corn | a poem in my pocket

love the life you live

21 Jul 2026 25 Comments

by lynn__ in Uncategorized Tags: baby, band, birdsong, corn, cows, dog, friends, lightning, moon, mountains, rain, sun, tea, thunder

These I have loved:

wildflower meadows, clear rivulets, rocky heights of mountains

snowshoes strapped to boots, quiet shush through fresh powder

powerful, empathic, wondrous words heard from lips, read on pages

swelling, surround sound of woodwinds and brass in band practice

companionable petted presence, walks, whine, odor, licks of dog

deep, dark, long-lashed eyes of cows, shining wet with curiosity

smooth touch of sweetly scented, oh-so-soft baby’s perfect skin

squeals, shouts, smiles, pouts of grandchildren…eighteen seen!

magnanimous masculine hearts of eight men; six from boyhood

loyal laughter and spiritual bond of kindred spirits in dear friends

wise, patient influence of godly mothers, grandmothers, aunts

exotic variations of chai tea: steeped, dirtied, iced, spiced, latted

homemade blueberry scones, warm, drizzled with lemon glaze

succulent jumbo shrimp dipped in cocktail sauce, eaten seaside

wake to morning songs of birds serenading our shady campsite

thunderheads rumbling across prairie, forked lightning flashes

each mysterious phase of moon that beguiles with mirrored light

warm sun on skin, stretched lazily on beach chair, plush towel

fresh, clean smell of air washed by rain; damp hair, shampooed

wild roses blooming annually along ditches, lilacs in backyards

greenest fields of corn in rows, tasseled and pointing skyward

…all these have been my loves.

A list poem patterned after Rupert Brooke’s poem, “The Great Lover”… linked to dVerse poetics, hosted by Kim. As I recount the things I have loved, I must give thanks to God for these gifts; He is truly The Great Lover!

serenity

13 Jun 2026 2 Comments

by lynn__ in tanka, Uncategorized Tags: blackbird, clouds, corn, gravel, morning, walk

early morning walk

gravel crunches under foot

nature awakens

red-wing blackbird sings on post

whorl of corn plants reach for clouds

harvest fun

05 Sep 2025 14 Comments

by lynn__ in cinquain Tags: corn, gourds, grandchildren, harvest, pumpkins

corn maze…

enter with map

follow lost grandchildren

emerge later to pick bumpy

pumpkins;

orange…

ordinary

white orbs are popular

even keen on green gourds with stripes

and warts!

_______

Bjorn asks us to revisit cinquain form at dVerse…here’s my double!

falling for fall

21 Sep 2024 7 Comments

by lynn__ in villonnet Tags: autumn, bees, butterflies, cats, corn, cows, fall, leaves, pumpkins, wind

A Villonnet is a hybrid of the Villanelle and the Sonnet. It has the Iambic Pentameter of both, but holds the four-stanza/line structure of the sonnet, while utilizing the two-line rhyme nature of the villanelle. The final stanza replaces the sonnet couplet with a typical villanelle tercet. Linking this villonnet to Grace’s prompt at dVerse Poets pub. I was NOT going to write about fall, but here it is…

______________

i sit on deck to soak in warm sunshine
this end of summer’s glow suits my skin fine
fat cats watch scene from shade and lounge around
piped wind chimes’ gentle song is only sound

forgotten apple falls from top of tree
while butterflies migrate, bees cap honey
red leaves whirl past as if in joyful dance
a celebration of autumn’s last chance

ripe orange pumpkins lie hidden in field
as drying crops will soon their harvest yield
pheasants and deer will feast upon the corn
bred cows will glean before blizzards are born

today, september stays my favorite month
until the wind turns cold out of the north
then i will dream with birds of drifting south

_______________

NOTE: Line 1 is to be repeated as lines 8 and 13, and line 4 is repeated as lines 12 and 15. I neglected to repeat any lines, not a true villonnet…may have to rework sometime!

weathering predictions

19 Sep 2023 24 Comments

by lynn__ in fold Tags: autumn, cattle, corn, fall, fires, geese, leaves, school

autumn’s season when leaves must fall
in colors of dying sunset across sky
where canada geese high above us call
their long goodbyes to summer’s home;
they must move on as leaves must fall.
farmers bring in dry harvest of ripe corn
and deliver fattened cattle to butcher’s stall
to supply grocer’s shelves to feed all our
children hungry for winter’s first snowfall;
in hopes of missed school days while haze
of smoky fires burn dead leaves that must fall.

______________

This is a “fold” poem invented by Gillena Cox and featured at dVerse poets’ pub.

The Fold [Gillena’s guidelines]
1. 11 lines
2. The end phrase of Line 1 repeats at Lines 5 and 11
3. The rhyme of line 1 continues through in every other line
4. There MUST be a reference to nature and how it affects you, the poet

if plants could pray

01 Jul 2022 2 Comments

by lynn__ in free verse, prayer Tags: corn, drought, heaven, prayer, rain

Lord, do you hear the corn?

parched leaves curl inward

desperate to conserve moisture

green tips point up, reaching

toward heaven’s hot expanse

in dry plea for relief

do i see small rain cloud form?

hear faint rumble of distant thunder?

oh, yes and amen

crops thank you in advance

faith grows greener

listen as darkness falls

27 Jul 2019 20 Comments

by lynn__ in Uncategorized Tags: barn, birds, corn, crickets, lightning bugs, moon, stars

Listen to silent barn; cattle chores
finished when farmer turns out light
as darkness falls.

Listen to busy crickets, fiddle
incessantly from damp ditch grass
as darkness falls.

Listen to tall corn grow, stretching
and squeaking to whorled height
as darkness falls.

Listen to lightning bug wings
chirr while rising to spark new mate
as darkness falls.

Listen to killdeer warn their
nestlings to huddle in feather bed
as darkness falls.

Listen to far stars, singing ancient
alien lullaby with grandmother moon
as darkness falls.

A pastoral poem in six tercets, patterned after Jane Kenyon’s “Let Evening Come” and linked to Kim’s mini challenge at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

loud rowdy blues

19 Nov 2017 3 Comments

by lynn__ in shadorma Tags: bluejay, corn, feather, grove, Thanksgiving

Linking to Eliot Dybden’s Shadorma November at Along the Interstice. A shadorma has six lines with no rhyme or meter, except for a syllable structure of 3/5/3/3/7/5.

bluejay punks

public domain

nab spilt corn kernels

feathered flash

raucous caws

gather together in grove

living thanksgiving

shimo no koe

04 Oct 2017 24 Comments

by lynn__ in haibun Tags: apple, corn, crops, fall, frost, soybeans, winter

Haibun is a Japanese form of prose and poetry (haiku) together. I’m joining Victoria with dVerse Poets writing haibun about “first frost’s voice” (shimo no koe).

We actively anticipate the first frost of fall, working as a team ahead of the weather’s uncertain clock. The last tomatoes, some green ones, must be claimed off the vines and colorful peppers plucked from dying garden. This home-grown produce is chopped with harvested onions into tantalizing picante sauce to be admired in pint jars on shelf before smeared on tortilla chips.

Our prodigious pair of apple trees generously offer basketfuls of blushing fruit to family and friends willing to pick. The dropped or blemished fruit are treats rolled under fence to eager cows. Contentment wafts on spiced fragrance of apple-pie-in-a-jar syrup that simmers in large pot on basement stove. Steam from water bath canner spreads warm humidity indoors.

Fall rain dampens farmers’ spirits, swells soybeans in their pods, and muddies fields. “A killing frost is what we need” for corn stalks to die so matured ears plump with kernels can be harvested. The farmer checks weather forecast every night. At last, it steals in with the dawn, silently smothering the grass and finishing off the last droopy flowers.

icing on orchard

may ruin or ripen crops

winter’s first whisper