when I wring my hands they lose their ability to reach out and help
lend a hand
6
Tag Archives: poetry
next step
the sixth stage of grief acceptance may bring comfort “What’s next?” leads to hope
Speechless Thursday
“On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”
~ H. L. Mencken (1880-1956)
As yet I cannot comprehend
the ills that have been ordained,
nor how they came to be,
nor how anyone justifies these creeds.
As yet I cannot see a way
to fight these ills that threaten me,
that threaten us,
and our children
and their children,
and this innocent Earth
with the bounty she so selflessly shares
while we systematically poison her.
As yet I cannot rightly communicate
my utter, utter dismay.
So for today
as I struggle to comprehend,
as I struggle for words,
as I struggle to fathom a response,
I will honor my speechlessness
and I will weep.
Five poems, five lines, five syllables
ONE
osprey standing proud
wind-ruffled feathers
sharp beak, sharp talons
sharp eyes watch for prey
owning this river
TWO
most call you a weed
I see a flower
most would destroy you
I pick your seed head
make a wish and blow
THREE
I wish I could feel
the stories you’ve lived
touch your rough ridges
ascertain your truths
splinters withstanding
FOUR
february lull
deserted branches
streets stripped of traffic
evergreen signals
drive us into spring
FIVE
skating on thin ice
isn’t as dire as
it’s cracked up to be
if the ice holds, it’s
icing on the cake
The Daily Post Discover Challenge: Numbers
the holdout
last defiant leaf clings to summer memories falls prey to autumn
wilderness
rooted in chaos ordered with complexity nature’s enigma
The Daily Press Weekly photo challenge:
Chaos
Grave Warning
If you be brave, pass through this gate
but be forewarned there death awaits.
On this dark night, old headstones glow.
Bones shift and stir in graves below.
Outstretched limbs point to the sky.
Leaves rustle as fanged bats pass by.
When midnight tolls on Halloween,
ghosts rise to haunt this eerie scene.
The gate will close as morning nears.
Those trapped inside will disappear.
Next Halloween when the gate swings wide
they’ll at last return from the other side.
Cauldron Quandary
Boiling, bubbling, very troubling. Make just one batch or go for doubling?
Sea Spectres
fog bank steals ashore pirate ghosts from sunken ships unseen plunderers
What Rhymes with Stanza? 