Tag Archives: Love

Speaking of Gold

She saw in nature’s
beauty and majesty her first
glimpse of the Divine, swathed in green
amidst the beauty is
an echo of gold

The home He gave her
turned out to be the hardest
to hold onto as the hue
of the forbidden fruit came to
tempt her and take hold

The loss of her
innocence came much too early
even as the green leaf’s
sprout was still on the tree and a
serpent offered a lovely flower

She could have walked away but
then there was only
nothing to lose or so
said the deceiver with an
invitation of an hour

to spare for then
it would have fallen, the leaf
as the temptation subsides
and yet that was not to
be the fate of the leaf

Temptation bowed to evil, so
rich and lovely Eden
survived, but humanity sank
deep into despair so as to
succumb to grief

Now we long so
earnestly for the Light to dawn
to know where love goes
or see love come down
and heal our souls to
see the break of a new day

A day where nothing
more precious than transparent gold
will pave the way so we can
in Eden forever stay

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The Meeting the Bar prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today is a Golden Shovel poem, which is a poem in which you take one or more lines from a favorite poem and use those lines to be the end-line words in a new poem. The result is that if you read down the right margin of the poem you will see the original line or lines. I chose Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost and used the entire poem. This poem was a big challenge for me because I discovered that you can’t really write a Golden Shovel poem unless you use enjambment, which I have a hard time with usually, but I think I made it work.

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Living Water

I’m a prickly pear cactus
living in this hot Mojave Desert

They call my home
Death Valley for good reason

Life-giving water is scarce
but I know how to survive

When the rains come
I store up this treasure
deep in my veins

It sustains me when
the inevitable dry days come

I’m a Christian
living in this spiritually dry land

They call my home
earth, a fool’s paradise

Life-giving water is scarce
but I know how to survive

When I hear God’s Word
I store up this treasure
deep in my soul

It sustains me when
the inevitable dry days come

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For the Poetics prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today, Mish wants us to write poetry inspired by the Southwest, by the desert. I love the desert—the warmth and dryness appeal to me in a way the green and rain of the Pacific Northwest (where I live now) never could.

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Remembering Dad

My dad was the best.

I remember when I was a kid how with gloved hand he would take each bullhead off the hook so I wouldn’t get cut by their spiky fins.

I remember how he taught me to shoot a BB gun in our backyard.

I remember how he let me play in the stacks of tires in his shop and then give me money to go get a Mister Misty at Dairy Queen down the street.

I remember how he would drive me to church and Missionettes and youth group meetings every week in middle school.

I remember when he took me shopping to buy my first pinstriped suit for speech and debate class.

I remember him saying he was going to buy me that Dodge Charger for sale on Main Street then bringing home a Ford Maverick instead because he got it for the price of the tow bill and a new engine that he put in.

I remember opening my mailbox at college and finding a card from him with the note “Here’s a little mad money for you. Don’t tell your mom.” and 20 bucks inside.

I remember that he came to my college graduation but not my wedding 4 months later because my mom was too sick.

I remember the huge smile on his face when he came to my baptism when I was 23.

I remember his last call, when he said “Come see me,” but I didn’t hear the urgency in his voice so I bought a plane ticket to Palm Springs for 2 weeks later.

I don’t remember who called to tell me he’d died a week later but I do remember the darkness that followed.

I remember the turbulence on the puddle-jumper from Portland to Palm Springs and wishing it would just crash.

I remember listening to “Indifference” by Pearl Jam and wondering if the pain of losing him would ever go away.

I remember many more things about my dad, but most of all I remember that he loved me and he died far too young.

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The prompt at NaPoWriMo today is to write an “I remember” poem.

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Heaven

All things new, peace abounds
Singing is an awesome sound
The glory of our God is great
Every need of mine He’ll sate

River of life eternal flows
Tree of life beside it grows
No more sorrow, no more pain
Calf beside the lion has lain

Seraphim and cherubim fly
Nevermore will anyone die
Heaven is a most wonderful place
Promised to all by Jesus’s grace
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Last night with my BSF class of 4th & 5th graders, we drew or wrote our visions of heaven. Since my drawing skills don’t go much beyond stick figures I decided to write this poem.

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It’s Never Goodbye

I love to spend time with my friends
We chat, catch up, and share it all
Pick each other up when we fall
I hope our friendship never ends
For hard feelings we’ll make amends
We’ll laugh out loud, or we might cry
You’ll never know the reasons why
Our deep connection, our long bond
Keeps us close today and beyond
It’s see you later, not goodbye

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I’m spending the weekend with two college roommates, dear friends I’ve known for 32 years, and so I wrote this poem a day ahead in honor of our friendship and time together. And of course, I had to write a third décima because they are just too much fun.

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My Road

My road began bright and cheery
Birds sang sweet, lovely flowers bloomed
It would always be I assumed
Then it became dark and dreary
With each step I grew more weary
When I tried to walk all alone
Plagued by despair of being known
Oh grace, you called me back to you
Once again the skies are deep blue
Seeds of hope and forgiveness sown

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Today’s poem is a décima for dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar today. (I cheated and went to Bjorn’s blog to see what the prompt was going to be before it is live at dVerse in my time zone). I’ll be linking at dVerse at noon PST. Head over there this afternoon to see what other décimas the pub folks have to offer.

This is also my Day 21 post for NaPoWriMo.

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My Poetry Dictionary

I’d love to write a sonnet
While wearing an Easter bonnet

Or perhaps a villanelle
That would do as well

The problem I have with meter
Which is meant to make a poem neater

Is that I struggle to understand iambs
Those metrical feet, not of lambs

The tercet, quintain, and quatrain
Give structure to my creative brain

terza rima might morph from tercets
But that’s not as crazy as it gets

If I am really courageous
I might try a sestina, it’s not contageous

But poetry is if you write it too much
And find that the hearts of others you touch

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Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to find a specialized dictionary, select at least 10 words from it, and write a poem using them. I pulled my copy of the poetry dictionary by John Drury off the shelf and wrote this ode to poetry. Selected words are italicized.

 

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Oh Ramona

The sun rises high
In the cerulean sky
The wind comes like manna
Out of Santa Ana

The brown weed field
Naught but thorns does yield

In the one-story houses
The ungrateful one grouses

Pool parties and a picnic feast
Friends come from north and east

Catching pollywogs and crayfish
Riding horses our greatest wish

I dream of being a writer
Not knowing I must be a fighter

Eucalyptus trees line the street
Dust devils you’re likely to meet

Nothing of substance to export
Not even our own airport

Painted on the town water tower
A lovely field of wildflower

There I found the lover of my soul
He who one day would make me whole

The sun and drought did conspire
To destroy weed fields by wildfire

That same sun sure did bless
So we’d wear shorts and Ts for dress
Bathing suits were all the rage
If only there I’d come of age

Riding bikes so innocent
To school and library we went

The most notable person in town
Was my dad who I seldom saw frown

He loved to pull our travel trailer
I think it reminded him of being a sailor
It sat out the picture window pane
And was more fun than flying by plane

Once again the wildfires burn
The news says for a good rain we yearn

I had a pen pal from Bangladesh
Suriman Bang was her name so fresh
I don’t remember what we wrote
And so I cannot share a quote

But I wonder if we talked of the unicorn
Or the day that Bigfoot was born

Did I share my favorite children’s tale
Where the Wild Things Are, when I sent her mail

Or Mystery in the Night Woods
Where Flying Squirrel hid in alley backwoods

Just beyond the border of town
You heard the sounds of animals die down
As evening gave way to dusk and night
At the Wild Animal Park all was right

I know not yet the meaning of fear
But bask in this sweet security dear

After I had moved away
A friend sent a postcard to say
With a picture of a sign that does endear
Wish you were still here

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The NaPoWriMo Day 16 prompt called for answering a series of Almanac questions and then using the answers to fashion a poem. I decided to write a poem about my childhood hometown of Ramona, California. I answered each of the questions and decided to leave all the answers as a series of thoughts about my life in that town.

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Puppy Delights

A new puppy picture
every day of the year
except Saturday & Sunday, which
double up with one pic for the two

I love tearing off yesterday’s puppy
to reveal the adorable face underneath
Sometimes a whole litter
It’s one of the highlights of my day

Today’s puppy is
a delightful black lab
surrounded by pink flowers
Yesterday offered three
pups in a basket
I wonder what tomorrow will bring

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I’ve attempted the NaPoWriMo prompt for today, to describe an object then end with an abstract phrase that seems unrelated but actually is. I’m not sure if I was completely successful with the prompt, but it’s one of those days when inspiration seems to have taken a vacation.

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Nobody

I’ve spent my life thinking but not fully convinced
that no one really likes me
not even God, who it is said loves everyone

And I’ve often been fairly convinced
that my mom didn’t love me
though deep down I know she did

It’s not true, yet this persistent thought
has colored much of what I do
and what I don’t do

How long did I desire to be
a writer, but didn’t write
for anyone else to read

I’ve hidden away pages of prose and poetry
thoughts and feelings
that I now know others could relate to

How many opportunities to bless others
have I neglected because I undervalued
my own contribution to this world

I know I am loved
I am beloved by God
I am cherished by family

Nonetheless, even now sometimes
I think nobody really likes me
not even God

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The NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write a poem with a line you are afraid to write. There are a few in this poem. I am afraid for others to know my doubt and fears. But this was good practice for writing my memoir, because that thing is going to include a lot of lines I’m afraid to write.

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