Category Archives: Poem

Colleen’s Poetry Challenge No. 136 Photo Prompt – Sweet Memories

Colleen’s Weekly Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge has a new feature. For the middle of the month challenge it’s a photo prompt!

 

Sweet Memories

 

For sentimental reason, I still keep many pieces of projects my daughter made. I have a flower pot she decorated when she was in 5th grade. It is sitting on a round glass top table between two chairs in the front patio. I like to sit in the front porch to drink coffee in the morning. The flower pot reminds me of the things we did together when she was growing up.

Kids are grown and gone

Keeping the bikes where they were

Jolly wheels still turned

Muddy feet through door they came

Hungry mouths screamed for cookies

 

 

 

Colleen’s Tuesday Poetry Challenge #136 Photo Challenge – Memory

 

 

Colleen’s Poetry Challenge – Personal Preference

Colleen said, “Let’s PLAY with opposites! Here are your two words for this week: Pretty & Ugly.” – Synonyms Only.

Here’s the poem about contrast and personal preference.

 

Image result for contrast images

 

Personal Preference

 

Pleasing view to me

Unsightly scene to others

Taste buds are distinct

No worries of sweet or sour

In time, you’ll find lovers

 

 

 

Colleen’s Poetry Challenge – Personal Preference

 

 

 

 

To a Daughter Leaving Home by Linda Pastan – re-post

linda-pastan

On May 27, 1932, Linda Pastan was born to a Jewish family in the Bronx. She graduated from Radcliffe College and received an MA from Brandeis University.

Among her publications are – Carnival Evening: New and Selected Poems 1968-1998 (W. W. Norton, 1998), which was nominated for the National Book Award; The Imperfect Paradise (W. W. Norton, 1988), a nominee for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize.

Linda Pastan lives in Potomac, Maryland.

I feature two of her poems. The first one makes me laugh and think. When I first read the title, I thought she was writing about her daughter going to college, or at a wedding. When I read on to the last line, I could feel her heart. Yes, our children leave us in different stages and different circumstances.

I found myself letting Mercy go little by little as she was growing up. Letting her go in a way of respect her to become independent but still stay close by to be her support. When Mercy was in fifth grade, she configured my first cell phone. When she was a young adult, she became my friend as remains to be my daughter. At the present, I rely on her expertise and am not afraid to ask.

~

To A Daughter Leaving Home by Linda Pastan

When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
as you wobbled away
on two round wheels,
my own mouth rounding
in surprise when you pulled
ahead down the curved
path of the park,
I kept waiting
for the thud
of your crash as I
sprinted to catch up,
while you grew
smaller, more breakable
with distance,
pumping, pumping
for your life, screaming
with laughter,
the hair flapping
behind you like a
handkerchief waving
goodbye.

The second poem evokes my reflection on the question: when am I most myself? I think it is ever since I had cancer. I reflect on life vs. death, health vs. sickness, essential vs. contemporary, personal right vs. relationship. I accept who I am and no interest in pretending. I’m satisfied with what I have and no ambition to acquire “one more.”

~

Something About the Trees by Linda Pastan

I remember what my father told me:
There is an age when you are most yourself.
He was just past fifty then,
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?

There is an age when you are most yourself.
I know more than I did once.
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
Only a single leaf had turned so far.

I know more than I did once.
I used to think he’d always be the surgeon.
Only a single leaf had turned so far,
Even his body kept its secrets.

I used to think he’d always be the surgeon,
My mother was the perfect surgeon’s wife.
Even his body kept its secrets.
I thought they both would live forever.

My mother was the perfect surgeon’s wife,
I can still see her face at thirty.
I thought they both would live forever.
I thought I’d always be their child.

I can still see her face at thirty.
When will I be most myself?
I thought I’d always be their child.
In my sleep, it’s never winter.

When will I be most myself?
I remember what my father told me.
In my sleep, it’s never winter.
He was just past fifty then.

~

This is an expansion of Pantoum Poem Form from 4 stanzas to 7 stanzas.

Stanza 1: 1, 2, 3, 4
Stanza 2: 2, 5, 4, 6
Stanza 3: 5, 7, 6, 8
Stanza 4: 7, 9, 8, 10
Stanza 5: 9, 11, 10, 12
Stanza 6: 11, 13, 12, 14
Stanza 7: 13, 1, 14, 3

 

 

Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge – Plan and Spend

For Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge, here are your two words for this week: Plan & Spend

HERE’S THE CATCH: You can’t use the prompt words! SYNONYMS ONLY!

 

 

Image result for crossroad in the woods images

Crossroad

 

Travel from afar

Crossroad fast approaching

No choice not to choose

Courage needed to decide

To risk promise of unknown

~

 

 

Please visit Colleen Chesebro to join the challenge.

 

Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge #133 – Plan & spend

 

 

Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge – Influence and Perception

The words for Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge #132 are Influence and Perception, #Synonyms Only.

 

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Love of Reading

 

I came back from a trip watching my granddaughter for eight days while my daughter and her hubby went on vacation. It was a wonderful time to watch her play and do new things every day. My daughter started reading to Autumn on day one coming back from the hospital. In the early days, Autumn’s play area and car seat always had books made with soft plastics or fabrics. When she could hold things, board books took place of the soft books. It made this Grandma happy to see her turning the pages.

When she was about 12 months old or even earlier, she recognized and could say “apple,” “ball,” “puppy” and a few other items in the books. When we read passed those pictures, she would turn the pages back to see the pictures and say the names. She loves to pick out the books with her favorite pictures and wanted us to read to her again and again.

My child development background confirms the children enjoy repetition because they love the familiar sights and sounds.

Autumn is 21 months and her vocabulary has grown fast. My daughter couldn’t keep track of the new words she gained and new things she learned to do. During my eight days of watching her, there was a book she wanted me to read to her over ten times. The title of the book is How Kind, about animals sharing with other animals. I also found her reading that book by herself.  I think she enjoys sharing. Upon my daughter’s and her hubby’s return from vacation, during a snack time, my daughter gave Autumn some green beans in a bowl. She gave each piece to her Mommy, Daddy, and Grandma before she ate the rest of them.

 

Child’s love to read

Greatly impacted by adults

Her idea of books

Is no different than toys

Both are fun, enjoyable

 

~   ~  ~

 

Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge – Influence and Perception

 

 

Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #Potluck #Poetry – The Sun Welcomes Me by Miriam Hurdle

Sally featured this poem from my archives in her fabulous blog Smorgasbord Blog Magazine. I invite you to click the link below to read the post and visit her amazingly content rich blog.

 

 

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Welcome to the series of Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post:https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

Today we continue with the series of posts from the archives of poet Miriam Hurdle, who is a regular contributor to the blog. This time I am selecting the posts and the next one I would like to share with you is another of her poems which I know you will enjoy.

The Sun Welcomes Me by Miriam Hurdle

The theme for  Lens- Artists Challenge #12 is Path. This reminds me of some poems I have written about the path I have traveled.

Silver Falls State Park 2018.02.13

We may have decided on a destination or direction to go, but we don’t get…

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