Every time I leave home, I swear that I organize this desk drawer, and every time I come home, it looks like this. Is it elves, earthquakes or a faulty memory?
I spotted an incredible full sun just before sunset, ran in to get my camera and when I got outside again, it said the SD card was locked!! Grrrr. Ran in to get my phone and the sun had already gone down in the couple of minutes it took me to get back outside. I got about 20 good shots, even though it was mainly down, but couldn’t get them culled out farther than this. We’ve had gorgeous sunsets lately. Click on photos to enlarge.
Love the rosy tips of this Sedum Rubrotinctum plant. I think these qualify as “leaves.”
The Prize
Our weekends at the cabin were vacations we adored,
for our grandpa and our grandma made sure that we weren’t bored.
Every single Saturday, they sent us on a quest.
I always set out on my own for I feared that the rest
would take credit for the fact that I’d found the strangest thing
that our grandparents had set the task for each of us to bring.
Those times out on my own were a relief from the noise
from all the squealing little girls and all the shouting boys,
for the numbers of my cousins— all those brothers and those sisters—
pounded on my eardrums ’til I feared that they’d make blisters.
I hated all the folderol, for I preferred the calm.
The quiet sounds of nature acted as a balm.
The whispering of treetops and the music of the loons
were a contrast to the cowboy movies and the Looney tunes
streaming from the playroom where the television
was another thing that prompted my decision
that I could best seek treasure on a solitary search,
and, indeed, I found it in the shadows of a birch—
an eye that looked out at me from the darkness and the gloom
like the only thing alive within a haunted room.
I freed it with my pocketknife—too large for my pocket.
Too large for grandpa’s “thing” box, let alone for grandma’s locket.
What is it? I’m not going to tell where I found the eyes
one of which won me that week’s treasure prize!
Prompt words today are calm, cabin, quest, hate.
I’m also including my photo for the What is it? prompt.
For Cee’s FOTD prompt.
Duck and Cover
To err is human, so when I don’t collect my sneeze,
try to overlook it and forgive my error, please.
Don’t judge my intentions by what I overlook.
I simply cannot make myself go purely by the book.
I sneezed and did not cover. Now “Tag!” you may be it.
It was a simple oversight. Try not to have a fit.
If you think I passed on a bug, do not hesitate.
I’ve heard that it is necessary that you isolate.
As for me, I do not follow dictates from above.
I do not “do” seclusion. I wear no mask or glove.
The world’s my oyster and although I may not be well,
I feel claustrophobic confined within my shell.
If you fear germs, then keep your distance. Turn your head if worried.
New intimate relationships perhaps should not be curried.
Do I follow my advice? That will be the day.
So best not do as I do, but just do as I say.
Prompt words for today are isolate, tag, human and judge. Photo by Ani Kolleshi on Unsplash. Used with permission.
Check List for a Budding Poet
If you want to be prolific,
better that you be specific,
and when you choose to state each fact,
try to make each word exact.
Don’t use time-worn words or wilted.
Avoid pretentious words or stilted.
Never try to force a rhyme.
Do not fail to take the time
to make your lines scan smoothly for,
uneven meter is a bore.
Words written for effect are hollow,
but where heart is, the head will follow.
So write your poetry from the heart.
Put your horse before the cart
and let it pull you up the hill.
Let your words express their will—
you following blindly, just to see
what the next line wants to be.
Let words of different shapes and sizes
furnish pleasure and surprises.
Make your poems resemble zoos
of striped okapis and kangaroos.
Delight yourself and then your reader.
Follow words, then be their leader
by whipping them in line and order,
shaping them within your border.
It never is too late to change
an errant line that’s out of range,
but editing is not what you
initially should seek to do.
Words give hearts tongues to share their pleasure
and their pain in equal measure.
Essayists and authors strive
to make their writings come alive.
They show us where their minds have been,
but poets put the music in.
Nothing vampirish about it. I reorganize kitchen cupboards! Lucky you. You get to see. These kind of projects best done between the hours of 8 PM and 1 AM. (You’ll want to click on these to see them in detail. I’m checking the stats. I’ll know if you don’t!!!)
