Beauty is
spring water, sweet and cool from forest rains;
a languid summer symphony whispered by the wind;
a smooth black rock, shiny with morning mist;
a waxing moon whose diamond lights play across the timeless sea;
a blue-sky day shared lovingly by you and me.
This poem was created using the online magnetic poetry game at https://magneticpoetry.com/pages/play-online
Give it a go… it’s FREE!
Trapped in her own web
she has long since ceased to spin;
time spins around her.
As she unravels,
a breeze plucks at straining threads,
the web yet to fail.
I ask, who failed whom?
Who suffers, and who prevails?
Spider wonders, too.
Rewrite, rules bent.
Invite to consent.
Aright, we dissent.
A fight? Ambivalent.
Recite and relent.
Acolytes give assent.
Respite. We fall content.
Despite our diffidence,
some incite resistance.
Alas, sans consequence.
Despot... acquiescence.
Dost we protest too much?
Nay, methinks we protest too little.
Outfit: Debbie’s One Word Sunday challenge at Travel with Intent.
Bold jumping spider’s cheeky grin
inhabits not his fuzzy chin.
Indubitably not rude nor snooty,
you’ll find him smiling on his booty.
An aerialist, short facile leaps;
satin sacs in which he sleeps.
Eyes galore, vision intact:
eight plus the pair upon his back.
dVerse prompt: write a quadrille: (a poem of exactly 44 words) and include a form of the word Jump.
The smoky air carries an orange tinge. Leaves droop on hot, dry trees and shrubs outside my window. Eyes sting, throat burns, head aches. Doggo whines to go outside, but I don’t want to expose his small lungs to this foul air.
My wildlife garden looks vacant. The crows that usually occupy the utility wires at this time of day are nowhere to be seen, though I did spot a lone young squirrel this morning, darting across the lawn towards the walnut tree. Talk about little lungs…
For the umpteenth time, I wonder where we humans went wrong on our earthly odyssey. But maybe this was the inevitable destination all along. I mourn for the innocents who’ve been caught up in our reckless journey. My eyes leak.
wildfires run rampant
summer blooms stand powerless
where do the birds go?
dVerse poets Haibun Monday prompt: Journeying
My thoughts are with all affected by this wildfire season. Loss of lives, homes, possessions, livelihoods.. as well as wildlife and their habitats. Incalculable. Huge thanks to those who are fighting these fires, and all who are aiding those suffering losses.
I once cared
how others perceived me,
whether I fit in,
if I was loveable,
if I was enough.
Now I couldn’t care less.
Now I care
about my own priorities and values.
And in loving myself, I find
I’m far more than enough.
What Rhymes with Stanza? 