#VerseLove Day 30 with Dr. Sarah J. Donovan of Oklahoma – Congratulating VerseLovers!

Today, Dr. Sarah Donovan, founder of Ethicalela.com, is our host for the last day of VerseLove 2025. She inspires us with several prompt options, which you can read here. I chose to take a line from each host’s poem throughout the 30 days, in order, to create a new poem. I took the last line from my poem on the day that I hosted to become the title. Poets’ names are in the order in which their line appears under the poem.

Even Now

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love

a new leaf

our friendship remains

wind whips snow and rain and sleet, stinging our smiling faces

older now, but happy

I am from green sticker grass, speckled with dandelions

twining vines together to be held in the right places

a lullaby for what cannot be undone

you might have ooh’d and aaw’d

to keep the memories

unraveling

to write the tears and cry into absence that hope might

taking me to a different time and place

let us walk in the woods

a truer friend is hard to find, so kind

there will be joy in the morning

mind drifting under periwinkle sky

something like the snowballs we wished to have

knowing we will someday die

nor think the illusion a mirage

warm and bittersweet

everything is ghastly white –

all a reminder that newness brings life

secretly embracing

that this wasn’t really

like my thoughts

in the midst of the storm, it can be hard to see clear

into life’s unknown

and still, I hold onto hope

A huge hug and thank you to these host poets with borrowed lines, in order:

Jennifer, Leilya, Denise, Dave, Bryan, Stacey, Erica, Darius, Britt, Joanne, Kate, Sarah, Padma, Brittany, Katrina, Angie, Tammi, Jordan, Susan, Glenda, Margaret, Barb, Larin, Ashley, Scott, Alexis, Donnetta, Stefani, Sarah/Maureen

A Found Poem: Ghost Spells

Photo by Susan Flores on Pexels.com

Sometimes I like to take a stack of books and search for lines that speak to me to create found poems in random order to see if they make sense – kind of like a scavenger hunt. I used the following books and found 4 ten-syllable lines broken into five syllables with line breaks, in this order:

The Lost Spells by Robert McFarlane and Jackie Morris

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin

James by Percival Everett

North Woods by Daniel Mason

Ghost Spells

the world is sudden

with wonder again

we can go over

the new winter list

I’m sorry to have

barged into your home~

how affectionate

I feel for my ghosts

Open Write Day 5 : Naani Poems with Leilya Pitre of Louisiana – Stafford Challenge Day 8

Our host today for the fifth day of January’s Open Write at www.ethicalela.com is Dr. Leilya Pitre of Louisiana, who inspires us to write Naani poems. Nanni poems are 4 lines of any topic, with 20-25 syllables. She challenged us to look to the texts on our phones to find a poem. 

Naani Goat

William the goat 

      was a character.

The Sapelo cabin is a story.

The fireplace remains.

September 2023 Poetry Marathon Day 1 of 5

Today, Stacey Joy of California is our host for the September Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She is inspiring us to write odes today. I took inspiration from her poem and from Amy Van DerWater’s Dear Socks in writing an ode to the memories of my mother through the ways she still comes to me when I am missing her.

From Saturday through Wednesday, I will post the daily writing along with several other poems that were written during the poetry marathon I began yesterday morning at 8:00 a.m.. It ends at 8:00 this morning, and will contain one poem written each hour since then either by a friend/family member or by me. (Okay, I slept the night, but I wrote ahead and behind those hours of sleep because…..my meanness might have kicked in).

I’ll begin with today’s poem, written in the 6 a.m. hour, September 16, 2023: ODE – a poem of praise, often written directly to someone or something.

Memories of Miriam ~ An Ode – a poem of praise, often directly to a person or object

Dear Mom,
you come to me
in the missing
with tingly spots that
turn warm
in the heart,
help me exhale~ my
fingers circling my temples
bringing back
all the whens

of this Bernina
your fingers guiding
mine under the
foot, stitch by stitch
learning to sew
a lime green terrycloth
bathcover, now
sewing quilts
for your great grands
on your fine
Swiss machine

of hawks,
talons clutching wires
checking that
my seatbelt
is fastened
as I drive past,
shaking your pointing finger
if I forgot,
knowing that
whatever I’m
thinking at
that moment,
you’re there
in it

of strawberry figs,
last summer wave
just picked, my own
weakening fingers twisting
tender fruits free ~
canned this very
week, Mason jars
sealed tight
with summer’s
sweetened warmth
for coming winter

of spiced Russian tea,
the Tangy orange
and lemonade mixed
with clove, sugar
cinnamon and tea ~
a medicinal brush
of your invisible fingers
through my hair
in sore throat season

of rippled milkglass
with resurrection fern
springing to life
unfurling its brown
dry fingers
into open arms
green again

September 15, 2023 – The Kickoff – 8 a.m. hour – Kim Johnson

Haiku – a poem with three lines and seventeen syllables in 5/7/5 syllabicated lines

My Stir Stick

deep in the forest

a tiny tree takes root

reaches to sunlight

growing tall, falling

with a thud, destined to be

my coffee stir stick

September 15, 2023 – 9 a.m. hour – my son Marshall Meyer – Gogyoshi (a 5-line poem on any topic, and Marshall wrote two back to back gogyoshis, connected, about a recent fishing experience….and he wrote this within a half hour of when I requested a poem, which is what a poetry marathon experience is about – – birthing poetry meaningfully in a few intentional moments throughout the day). I’m so proud of him!

The experience is like no

other. The stalk and hunt is

on, wind and direction

matter. I’m in shin deep

water and the reds can feel

all vibrations.

Concentration is at an all

time high. Cast. The feel of

the exploding strike is like 

no other. 

September 15, 2023 – 10 a.m. hour – Found Poem by Kim Johnson – a Found Poem is a poem that is written by finding words on an existing page of print, lifting them out to stand alone as a poem.  This one is taken from The Outsiders.

A Silent Moment

dawn mist

golden

gray to pink

a silent moment:

paint,

fresh in my mind,

like

nature’s flower; 

down to day…

nothing can stay

September 15, 2023 – 11 a.m. hour – Jenga Poem – Kim Johnson

I let my son’s 9:00 poem inspire a title I found on a Jenga block and wrote this poem from the word blocks in my collection.  To write a Jenga poem, select blocks and arrange them into a poem of words that stand alone or words that inspire lines mixed with your own words. 

Casting a Line

choose your own

hopes for the future ~

murals unveiled:

ending or new beginning?

inspiring

another chance at life

every precious “breath” 

how we have chosen

race against time

September 15, 2023 – Noon hour  – Kim Johnson

Skinny – a poem with 11 lines, where first and last line repeat similarly in small number of words, and the rest of the lines have one word.  Lines 2, 6, and 10 use the same word.

Owl

owl swoops down

gracefully

without

a

sound

gracefully 

to 

forest

ground

gracefully

owl swoops down