Stage Fright
The hands hover above the keyboard.
They hesitate to start.
They know the notes by heart,
but are afraid to touch the keys.
The hands hover, waiting for
the mind to let them play.
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Tuesday, May 30, 2017
Thursday, May 25, 2017
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
Lost
Lost
The old writer walked around.
Her pencil fell to the ground
and landed without a sound.
She conjured words so profound,
a poem she thought would astound.
Her pencil could not be found.
Sadness settled in her heart.
The lost art was what would hound.
This is a Welsh form: cyrch a chwta.
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Thursday, May 18, 2017
Potential
Potential
I have not
fully come
to life, but
I have more
than a start.
Enough blooms
to catch the
eye, but still
more to open.
Who knows?
They may be
the best of all.
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Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Summer's Song
Summer's Song
The roar of the mowers
forever fills the air.
Morning, afternoon and
evening, the tune
plays more often
than the hottest 45
did during the
payola scandals.
Time for us all to
take a few classes
and learn to plant
native grasses.
The prompt for this poem is forever.
Links
CloudBursT Jewish Poetry Event--May 21
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Favorite Photo
Favorite Photo
A mother chases her
toddler who runs
across the front lawn.
The scene is captured
in a photograph.
Years later, the former
toddler looks through
a box of old pictures.
She remembers the one
of the chase scene,
which is a favorite.
She notices several
other photos in which
someone seems to be
holding her in place.
She never has been
able to settle down.
The prompt for this poem was to choose a memory to write about.
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Tuesday, May 9, 2017
Life and Death
Life and Death
There is a beginning,
a heartbeat that starts.
What comes next
is a mystery.
Music and light,
silence and darkness
repeat in different measures.
The beginning leads to the end.
We don't know where or when,
but it is the one certainty.
This came from another two-for prompt.
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Thursday, May 4, 2017
The Last Hole
The Last Hole
It hasn't been a good day.
All your shots have gone astray.
On the greens, you can't read the break.
Each line you choose is a mistake.
This course has certainly taken its toll,
but now you're on the last hole.
You give some thought to the notion
of simply going through the motions.
Instead you decide to give it your all.
You have nothing to lose except another golf ball.
This was written for a fill-in-the-blank prompt.
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Tuesday, May 2, 2017
My Camera
My Camera
My camera is an
extension of me.
It lets me share
the things I see.
The drying bloom
hugs a bud.
Two trees form a
pair of parentheses.
Reflections in the water,
shadows on the ground.
The moon when it decides
to stay out until noon.
My camera helps me
show off my nature.
The prompt was to make an object the title of the poem.
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