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Archive for the ‘Photography’ Category

Gate, photo by Margaret Simon

This photo is a gate in my daughter’s yard. There is so much lush vegetation around that passing through feels like an adventure, a mystery. When the jasmine is in bloom, the scent itself will entice you to wonder. Join me today on a writing adventure. Leave a small poem in the comments and respond to others with encouraging words.

First day of school--
open the waiting gate
create your own path.
Margaret Simon, draft

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First fig, by Margaret Simon

We were given a fig tree and planted it this spring. We are now harvesting figs! One at a time. My husband joked that we were having our first annual Simon Fig Festival. I served the single fig cut into 4 pieces for our dessert last night. A small, but successful harvest.

Ethical ELA is holding Open Write this week. The first prompt came from Denise Krebs. She reminded me of a form that Jane Yolen created called the septercet. Each stanza has seven syllables and there are 3 lines per stanza. I wrote a septercet about my first fig.

Do you see rain and complain?
Everything wet in your path–
Grass and mud slide to the street.

I watch this single fig-fruit
turn from green to peachy-red
making rain into sweet juice.

You can decide the mood here.
Rain or shine, weed or flower
Fig tree loves enough of both.

@Margaret Simon, draft

You can choose to write a septercet about your own favorite fruit of summer. Leave a small poem in the comments and write encouraging responses to other writers.

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Garden child (photo by Margaret Simon)

This garden statue was a gift from a friend for my birthday last year (or the year before?) She is nestled in a space with succulents. This morning there was rain and I was drawn to how she seems to be catching raindrops with her upturned face. Maybe she can inspire a small poem in you today.

Angel
face upturned
glittered with raindrops
holding morning clouds with
Hope

Today I chose to use the elfchen form. The directions for this form:

Consider writing today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Respond to other writers with encouragement.

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Franciscan monk feeds the pigeons, Dubrovnik by Molly Hogan

My fellow Inkling (writing group) poet-teacher Molly Hogan went on a fabulous trip to Croatia, Slovenia, and Ireland. She blessed me and all her Facebook friends with lots of amazing photos. I was compelled by this photo. It takes me back to my favorite musical of all time, The Sound of Music. It also reminds me of a kind monk I knew growing up. He was my father’s best friend. His Benedictine name was Brother Anselm. He was witty and wise and an incredible organist.

My poem is a narrative free verse. I wanted to tell a story. I have fond memories of visiting Bill (Brother Anselm) at his monastery in St. Benedict, Louisiana.

Consider writing with me today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Remember this is a drafting space, so kindly write encouraging responses to other writers.

Brother Anselm

Walking into the woods
surrounding the Abbey,
Brother Anselm and I spoke freely.
Our walk was a prayer.

We talked of nothing in particular
as his brown robes swished and swayed,
a comforting blanket of humble access
to a stream of still water.

He reminded me that the holy
is not always quiet. Our voices
echoed among the tall pines,
laughter shaking the ground.

He told me that time was our friend.
Use it wisely and with intention.
Bless the forest with reverent presence
and God will grant you peace.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Great Blue Heron on Purple Creek, Ridgeland, Ms. by Margaret Simon

On a recent visit to Mississippi, I caught this flight of a great blue heron on my phone camera. The wingspan of these birds amazes me. They fly low across the water and perch near the water’s edge to forage for minnows and other small aquatics. This photo reminds me of a drawing my father did of a heron over the water.

Heron in Flight by John Gibson

I invite you to write today using these photos as inspiration. Leave a small poem in the comments and support other writers with your responses.

The Flight of the Great Blue Heron

Poised dawn glider
Horizon solitude
Regal wave to God

Margaret Simon, draft

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Dragonfly by Julie Burchstead in Roseburg, Oregan

Last Friday as I read different Poetry Friday posts, I noticed the trinet form. Rose Cappelli wrote one about peonies. I have not tried this form yet, so I decided to offer it today. The form is 7 lines, 2 words in lines 1, 2, 5, 6, and 7, 6 words in lines 3 & 4.

I went on a swamp tour yesterday and dragonflies were flitting all around. Then I saw Julie Burchstead’s beautiful Facebook photo of this one, perfectly posed for a picture. Dragonflies are common insects. I found this on a dragonfly website:

“Dragonflies are similar to damselflies, but adults hold their wings away from, and perpendicular to the body when at rest. Their two sets of wings work independently, allowing dragonflies to maneuver through the air effortlessly. Their huge eyes give them incredible vision in almost every directions except directly behind them.” If you want to use some facts in your own poem, go here.

Dragonfly wings
aerial lift
flittering over stillness in sacred swamp
summer days echoing of cicada song
daring us
to reflect
light–shine!

Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave your own poems in the comments and respond to other writers with encouragement. Happy Summer!

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Sunflower by Margaret Simon

On Memorial Day, I visited a sunflower farm out in the country with my family. I brought a bucket load home and made 5 vases full. It was fun to give them away to neighbors. I kept this large one for myself. It made its happy face known in my kitchen. Since the sunflower seed head is a fibonacci sequence, I decided to write a fib poem. A fib poem is 20 syllables as each line follows the sequence, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8.

Face
it!
I glow
yellowbright
on tables, in fields–
Happiness grows if you let it.

Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave your own poem in the comments and encourage other writers with responses. Happy Summer!

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Peaceful Friday morning by Paula Bourque

My one little word for 2024 is Peace, so when Paula Bourque posted a selection of photos with the comment “peaceful morning walk”, I asked permission to use one as a prompt. I think many of us are seeking peace at this time of the year. After the frantic slide to the end of the school year, I know that I am. I usually start dreaming of vacations, the beach, and late evenings of relaxation. Summer is a field of possibility.

Welcome Summer

You
shine on
through morning
my waking dreams
sunflower faces
open to a new day
sharing your inspiring light
glowing fields of tall prairie grass
welcoming peaceful dawn of summer

Today I practiced a nonet draft. Please add your own small poems in the comments. Encourage other responders with encouraging words. Thanks for stopping by.


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Photo by Molly Hogan

I recently wrote a poem about the loss of an old oak for the sake of a new road. We discussed my poem in the Inklings writing group on Sunday. Molly texted this photo to the group. “I thought of our conversation when I was walking in a nearby town and discovered they’d cut down tons of trees as they repair the sidewalks. It made me so sad. Someone had placed these small cloth notes on the remains.”

I was considering a butterfly photo for today, but when she sent this, it hit me in my gut. We have to use poetry to resist. This itself is poetry of resistance.

The roots are sewing
messages of sorrow–
saying goodbye to their masters,
the trunk and branches
they served for years.
Underground, the roots
hold hands in solidarity
grieving and wishing
the world would understand.

Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave a small poem in the comments paying homage to the trees. Remember to respond with encouragement to other writers.

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Storm in Des Moines, Iowa; photographer unknown.

Storms seem to pop up out of nowhere these days. This week we had one blow through that knocked out an outdoor light in a literal flash, Crash! What does this photo conjure for you? Fear? Curiosity? Memory? Please leave a small poem in the comments.

I haven’t written a skinny poem in a while. The rules are 11 lines, the first and last uses the same words and can be any length. The other lines are one word with a repeated word in lines 2, 6, and 10.

Storms come suddenly in the night
bearing
violent
windswept
voice
bearing
climate
change
stress
Suddenly, in the night, storms come.

Margaret Simon, draft

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