Monthly Archives: October 2015

Writing 201 Day 6: Face, Found Poetry, and Chiasmus

019

 Hidden Face

In fear of being singled out,

Teased and hurt all over again,

She keeps herself safely hidden.

She felt the need to hide her face

As if in some buried disgrace.

For in memory she is still haunted

With visions of being ridiculed and taunted

During her long ago school days

Where she would fall in a familiar maze

Of classrooms, corridors, and hallways.

She often fretted and wondered

Which unkind classmate was around the next corner?

So, even today she fears that same stabbing rejection

Although longing deeply for one true friend,

She remains ever quiet; hardly speaking.

How she has learned to hide her pain

With her solemn and non-committal facial expression;

In the midst of a crowd, she cleverly blends in.

She walks around town with

Her covered head tilted down,

Never looking up, never seeing

The sweet beauty of day or the warmth of the sun.

She misses the rainbow’s arching arm

In the quiet calm after a thundering storm.

She misses the watchful eagle

Sitting high on its rocky pinnacle

And his sudden majestic dive

As he soars through the sky.

He glides over the crystal blue river

Spying a fish swimming like a quiver.

Fear and lack of self-assurance prevent

 Others from seeing her true consonance;

The unique person she is meant to be and her

True personality ever so carefully

 Buried and shielded, so mysteriously.

But oh how she desires and longs to be

A courageous and different person, so free.

But that old foe, Fear, keeps her hemmed within

A deep darkness but soon a light does penetrate in

As one fine noon day, she decides s to be brave

Determining she had a new path; a new trail to blaze.

For it had occurred to her that she indeed had the ultimate choice;

She could remain always sheltered or make known her own voice.

As finally it dawned as she was quiet and reflective

To start thinking differently; a new perspective.

She realized that in the heart of the matter

It was she who kept herself so silently sheltered;

There was no one else but

Just her own timid self

Allowing her being to be trapped

By old recollections of her past

Which robbed her of joy for today

As deep inside, her spirit withered away.

 So she promised with a hint of trepidation,

But also with a note of celebration,

 “I’ll try, I’ll try today!

 to let my face be seen; not hidden.

Oh yes, my hidden face will be seen today.”

Becky’s Haiku: Harp and Clear

014

In the woods, I hear

 the musical harp of a

 lark so loud and clear.

 

I have just attempted yet another haiku challenge from Ronovan Writes blog using the words “harp” and “clear”. I am enjoying the challenge of trying to use such seemingly different and even opposite words in such a short poem. These prompts from Ronovan can really be a challenge to the mind.  If you like poetry challenges and haiku’s then I invite you to also accept his latest challenge at this link: https://ronovanwrites.wordpress.com/2015/10/05/

 

Writing 201 Day 5 Map, Ode, and Metaphor

052

Ode to a Journey to Wyoming

One day I awoke to prepare once again

To go on journey to visit my friend.

I have traveled this same route several years ago

But the adventure of going on a trip never grows old.

 twice I have endeavored on this solo journey of

Traveling from Minnesota to the land of Wyoming.

The familiar towns and landmarks along the way

Are dear old companions who greet me and wave

While silently proclaiming, “Yes we are still here;

So glad to see you travel our way this year.”

I passed through several small towns and by farmsteads too

And oh my, Lake Heron is a splendid sea of blue.

I drove by several state parks along the way

And note, “I must visit there on another day.”

The morning was full of bright, illuminating sunshine

As I drove along the interstate crossing the first state line.

Onward I drove with my intent eyes peering into the horizon

As I joyfully anticipated revisiting my high school friend.

And lo, how we both know that we don’t visit enough

As times can be hard and cost of travel just too much.

With the consistent rain through the summer months,

The ground has remained emerald green; deep and lush.

For usually, the further I journeyed westward from home,

The atmosphere became more and more arid while I drove.

But on this trek the land remained moist and green much longer

And I chose to enjoy this and not ponder and wonder.

So forward I drove and gladly journeyed

Into the horizon; a vast green and blue sea.

Near the end of the day my traveling was done

As I paused beneath the vaulted ceiling of a glowing sun.

While it slid down settling in the distant west,

I knew it was time for a long night rest.

I opted to stay at on a hilltop of green sloped wonder

In a motel overlooking the winding Missouri River.

For the wide flowing blue stream curved this way and that

With an iron scalloped bridge uniting one land mass to the next.

Next morning arrived and soon I was on the road

Anticipating new places to see and sights to behold.

“I can’t help it,” I chided myself with a frown,

“I must visit once again that old ghost town.”

Soon I found the right off-ramp and pulled in

And found myself wandering the old streets again.

I strolled past the old schoolhouse and the church too

Wondering what life was like back in say…1882.

I drove on nearing the Wyoming border

And noticed the rugged mountains coming closer.

After another long day’s drive,

To my friend’s house, I finally arrived.

I was there for a week, treasuring each day;

And we embarked on a few adventures along the way.

Such a sweet time to spend with a dear friend,

That my heart ached with sadness at the week’s end.

Turning around I started the long journey home

Thankful for friendship which nourished my soul.

So now, ode to a Journey I took to Wyoming,

I have a new treasure of memories inside of me.

Poetry 201 Day 4: Imperfect, Limerick, and Enjambment

453

Imperfect Journey

One bright

morning, I

ventured on a

long

autumn drive

To see

the vibrantly

changing

trees

along

the

riverside.

But this once

blissful

and

carefree

day was

marred

by

closed

lanes on

the highway

As rows of

cars

became

stuck, unable

to

move;

just

sitting

side by

side.

Poetry 201 Day 3: Skin, Prose Poem, and Internal Rhyme

041

A Day in the Sun

Skin; that external organ which covers my entire human body; it cleverly contains some small openings so that I can hear, taste, smell, and see. My skin is pale white and even paler under florescent light. How I sometimes do wish, I wasn’t as white as a fish. Certainly more sunshine would be good for me. Stay outdoors a little more during those sunlit hours and soak more of that sunshine into me; and let it cover my head to my feet. On a bright and beautiful day with the sunlight brightening the way, I did try to take some extra time and venture more outside. I wandered along the county road passing houses, a church, and the new high school.  I traveled to a nearby gym, walked on a track, pedaled on an exercise bike, and considered taking a swim.  Then I wandered back outside. Back into the glistening and warm sunlight which has brightened the sea blue sky. Deep inside I rejoiced as I felt gladness at this choice of spending this day outside being exposed to nature and the soothing sunshine.  I traveled along the road again at a leisurely pace and not really wanting my journey to end; there is no need to race. I heard the wind in the swaying trees and my bare skin was tantalized by the softly flowing breeze. In the spring if I am lucky enough, I might pass by a lilac bush, and oh how its aroma gives my senses such a rush. With the soft touch, my exposed skin feels the flower’s velvety coolness. Happily I tarried along the way not wanting to miss the warmth of this day.  For the sun’s reaching, transparent beams have engulfed my arms, my legs, and all of my bare skin from my head to my feet. Feeling satisfied and pleased, I think to myself, “how, I have had some warm sunshine covering me, and soon I’ll have a fine tan: I can’t wait to see.”  But lo, oh no that is not what I see. I looked into the mirror and much to my shock and horror; I am now as red as can be with my sunburned skin peeling most embarrassingly. Oh, woe is me!

Poetry 201: Gift, Acrostic, and Simile

015

Gift of the Changing SEASONS

Sunshine warmth, bright flowers, and long days

Evening walks beneath a canopy of an orange sunset glaze.

Afternoon sunlight dwindles and steadily shortens;

Soon brilliant and aromatic autumn marches in

Onward into winter’s snowcapes and then the newness of spring

Never halting, the earth’s vast landscape is forever changing.

Seeing Time like a friend as through life we continue journeying.

Welcoming AUTUMN

003

Acorns dropping from the old oak trees

Uncovered and bare branches sway in the chilly breeze

Thick needled pines remain a deep hunter green

Untouched by time and the approaching winter season

Maple, elms, ash, and birch all sway and soon follow suit

Now changing hues and peaking as their leaves drift upon my shoes.