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Posts Tagged ‘#smallpoems’

Sandestin Beach, Florida

I am currently in Florida on a work trip with my daughter and her son, Thomas. Thomas and I had a fun day yesterday playing in the waves and making friends in the hotel pool. He makes friends so easily which is helpful to his babysitter grandma.

Yesterday afternoon a storm rolled in. I loved sitting on the safe balcony and watching the clouds.

Watching the Storm at the Beach

Becomes a pastime
when you’re with a grandson
who craves your constant attention.

Be open to the possibility of storms.
Stand in the rain
and let it cool your body
into shivers and shakes.

Then return to a warm bath
and Spider-Man pajamas
to watch Argentina play
in the World Cup
cheering them on, only because
you like the color blue.

Margaret Simon, draft

Please consider writing a poem today in the comments. I will be driving back to Louisiana and look forward to reading them.

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Last week I was on vacation with my family in the Pacific Northwest. One of our hikes, The Spruce Railroad Trail in Olympic National Park, included a Poetry Walk. I took pictures of the panels and wrote a found poem from them. I invite you to do the same. Found poems are fun. Write the lines that grab you in some way (an image you relate to, words you love to say) and write them in an order that is pleasing to you.

Here is a draft I wrote in my notebook:

Crescent Lake Found Poem

Stenciled on the petal of a bluebell
the earth remembered me
my thoughts
light as moths
smell like grass and salt
smooth home- the river.
Margaret Simon, draft

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Resurrection Fern on Grandmother Oak

After months of drought, we’ve recently had an onslaught of rain. One of the most miraculous plants in the South is resurrection fern. It has a symbiotic relationship with live oaks. When the air is dry and no rain falls, it’s hardly noticeable, brown and dead looking. However, when we have days and days of humidity and rain, rain, rain, the fern pops up with its bright green fronds covering the branches and living in beauty. It seems to say, “Ah, yes!”

I took this photo of our grandmother oak near the bayou. She is 250+ years old. Her arms drape wide and hold a rope swing that many a child (and adult) have ridden on. She is featured on a live oak tree bike tour that our friend Jim leads every spring.

She’s also made mention of in many of my poems. I never tire of taking her photo or writing about her.

Turning to a random page in “Dictionary for a Better World” by Irene Latham and Charles Waters, I chose a cinquain form. (2, 4, 6, 8, 2)

Sometimes
bravery looks
like fern on an old oak
coming to life only after
hard rain.
Margaret Simon, draft

Please write a small poem today and leave it in the comments. Respond to others with kind encouragement.

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Red-eared slider

My morning walk these days takes me through our local City Park that skirts the bayou and also nestles a pond where there are rumors of a lurking gator. This little guy, about 12 inches or so, had his nose in the air and was totally still, allowing me to come close for a photo.

I like turtles. I love to see them lined up on a log sunning themselves. I was researching a poetry book a few years ago and discovered that turtles often ramble up on the top of a gator without a care. Turtles can live a long time in the wild, unless the gator is hungry for turtle soup.

Today, be inspired by this little turtle to write a small poem in the comments. Support other writers with encouragement. Thanks for stopping by.

Bayou-side slider
still as a stone statue
red-ear beams on point
Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Patricia Franz.

I’ve been taking a class in watercolor painting, and I find it challenging. This morning I went to yoga at my friend’s house. She does a private session with a sound bath meditation at the end. During the meditation shavasana, I had a vision of billowing waves of an ocean. I wanted to capture the vision in a watercolor, but I’m not brave enough yet to paint without help. I used a YouTube video to produce the image for my poem today.

The ocean is interesting, but the sailboats…well…ew. I accidentally dribbled some blue, and one thing my instructor said about accidental spots really helped me. He said, “Make them into birds.”

My poem wanted to be a shadorma form. (3, 5, 3, 3, 7, 5)

Waves of sound
surround in seaflow
billow sails
simply free
Meditation comes to me—
whispers of owl wings.

Margaret Simon, draft

For Mother’s Day, my daughter gave me a beautiful oracle deck. The card I picked today was the owl “Wisdom”.

Roots and Wings Oracle Deck by Katharine Ryalls

What is inspiring you these days?

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Roots and Wings Oracle Deck created by Katharine Ryalls.

The power at my house is off. We are getting some repairs done, and the guys showed up at 7 and shut off the power at 7:45 AM. I’ve escaped to my daughter’s house.

She left a Mother’s Day gift on her dining table. It’s an oracle deck. Ironically, the first card I pulled was the snake. I am afraid of snakes, and my grandchildren know it, so they love to scare me with any snake-like toy. It is a visceral fear, completely out of my control. My son-in-law has gotten into the joy of scaring Mamére on our family trips. How did I pull this card? The Universe is speaking to me in snakes!

The label reads “Healer” and the message is “Begin the process of repairing something that has been hurt, sick, or not functioning at its best. Healing can leave us changed, but the scars remind us of our strength, courage, and resilience.”

Asclepius,
help me shed the skin of grief
and put on the armor of hope.

What are you most afraid of? What in you needs healing? Join me today with a small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your responses.

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Rose Cappelli has the line from the Land of Poetry Progressive Poem today. She used her secret favorite devise of alliteration. It’s my favorite, too. As I tell students, it just sounds good.

At Ethical ELA, Luke Bensing prompted us to use alliteration in our first and last lines. The photo today is from my visit to the butterfly exhibit in New Orleans at the Audubon Aquarium and Insectarium. I wrote a septercet, which is a small three lined poem of 7 syllables each.

Purple pops of salvia
nectar-seeking flutter by
season for saving scents

If you wish to write a poem today, please leave it in the comments and respond to other writers with encouragement.

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Stella sends me a heart through the window.

There’s a lot going on in the photo today. It’s not a great shot, but I love it for the action it conveys. I’m the shadow taking the photo. Stella, age 5, is showing me a heart through the glass. In the background, in typical fashion, Leo, age 7, is leaping. He was outside with his father helping with yard work (note the too big garden gloves.)

On Wednesday mornings I often have no real idea of what photo I will use as a poem prompt. I had forgotten about this one. What’s in my heart may not be in yours, but I hope you can find a way into writing. Please leave a poem in the comments and support other writers with your responses. All are welcome.

Your heart

Is in mine
nesting, nurturing,
urging me to capture
every moment
of your love,
through the window,
over my shadow
into my joy-glow.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Each Wednesday I post a photo that appeals to my poetic senses. I invite you to join me in writing a small poem, poem of presence, in the comments and support other writers with encouragement.

Today’s photo is by a local retired teacher photographer Lory Landry. We do not live in the Bluebonnet state of Texas; however, we have a neighbor who has successfully planted bluebonnets in a ditch near the road. I’m tempted every year to stop and romp through the flowers. It appears that Lory did just that and took her camera along. It takes a steady hand and skills to capture a busy bee.

Bluebonnets by Lory Landry

Starburst blooms bluest
blue, gathers spring energy
buzz-bee sips sweet dew

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

This photo I took of a visiting cardinal. As the day’s news gets more and more tragic, I turn to nature. Some southerners believe that when you see a red bird, you are visited by a lost loved one.

This morning in my email feed, I received the word of the day from Merriam-Webster, besotted: “Someone described as besotted is so in love that they are unable to think clearly.”

I thought Besotted would make a good title for a poem. This is a drafting post. If you are inspired by the photo, please leave your own poem in the comments and support other writers with positive comments.

Besotted

You
in your red cardinal coat
distract me
humble me
enamor me
Perched with pride,
you say,

“I am here.”

Margaret Simon, draft

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