Yesterday’s prompt brought us to the half-way mark in the Poem-A-Day Challenge. Yay for us! Only thirteen days left. We can do this!!
For Day #14’s prompt, we are given the word “nocturnal.” Many of nature’s beings are driven by the night. We have both dogs and cats in our household. The dogs sleep on their people’s schedule. Not so much the felines, which makes them an appropriate subject of my haiku for today’s prompt.
THE NATURE OF CATS
Nocturnal creatures
romp through their darkened playground.
At sunrise, they crash.
Spark you creativity every week by working your way through the alphabet: one letter, one week at a time.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Day #13 - MOLTEN (for July 18, 2010)
Day #13 of the Poem-A-Day Challenge gives us the word: molten. Now, I know “molten” is most often associated with volcanoes, but anyone who knows me is aware of my need to forage for food. No surprise, then, at my poetic attempt for this prompt!
ODE TO THE MOLTEN CAKE
It sits there in its pristine form,
a chocolate lover’s dream.
But once the fork has broken through,
a lovely, chocolate stream
of rich and gooey fudge-like sauce
flows freely from inside.
Enjoy this molten lava cake,
where calories abide.
ODE TO THE MOLTEN CAKE
It sits there in its pristine form,
a chocolate lover’s dream.
But once the fork has broken through,
a lovely, chocolate stream
of rich and gooey fudge-like sauce
flows freely from inside.
Enjoy this molten lava cake,
where calories abide.
Day #12 - LOBE (for July 17, 2010)
At Day #12, we have the prompt: lobe. Not that many places to go with this, and one of Lynda’s more difficult word selections. But I was fascinated this week by a restaurant server who seemed to have little bits of jewelry coming out of every conceivable, visible place (and I didn’t want to think of the invisible places). Sometimes, I appear to be a grumpy, old lady … and sometimes I really AM a grumpy, old lady.
PIERCED PARTS
What is this fascination
with body mutilation
in places holes are not supposed to be?
The trend goes round the globe,
and not just in the lobe.
They’re piercing things we’re not supposed to see!
PIERCED PARTS
What is this fascination
with body mutilation
in places holes are not supposed to be?
The trend goes round the globe,
and not just in the lobe.
They’re piercing things we’re not supposed to see!
Day #11 - KIPPERS (for July 16, 2010)
I don’t profess to know how Lynda’s mind works. So I have no explanation (or any apology) for Day #11’s prompt: kippers. All I can say is “have fun with it.” I tried to!
KIPPERS FOR BREAKFAST?
On a trip once to Merry Old England,
a big English breakfast I ate.
Boiled egg with strong tea,
but no kippers for me,
though the hot, crispy rashers were great!
KIPPERS FOR BREAKFAST?
On a trip once to Merry Old England,
a big English breakfast I ate.
Boiled egg with strong tea,
but no kippers for me,
though the hot, crispy rashers were great!
Day #10 - JACK
The prompt for Day #10 is: jack. At Dictionary.com, there are 30 definitions of this word, some of which I'd never heard of before. When choosing which one to use, I kept coming back to an idea that sparked the poem below. Perhaps a sense of nostalgia for days that were or should have been contributed to my effort for today.
JACK AND BOB AND TEDDY
Jack and Bob and Teddy,
a band of brothers three.
The eldest, Joe, died in the war,
to keep his country free.
And then, stood Bob and Teddy,
a band of brothers two.
A killer’s gun took Jack away
before his job was through.
And then alone stood Teddy,
the last remaining son.
His brother Bob fell victim
to another selfish gun.
And through his years remaining,
the youngest Kennedy
worked hard for silent voices,
to win them liberty.
Jack and Bob and Teddy,
a band of brothers three.
They strove throughout their lifetimes
to keep this country free.
JACK AND BOB AND TEDDY
Jack and Bob and Teddy,
a band of brothers three.
The eldest, Joe, died in the war,
to keep his country free.
And then, stood Bob and Teddy,
a band of brothers two.
A killer’s gun took Jack away
before his job was through.
And then alone stood Teddy,
the last remaining son.
His brother Bob fell victim
to another selfish gun.
And through his years remaining,
the youngest Kennedy
worked hard for silent voices,
to win them liberty.
Jack and Bob and Teddy,
a band of brothers three.
They strove throughout their lifetimes
to keep this country free.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Day #9 - ISLAND
I had little trouble with the prompt for Day #9: island. At some point, every day, I find my thoughts driving to a tropical location with white sand, warm sun, and gentle breezes. Instead, I'm sitting in my office, staring out a window at summer thunderstorm skies, waiting for the downpour. Thank goodness for dreams!
ISLAND TIME
The sun sitting over the ocean.
The sound of an island steel drum.
The seagulls above gently soaring.
My glass filled with rich, island rum.
The ocean is doing its bidding.
It’s calling my name loud and clear.
But swimming takes way too much effort.
I’m more inclined just to sit here.
From here, I can watch all around me.
From here, are the sounds of the sea.
From here, is the fresh smell of ocean.
And all come together for me.
Renewing the best that is in me,
the pace of this place never stops.
The days of unwinding are endless.
The dress code requires flip-flops.
Bring me one more bottle of lotion.
Bring me one more drink with a lime.
With sand in my toes, I’ll keep dreaming
of more days in sweet island time.
ISLAND TIME
The sun sitting over the ocean.
The sound of an island steel drum.
The seagulls above gently soaring.
My glass filled with rich, island rum.
The ocean is doing its bidding.
It’s calling my name loud and clear.
But swimming takes way too much effort.
I’m more inclined just to sit here.
From here, I can watch all around me.
From here, are the sounds of the sea.
From here, is the fresh smell of ocean.
And all come together for me.
Renewing the best that is in me,
the pace of this place never stops.
The days of unwinding are endless.
The dress code requires flip-flops.
Bring me one more bottle of lotion.
Bring me one more drink with a lime.
With sand in my toes, I’ll keep dreaming
of more days in sweet island time.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Day #8 - HECTIC
Our prompt for Day #8 is: hectic. Sometimes, our lives seem jampacked with things that must be done. We run from here to there and back again. How do you interpret the prompt? If you're like me, you're well acquainted a daily, hectic schedule. Here's my offering for today's prompt:
HECTIC PACE
I thought I was retired.
A magazine to prepare,
A radio show to write.
One book to promote,
another to create.
And what about the poetry prompts?
Mercy, mercy, me!
Should this hectic pace continue,
I’ll need to retire from retirement.
But what can I do
when those things that take so much time
are the things I so love doing?
Hectic my life may sometimes be,
but it’s a life I wouldn’t trade for anything.
HECTIC PACE
I thought I was retired.
A magazine to prepare,
A radio show to write.
One book to promote,
another to create.
And what about the poetry prompts?
Mercy, mercy, me!
Should this hectic pace continue,
I’ll need to retire from retirement.
But what can I do
when those things that take so much time
are the things I so love doing?
Hectic my life may sometimes be,
but it’s a life I wouldn’t trade for anything.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Day #7 - GOWN
Seven days into the Poem-A-Day Challenge brings us the next poetry prompt: gown. This is one of those prompts that caught me staring at my computer, confident that I would never be inspired. But somewhere, from my inner muse, the following found its way onto the page.
THE WEDDING GOWN
The gown, itself, was lovely.
A beauty to behold.
It brought to mind the future
and dreams that would unfold.
But something stole the moment --
a hidden lie ungloved.
The gown hangs in a closet now,
abandoned and unloved.
THE WEDDING GOWN
The gown, itself, was lovely.
A beauty to behold.
It brought to mind the future
and dreams that would unfold.
But something stole the moment --
a hidden lie ungloved.
The gown hangs in a closet now,
abandoned and unloved.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Day #6 - FRAGILE
As we come to the prompt for Day #6, we are faced with a variety of choices for inspiration. Many things are fragile: glass and china, to name but a few. But, perhaps, the most fragile thing of all is our heart. Which is where I drew my inspiration for today.
THIS FRAGILE HEART
My heart was often broken,
Its pieces cracked and chipped.
In seeking out relationships,
my quest was always gypped
from finding what I looked for,
until you came my way.
And now this fragile heart of mine
grows stronger every day.
THIS FRAGILE HEART
My heart was often broken,
Its pieces cracked and chipped.
In seeking out relationships,
my quest was always gypped
from finding what I looked for,
until you came my way.
And now this fragile heart of mine
grows stronger every day.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day #5 - ELITE
The A Muse Fuse Poem-A-Day Challenge greets Day #5 with the poetry prompt “elite.” Of all the things I could be called (and there are a great many!), elite is certainly not one of them. Which is why, I guess, I’m on my poor man’s soapbox, waxing poetic about the haves and have nots, with my offering for today.
NOT THE ELITE
I’m not one of the elite.
I’m really kind of ordinary.
No private education.
No six figure income.
A house and bank account
that both show signs of wear.
In my life, I find contentment
through the simple act of being
with the love I cherish,
and enjoying the abundance of blessings
that are showered upon me daily.
I’d rather look up toward the heavens
than look down at the earth below.
NOT THE ELITE
I’m not one of the elite.
I’m really kind of ordinary.
No private education.
No six figure income.
A house and bank account
that both show signs of wear.
In my life, I find contentment
through the simple act of being
with the love I cherish,
and enjoying the abundance of blessings
that are showered upon me daily.
I’d rather look up toward the heavens
than look down at the earth below.
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