mind, resulting in death and destruction

I cry with you beautiful Mother, while I hold out hope that it isn’t too late

That perhaps we can nurture you back to health by caring for you as you have for us

Why can’t they understand that when they destroy you, they destroy themselves?

 

 

#NaPoWriMo – Day 21 ~ Minor Character

The prompt for today from NaPoWriMo is to write a poem in the voice of a minor character from a fairy tale or myth. I’ll be writing this from the perspective of Mrs. Oliver the owl from “Georgie the Ghost” by Robert Bright. This was one of my favorite stories when I was a little girl. In doing a little research on the book tonight, I discovered that there is an entire series! The fact that I am a woman in her 40’s does not stop me from wanting them all.

Last night when I woke, the moon was almost over the lightening horizon

Where in the world is Georgie? His creaking on the stairs is my alarm clock

Each night he has always awakened me-since I was still in mother’s nest

Landing on the attic windowsill, I look through the dusty glass

Only seeing cobwebs and old trunks stuffed with old clothes

Floating down the low branch of the gnarled oak to peek into the parlor

The only soul to be found, living or dead,  is the old orange cat

Taking off, going silently higher into the sky, I call out for my friend

It won’t be long until the night is over-I must find him

Three fields over, his familiar glow catches my eye

Swooping low to greet him, I can hear his mournful cries

He looked at me with such angst in his eyes

That I would have feared him, had I not known him

It seems Mr. Whittaker had nailed down the noisy step

As it annoyed him and his wife as they slept

The man has no idea what he’s done with his seemingly simple act

It may be his house, but he’s upset the entire system

Without that creak, the home will be overrun by the rats

Who sneakily creep through the shadows trying to hide from me

Once I get my friend to stop his mournful crying we hatch a plan

Running out of time, we rush back home to set things right

Georgie gathers the strength to open the window, letting me in

That nail on the stairs is no match for my strong beak

Just as the sun rises, I clasp the entire box of nails in my talons

Rushing them to the hole in my tree for safe keeping

Mr. Whittaker has hammered his last nail in those stairs

Just before I drifted off to sleep, I heard Georgie’s voice

Quietly thanking me for helping him to stay in his beloved home

Silly ghost has no idea how much we all need him here

To maintain order in our little corner of the woods.

 

 

#NaPoWriMo – Day 20 ~ #Kennings Poem

The prompt today at NaPoWriMo is to write a Kennings Poem. A basic description, is that a two word metaphor be used for something instead of coming out and naming it. Please click on their link to learn more about this type of poem.

Taking time out to rest today

Going to savor some peace and quiet

Hanging with my flame sticks and word bricks

Lounging in sleeping pants with an energy pebble in my hand

The highlight will be standing under the indoor rain

Luxuriating in the delicious scent of the cleaning bar

That was inspired by a horror movie, but smells like heaven

You can expect my re-entry into the world sometime tomorrow

Until then, I’ll be in my faux tree house snuggled into a nest of pillows

Enjoying some long overdue solitude in my own little world.

 

 

#NaPoWriMo – Day 19 ~ #Didactic

Today’s prompt at NaPoWriMo is to write a didactic, or how-to poem. I’m going for the off the wall angle on this one. I do not typically rhyme poetry, but for some reason decided to this time.

How To Lasso A Rainbow

To lasso a rainbow is easier than it seems

Simply open your heart and believe in your dreams

Pick your favorite color and throw your rope high

Nothing’s off limits when you reach for the sky 

If your choice happens to be red, go for it with passion

When orange is your pick, you may wish to proceed in a more orderly fashion

Yellow it will be for some, they should keep their disposition sunny

Those chasing green should think sweet, healing honey

Blue, dreamy blue calls for peace and tranquility

While elusive indigo practically calls for psychic abilities

Magical violet calls for sweetness and light

At times it seems impossible, yet seek it you must with all of your might

Such beauty is always worth the trials of the quest

Never give up on the vision or fear the test

When you manage to get hold of it, pull it near

Hold it close to your heart, forever dear.

#NaPoWriMo – Day 18 ~ #Sound of Home

Today’s prompt at NaPoWriMo is to write a poem with the sounds of home-the ways of speech and particular phrases that take you back in time.

As pap-pap took me by the hand, we crossed the road and stepped onto the dusty lane

Leading through the field of tall wildflowers which nodded a friendly hello in the breeze

There were days that we went there to fly one of his handmade kites, but not today

On this day which was hotter than a firecracker, we were headed to the crick to play

As we made our way down the slope leading to the water, pap-pap slid in the mud

I watched the scene play out as if it were in slow motion, with him going down

Into the water he splooshed with a wet thud, sitting in the shallow water for a minute

Before pushing himself up out of the muck muttering, son-ah-mah-bitch

He noticed the horrified look on my face and burst out laughing

In that deep, hearty belly laugh of his that could make the whole world laugh along

We swam and skipped rocks for hours, both of us playing like the child that I was

Avoiding the mud puppies that hid in their slimy lairs beneath the rocks at the edge

Finally we got out of the water and dug greens on the way back through the field

Later we’d be feasting on dandelions and wild beet greens with pap-pap’s polenta

The sauce with plump Italian sausages had been simmering all day

Handing the bag of greens of to mom, she took one look at my feet and said

Yoy-shish-ah-mahdia dirty fergie, if you even think of sitting at that table

I’ll pucky your goozie-get back outside and hose off those feet, then get in the shower

Later, we all gathered around the table slathering butter on fresh, hot bread

Feasting on so many greens that mom’s lips turned white from the vinegar

The grown-ups drinking glasses of deep red wine, while I sipped cherry Kool-Aid

The evening wound to an end with all of us on the porch serenaded by cricket song.