And just like that, we slid in our slide-outs, hitched up the Outback, and abandoned our tranquil campsite haven to slip back through the wardrobe to a world of work and deadlines……until next weekend!
Patchwork Prose and Verse
Things that Made me Happy on the First Day of Spring
I tried a Random Word poem, inspired by Margaret Simon. I chose the book That sounds like Fun : the Joys of Being an Amateur, the Power of Falling in Love, and Why you Need a Hobby by Annie F. Downs. My five random words are in bold.
Your Life’s Table of Contents Poem
I once asked a friend named Jill how she got to be such an organized principal. “I think it was because my mother gave me all her old empty spice jars when I was little,” she replied. “I spent hours and hours organizing those jars in different ways, and so that got me thinking about organization at an early age.”
A couple of years ago, Dr, Sarah Donovan shared a thought of organizing a presentation proposal on verse in verse. That thought has not stopped spinning in my mind, and I started thinking about how I might write a table of contents organizing my poetry for the poems I have written over these past few years in verse.
Imagine you are creating a collection of your own work, and try your hand at an organizing poem today using a format like the one below to be a table of contents or any other feature of a book. In this version, for example, Chapter One would be “The Smiles, The Fears, The Laughter, The Tears.” It would contain poems coded for those themes.
Your Story
your story
the who
your life
the you
the smiles
the fears
the laughter
the tears
the reading
the school
the lessons
the rules
the truths
the dares
the risks
the prayers
the seasons
the phases
the heartaches
the praises
the family
the friends
the losses
the wins
the adventures
the chases
the journeys
the places
the people
the villains
the heroes
the champions
the daybreaks
the sunsets
the victories
the regrets
the plans
the dreams
the truths
the seems
the joys
the sorrows
the yesterdays
the tomorrows
the hurdles
the grit
the drive
the quit
the tables
the meals
the loving
the feels
the mysteries
the talks
the rides
the walks
the hobbies
the fashions
the pets
the passions
the hopes
the wonders
the worries
the blunders
the questions
the choices
the answers
the voices
the moments
the chances
the music
the dances
the living
the times
the memories
the signs
your story
the who
your life
the you
Morning Steam Fog On the Pond
On my morning drive
when the steam fog
rising off the pond
in the still air
hangs out to play tag
with the rising sun,
I’m mesmerized.
Strata of layered mists,
like stacked flat
bunk bed sheets, linger.
Steam-swirls of my
fresh-ground coffee
rise up, fleeting,
against the windshield
to glimpse other
vapors vanishing
into thin air.
The long pond grasses glistening with dew,
shallows rippling
with flitting fishes,
bring cottontails
and wading birds
to nibble at the edges
of a world
teeming with life.
I sit at the stop sign
admiring the view
until someone pulls up
behind me
urging me along.
More than I will ever see
this picture of tranquility,
I feel it deep in my soul.
Snippets of Phone Conversations on March 13
6:56 a.m. – Dad
Dad: “…just got back from our morning walk through the village, and playing off-leash in the dog park….this dog has me in training…..did you know Kona even has her own piggy bank for all the change we find?…..” ( I smile and my heart melts)
10:50 a.m. – daughter
Daughter: “Mom, you should see this Shark Ion Robot. Andrew’s parents got it for us and we named it R2D2…..It has the aura of a pet….we talk to it like it’s our dog…..does it seem strange, having petlike feelings for a vacuum?” (I chuckle, feel blessed at the miracle of my grown child)
12:55 p.m. – neighbor
Me: “Yes, we can hear the planes….No, we are not the ones flying them…..I’m so sorry the noise is disturbing you…….I’m not sure if they have to have a permit for an air show, no…..”(I shake my head and roll my eyes)
1:10 p.m. – husband
Me: “He just called me, too….yes….I told him we don’t even own a plane……,So how is the very same one who shoots an entire bucket of tannerite at random times and practices target shooting every Sunday afternoon complaining about the air show noise???…..” (I throw my hands up, like a student trying to make sense of a logical fallacy…)
I was inspired by Fran Haley yesterday to write a mirror section of her poem Listen. I started and ended with three of her words (in italics) and used her repeating word throughout. Thank you, Fran!
…Just to listen
thud of dogs diving, bed to floor
collar tags tingling, jingling
to greet the wee hour
awakening alarmless
listen
ticking toenails on wood floor,
traipsing to the water bowl
lapping, drinking beard-dripping droplets
returning to scratch the sheet by my cheek….take us outside!
listen
clicking of leashes (because…the coyotes)
crunch of frozen ground underfoot, trickling rush of fresh mountain springs
(not really – it’s Schnoodle pee pelting leaves of grass, but I can dream!)
listen
birds chirping start-of-day songs
delightful ditties
joy for the soul: Live! Breathe! Sing!
listen
heat clicking on, hot breath of house whispering warmth, clocking out soon as sun streams in for the day shift
listen
clatter of silverware clinking
kitchen kisses
love of my life swirling sugary creamer
to keep all bitterness at bay
silence, golden
dogs bedded back down
snuggled next to me on the sofa
snoozing, snoring securely after snacks
as I sit and write, thinking
how comforting it is
…..just to listen