wondrous profusion

 

oh so rhododendron

IMG_1131

photo by lynn

welcomes spring

to our front door

by blooming like

a hedonist, full of

fuchsia passion and

exuberant energy,

in wild celebration of

petrichor rainbows

with petaled frills and

stamen explosion!

 

 

 


Sharing with Tweet Speak Poetry where Kellê hosts a “wonder of the world” photo and/or poem prompt during the month of May.

maleficent (I)

 

no sleeping beauty, she’s an
(un)fairy, frightful villainess
come back in black; horned,
winged, pale with hungering

what do you offer to appease?
appeal? tease? or try to deal?
a cupcake?! O, she’s no mousy
muffin that you’d be stuffin’!

whip up a delicacy for those
cynical red lips, a mouth that
purses when speaking curses;
bake over coals of tongued fire,
in thick forest of thorny briar

rich, dark chocolate cake–it’s
devil’s food; a true-love’s kiss
baked inside, laced with poison;
white-frosted, too-sweet icing

serve at dawn as darkness dies

 


Linking to TS Poetry where Callie invites us to make cupcakes for a fairy tale character! Also linking to dVerse Poets where today we re-visit legends with Anmol.

crumbling lady edifices crucifix

 

Dark-vowelled smoking columns aspire ruin

as dust-tongued, forested roof caves innavely;

water-spoken island surrenders to timbers

of flamed and lillified heaven-circling pyre.

 

Aghast of tragedy, fire-dwarfed gargoyles are

hearting a tear-culled Paris in hymnally tone

to dignify bell-voiced ash of towering ages;

above rubble, The King’s cross, power-gilded stands.

 

 


Linking to dVerse poetics with Laura Bloomsbury and loving the hyphenate-coined words by poet Dylan Thomas (as featured in my poem).

mid-western disaster

Linking late to Linda’s “water” prompt at dVerse poetics


 

water, water, water, everywhere!
dark clouds broiling across plains’
hard-crusted snowy landscape; soil
soaked by heavy rains, washes into
half-frozen rivers, ice breaks loose
floating icebergs grind along banks
dragging down bridges, trees, poles;
pressured dam gives way into torrent
that floods downstream in spreading
wave that engulfs barns, farmhouses’
families escape on muddy roads while
cattle are trapped on shrinking islands
hay bales swept away, fields ruined and
Nebraska is once again a broad ocean…

 

 

 

 

 

 

overheard

 

it was almost morning,

half moon and venus were

still hanging at the star bar

watching the world turn.

“earth, ain’t she a beauty?!”

half moon commented.

“she really is, considering

her age,” venus had to agree.

 

“she’s weathered many storms

in her years…whatcha think

about this global warming?”

“i’m not convinced, seems

earth’s weather has always

been a bit unpredictable…

moon-3385760__340

pixabay image

(sigh) i’m not sure people

are as wise and powerful

as they imagine they are.”

 

half moon chuckles, “well,

looks like sun’s gonna close

this place down…alright

if i walk you home?”

 

 

 

can a writer be a farmer?

 

this farm is home base

where i work (if i write,

do i shirk?) don’t ask the

farmer loaded questions;

i’m the farmHer who finds

sweet poetry in life on our

iowa farm, where tall corn

grows, and calves are born

(my poems are calved too)

placental in messy straw.

low mooing of cattle and

hum of machinery drones

on…in rich bass, solid tones

of this daily symphony as

poetry sings higher notes of

melody in quiet moments,

green fields, open space

discovering my place

…oh, gotta go do chores!

 

 


Linking to dVerse Poets where Gina hosts poetics tonight…

a fresh intuition

 

Screen Shot 2019-03-16 at 1.29.41 PM

(magnetic poetry online)

the treasure

Skeptical about the Bible? Try reading one of the New Testament gospels, the book of John. We all have questions! See post by former agnostic, The Sylvr Pen.


 

diversified volumes form unique collection
library referenced by love’s common theme

more than mere letters forming words
more than simply words on a page

voluminous, luminous top-selling tome of
truth verified on authority of one true author

a long-ago breathed, still breathing book
a living letter made alive by the lord of life

logos, the Word made flesh, God himself
fleshed out in gracious words of his son

sword of spirit that pierces mind and soul
cuts through deceit, defends against evil one

map to precious treasure of kingdom is not
to be pirated or buried but diligently studied

spill the treasure out to be spent by beggars
memorize the map to find the only way home

 

 

cute-164323_1280

free image – pixabay

life…as world turns

Join dVerse Poets where Lillian quotes Eccles. 3: 1-8, a time for everything.


 

“all is vanity,” says the preacher
life’s breath ~ “chasing after wind”

somewhere in the weary world
newborn baby first sucks in air
toddler tosses pebbles into pond
young girl twirls a wedding dance
farmer plants seed in hope of harvest
lovers laugh to embrace ~ weep, to not
developer digs dirt in hope of homes
man grieves loss of beloved wife
old woman stacks stones on beach
dying man expires with final sigh
somewhere in the weary world

“all is vanity,” says the preacher
life’s breath ~ “chasing after wind”

 

 

 

will all find tolerance?

 

i am a believer

i am an American

i am white-skinned

i am a college graduate

i am married, to one man

i work at home on the farm

i feed beef cattle to feed people

i am a home owner and land owner

i am conservative in my political views

 

are these statements provocative?
unacceptable, politically incorrect?
should i apologize to the world?
do we really believe in tolerance?
does diversity respect equally?

 

 

i want to listen and learn

i may disagree but that

does not mean i hate

yes, i am privileged

to love & be loved

to also bleed red

i thank God for

his blessings

every day;

you?

 

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. (Psalm 16:6)

daughter she never knew

 

desperate now

no real choice

no viable option

he’d already left her

she birthed other babies

what else could she do

but have child removed?

…the one she’d never celebrate

 


Abortion is a tragedy to grieve, not an occasion to celebrate. Author Leslie Leyland Fields writes an open, compassionate letter to “celebrants” of abortion here.

lament for erica anne

5c20f984e8202.image

 

hear our anguished cries, O God!
why do the loveliest ones die young?

she had her daddy’s perceptive eyes
that saw beyond this world’s pretense;

she had her mother’s tender heart
that loved beyond this world’s ache.

Erica belonged to a better, purer world.

depression’s demons
pushed her till she fell,
desperate to escape.

her mortal body broken but
her timeless spirit caught in
arms of compassion
and carried home,

like lost lamb on gentle
Shepherd’s shoulders…

Lord, carry us in our grief!

 

 


For my friend and family who lost their sweet daughter/sister. Read Erica’s obituary here.

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