dreary rainy day
streams overflowing their banks
beauty and danger
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
From the darkness calls
On this last day of April
a call sounded in the night.
The sky was clear,
the stars were out,
and magic called from the darkness.
We had no expectations, just a
"Wouldn't it be cool if..." attitude.
Yet there he was -
rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he sang:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he flew:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Grace.
Day 30 - last day!
a call sounded in the night.
The sky was clear,
the stars were out,
and magic called from the darkness.
We had no expectations, just a
"Wouldn't it be cool if..." attitude.
Yet there he was -
rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he sang:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he flew:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Grace.
Day 30 - last day!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
acrostic haibun
Tonight's offering is a bit of a hodge-podge. The prompt for today was to write an acrostic poem, which means that the first letter of each line spells something when you read those letters vertically. The twist, however, was to make the foundation of the acrostic personal, be it by using your name, the month of your birthday, your favorite color, or what have you. I chose to use "Heather of the Hills" as the base for my acrostic poem. That's the name of my nature blog, which is my "original" blog, and has come to be a part of my identity since I started it almost 3 years ago.
Hoping for inspiration
Every day.
Attuned to cues and clues,
Taking what is given to me.
Hearing my inner voice
Echoing in my inner mind,
Reaching for something more.
Open heart,
Full of dreams.
Turning toward new ideas,
Heralding fresh starts -
Each day an opportunity awaits.
Holding out my hand,
Imagining what could be.
Learning, laughing, loving,
Longing for me to be.
Something's coming.
I also wrote a haiku today, each line of which starts with words from an inspirational phrase that I came across on the internet this morning, just before reading today's prompt. From the phrase "thoughts become things":
thoughts like a light bulb
become real and tangible
things of true power
Both poems share a similar theme. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I could actually turn the whole thing into a haibun, which I learned about thanks to my blogging friend James over at Coyote Mercury. By its most broad definition, haibun is a combination of prose and haiku. So, my original works convert to this:
Hoping for inspiration every day. Attuned to cues and clues, taking what is given to me. Hearing my inner voice echoing in my inner mind, reaching for something more. Open heart, full of dreams. Turning toward new ideas, heralding fresh starts - each day an opportunity awaits. Holding out my hand, imagining what could be. Learning, laughing, loving, longing for me to be. Something's coming.
As we near the end of NaPoWriMo, I should be wearing out, but the poems of the last two days came rather quickly. It's been a fun ride, and I'll be sad to see this writing month come to an end.
Day 27
Hoping for inspiration
Every day.
Attuned to cues and clues,
Taking what is given to me.
Hearing my inner voice
Echoing in my inner mind,
Reaching for something more.
Open heart,
Full of dreams.
Turning toward new ideas,
Heralding fresh starts -
Each day an opportunity awaits.
Holding out my hand,
Imagining what could be.
Learning, laughing, loving,
Longing for me to be.
Something's coming.
I also wrote a haiku today, each line of which starts with words from an inspirational phrase that I came across on the internet this morning, just before reading today's prompt. From the phrase "thoughts become things":
thoughts like a light bulb
become real and tangible
things of true power
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Both poems share a similar theme. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I could actually turn the whole thing into a haibun, which I learned about thanks to my blogging friend James over at Coyote Mercury. By its most broad definition, haibun is a combination of prose and haiku. So, my original works convert to this:
Hoping for inspiration every day. Attuned to cues and clues, taking what is given to me. Hearing my inner voice echoing in my inner mind, reaching for something more. Open heart, full of dreams. Turning toward new ideas, heralding fresh starts - each day an opportunity awaits. Holding out my hand, imagining what could be. Learning, laughing, loving, longing for me to be. Something's coming.
thoughts like a light bulb
become real and tangible
things of true power
As we near the end of NaPoWriMo, I should be wearing out, but the poems of the last two days came rather quickly. It's been a fun ride, and I'll be sad to see this writing month come to an end.
Day 27
Monday, April 26, 2010
Just dandy (aka "The lion's mane")
Some stand tall, others fall short,
but they are all proud.
Seeds hurled forth on the slightest
of breezes,
but only after its vibrant lemon yellow is
interrupted
by the black banding of a bumble bee.
A name coming from the French
- dent de lion -
translated as "tooth of the lion,"
it is not nearly as fierce as its name implies.
No, quite to the contrary.
Fields of delightful golden pompoms soon
give way
to a dreamy white haze.
Their delicate lace fingers reach out,
seeds on parachutes,
floating to realms unknown.
They are whispers of
the summers of our youth.
Don't tell me "This is a weed."
I will counter with "This is a thing of beauty."
Today's poem does not come from a writing prompt. Rather, it was inspired by the many photos I have taken recently of dandelions in all kinds of light, in all stages of being (well, mostly). This poem has been coming on for a few days, after taking the time to study the intricacies of this fine flower. For an example of a recent photo from my dandelion collection, please see "dandelion sunset" on my photography blog.
Day 26
but they are all proud.
Seeds hurled forth on the slightest
of breezes,
but only after its vibrant lemon yellow is
interrupted
by the black banding of a bumble bee.
A name coming from the French
- dent de lion -
translated as "tooth of the lion,"
it is not nearly as fierce as its name implies.
No, quite to the contrary.
Fields of delightful golden pompoms soon
give way
to a dreamy white haze.
Their delicate lace fingers reach out,
seeds on parachutes,
floating to realms unknown.
They are whispers of
the summers of our youth.
Don't tell me "This is a weed."
I will counter with "This is a thing of beauty."
Today's poem does not come from a writing prompt. Rather, it was inspired by the many photos I have taken recently of dandelions in all kinds of light, in all stages of being (well, mostly). This poem has been coming on for a few days, after taking the time to study the intricacies of this fine flower. For an example of a recent photo from my dandelion collection, please see "dandelion sunset" on my photography blog.
Day 26
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
excuses
A poor workman always blames his tools.
Failing that, he blames his surroundings, his environment.
Excuses, all of them.
There are many excuses to not write.
I don't have time for this.
I can't think of anything to say.
It's so loud in here I can't hear myself think.
It's too quiet in here.
That dripping faucet is driving me crazy.
My pen ran out of ink.
The pencil lead broke.
My laptop caught a virus.
My eyes are crossed from exhaustion.
My mind can't put words together any more.
My fingers can't type.
Brain shutting down.
How long until day 30?
Today's NaPoWriMo prompt is "find a phrase." We were directed to The Phrase Finder website to search for a phrase that rang true with us to write a poem around it. I chose the English proverb A poor workman always blames his tools. Seems appropriate for this stage of the writing month.
Day 24
Failing that, he blames his surroundings, his environment.
Excuses, all of them.
There are many excuses to not write.
I don't have time for this.
I can't think of anything to say.
It's so loud in here I can't hear myself think.
It's too quiet in here.
That dripping faucet is driving me crazy.
My pen ran out of ink.
The pencil lead broke.
My laptop caught a virus.
My eyes are crossed from exhaustion.
My mind can't put words together any more.
My fingers can't type.
Brain shutting down.
How long until day 30?
Today's NaPoWriMo prompt is "find a phrase." We were directed to The Phrase Finder website to search for a phrase that rang true with us to write a poem around it. I chose the English proverb A poor workman always blames his tools. Seems appropriate for this stage of the writing month.
Day 24
space available
Fieldside Realty -
providing safe nest boxes since 2006
It is our business at
Fieldside Realty
to offer clean, safe, and free housing
to Bluebirds and Tree Swallows each spring.
Each of our properties includes
* Handcrafted one-room oak box,
perfect for nest building and starting your family
* Stovepipe baffle for security against rodents and snakes
* Creekside access, just wingbeats away
* Free nesting material
* Some of the best bug hunting in town
* Excellent perching spots nearby
The properties are located in a friendly,
well-landscaped neighborhood.
Humans will check in on your dwellings periodically
to make sure that you are doing well
and to track the progress of your
growing family.
We hope you will consider renting from
Fieldside Realty today.
(Special appreciation given to multiple brood attempts.)
NEW LISTING: 1 duck box available for immediate occupancy
While technically written on day 24 of NaPoWriMo, this is in response to day 23's prompt "unlikely couples," where we are to "[w]rite a poem in which you combine a speaker and an event that normally don’t go together." I'm also posting this one at my nature blog because I think a lot of folks there will get a kick out of it.
Day 23
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