National Poetry Month, Uncategorized

National Poetry Month ~ April

Day 23#

Today I spotted our first hummingbird for the season!

Put up feeders last week because usually they have arrived here the second week of April. One week late this year ~

Spring migrations
Late year expectations
Timing

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National Poetry Month, Uncategorized

National Poetry Month ~ April

Where do you want to go?
Down the road ~
Just where I can roam ~

Down an open road ~ where I can hear ~
The call of the mountains
From open valleys to hills on every horizon

The call of driving underneath big blue skies
From floating down roaring rivers to stepping across streams

The call of open prairies & desserts too
From walking on board walks through marsh lands to seeing the stars over canyon walls

I want to go ~
Down the road ~
Just where I can roam ~

#amwriting #napomo #napowrimo

National Poetry Month, Poetry, Written for NaPoWriMo

The Gift

Day 5 — Writing with NaPoWriMo prompts for April National Poetry Month

This form was invented by Terrance Hayes in his poem, The Golden Shovel. The last word of each line of Hayes’ poem is a word from Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem We Real Cool
I am using The Sparrow from The Bible and then using the last word in each line creating my new poem for today.

THE SPARROW
1
The sparrow hath found an house,
And the swallow a nest for herself,
Where she may lay her young.

THE GIFT
1
The gift of coming home framed, by your mother the-sparrow
Something rich between you hath
Always noticed like a brand new penny found
Busily building a new Sparrow’s nest an-house
Even as the neighbor and-the-swallow
Finds a lovely mountain tree and the safety of a-nest
Sound the trumpets, ring the bells not for-herself
But the love given freely even where
It is never expected, in return she
And the love between mother and daughter may-lay
Golden crowns around her head and her
Own soul rises forever young

National Poetry Month

Moments Held Close

Day 2 – for National Poetry Monthphoto (42)

my morning’s rise
a muted sun sits behind a humid sky
I gently and slowly glide

into the warm spring air
walking out along the Ozark ridge
a rich pagent of nature in prime-time

new jewels of golden crowns
play hide-n-seek down
by the woodland trees

high in the tree tops
squirrels play an extreme game of tag
even sleepy-eyed pops

two neighborly ravens mightly fly
through the cove
awakening predestined May flies

with promises of warm spring air
in the ease of close moments held
I find me in my nesting chair