legacy

 

 

I’ve given my body

to my children as

a living inheritance

of primal sustenance

vital to ensure their

childhood survival;

for life education and

milestone celebration.

 

 

A woman’s body

amazes, astounds

envelopes, nurtures,

stretches elastic

grows softly round

with love surrounds

heartbeat pounds.

 

 

They left their marks

indelible, incredible

creases, sags, bags

every gray hair is

strand of costly

(and mostly, yes)

sweet memories

rooted in the heart.

 

 


Linking to Grace’s prompt to write “body” poems at dVerse poets pub today…

precious

Life

healthy, strong

moving, growing, thriving

loud, beloved, withdrawn, quiet

slipping, falling, fading

weak, slow

Death


A diamante poem, diamond shape list exploring opposites written to specific form. Today I will admit my father to hospice care.

finding spring

celebrating Easter is

a message of hope

every year, snows of winter fade and

warmth of sunshine returns

Iowa’s bountiful fields begin the annual miracle

a reminder that the world continues

at its regular rhythm

farmers prepare to plant

kids play in fresh air and sunshine

grass rises…an emerald carpet

flowers decorate…live beauty

birds sing…beckon us outside

we are once again reminded

of the simple joys of life.


A poem “found” from phrases of an editorial in the April 3, 2021 issue of the N’west Iowa Review. Also known as a “blackout” poem because I used sharpie to black out all words of article NOT selected for poem.

believe the vine

A quadrille of 44 words offered to you and shared with fellow poets at the dVerse pub

come taste and see
we drink to remember
his blood poured out for us

crushed like heavy grapes
stomped in garden winepress
he drinks bitter cup of betrayal

like first disciples
we wonder, amazed
by life blood we’re clean?

divinest wine lifts sin’s bloodstains!

photo by Bruno/Germany on Pixabay

holy moment

At dawn on the first day of the week, a woman…

 

 

neighbor’s rooster crows

for easter sunrise service

peace on cattle yard

politics

speak in symbols and substance

appointed judge washes
hands of culpability
in condemning innocent

man… more than a man?
what is truth, anyway?

truth about power
is it corrupts the one
who would wield it

but condemned man
tells official he has
no authority over him

except what was
given intentionally
and temporarily

in fickleness of the mob
witness ultimate hate crime

king of the jews
betrayed by his own people
executed by gentiles

royal treatment for royalty?

how injustice of humanity
will serve the justice of God!

doggone

at the museum in
murdo, south dakota
(around the corner from
a life-size jar jar binks)

stands antique treadmill
not for human exercise
but built in miniature for
dog trained on laundry

duty to run the wheel
tied to belt on agitator
of old washing machine
just like grandma used—

funny how that memory
was jogged, grandma’s
story of how the family
dog would often hide

on monday mornings.

photo by lynn


Linking to De’s “laundry” prompt at dVerse Poets

drawing water

Father, again I THIRST for you
like the psalmist, deer on the run
who panted for streams of water
like the woman at the well, dried
up, life poured out and wasted.

Jesus, you offer living water
abundant and refreshing, pure
well-spring of new LIFE within;
fill me up and wash over me
with your actively loving Holy

Spirit; fill to overflowing that
I spill on others; I lift my empty
CUP to you for my daily drink
where you lead me beside such
crystal clear and quiet waters.

You are one, true living God,
fountain of life; my only source
of soulful deep abiding JOY in
your presence today, tomorrow;
like a river eternal forevermore!

heart issue

Violence does not begin with guns; it begins with hate and anger.


After posting, I read this and want to share it:

https://examplewordpresscom62751.wordpress.com/2021/03/15/the-good-the-bad-and-the-usually-hidden/ 

 

waited long enough

know

you love her

we’ve seen you

two together

inseparable separates

two halves of a whole

why how act shy now?

be direct already

isn’t it time to put a ring on it?

can guess she thinks yes

go ahead

tie that gnarly knot!

love knot by Sara Verdier


Linking to quadrille prompt at dVerse where Mish has chosen the word “knot”….

purposeful patterns

This being human is
a complicated 10,000
piece jigsaw puzzle
without the box lid.
(i think God keeps
everybody’s box lid,
with their name on it)

A uniquely beautiful
mosaic of color and
movement arranged
in confusing circular
shape (no straight
edges for rounded
personal puzzle).

At times, we feel
urgent motivation
to build our life; at
other times, weary
of the effort, we
pause our puzzling
to get a drink or
take needed nap.

We may beg God
to show us the
picture on box lid
but he just smiles
mysteriously and
finds the next piece
we were looking for,
which fits exactly.

When our puzzle
is finally finished,
love’s glue holds
pieces permanently
together and our
completed puzzles
hang side-by-side
on God’s gallery wall.


Kim challenges us at dVerse poets pub to write a metaphor beginning with, “This being human is…”

an open letter

Dear America,

You’re beyond blessed… land of free
home of brave, amazing experiment in liberty
declare all men created equal under constitutional law
protect our individual rights to live as we believe (or not)

Prosperity and propaganda spoil our posterity
too easily offended, we cannot stomach free speech
whiners win, embrace victimhood and accentuate racism
riots stoked by radicals on both marxist left/anarchist right

Our family foundation fractures as men refuse to
behave like men, women choose not to be womanly,
vulnerable children are aborted, abused, abandoned
all sexual objectification is slavery, not empowerment

Devoid of civic duty, common sense or decency,
how long til woke culture truly awakens to let truth of
biological, sociological, logical facts inform feelings?

Will our society dismantle itself, brick by brick?
or can we re-imagine real ideals of american dream?
will we re-unite as one privileged and humbled nation
of natives, immigrants, and refugees under God?

Sincerely,
Citizen Hope

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