National Poetry Month, Nature, Ozarks, Spring

April National Poetry Month – day twenty-one #napowrimo #napomo

FullSizeRender (24)

I sit outside on my wooden deck
high in tasseled oak tree tops
overlooking Lake Ann’s sanctuary shores

Life draws me here . . .
like the call of a lone heron or the
delightful
sightings of returning birds
in full
migration

like calm gentle breezes
carrying soft Arkansas rains
rains
streaming over an open hand
then laying softly upon my finger tips

My favorite spot in the whole world
is here . . .
everchanging in every season
in every hour
in every light
in every darkness
in every sunrise
in every sunset
but all still the same

Tree frogs and bull frogs sounding their calls
like music melodies playing
all recognizable frames
from some now remembered childhood song

Beyond this place or time or space
a slightly new dimension evolves
beyond words, sight or sounds
untouchable
except in the now
this exact time
this exact moment

– living –

I’m surrounded by nature here
the trees are all around me
over the cove and mountain ridges
forested woodlands encircle Lake Ann
like a land bowl owned by the very sky
lands made up of a treasure trove in green
From Lancashare Irish green, to new shades unnamed

like a favorite Monet painting
revisited
sight unseen
yet familiar in every way

I can be here . . .
like a hearth’s burning wood fire
sustainable throughout the day
rebuilt again and again
so it lasts the whole night

– warmth –

I can be here . . .
like somewhere
understands
know’s you
get’s you
believes
in you

Where the storms come to die
and flashes right out of existance
suddenly passing

Where you regain your center
your bearings
your strength inside

– renewal –

like the gentle flutter of tender butterfly kisses
a soft call of prayers
a knowing of angels and God
all for being in such a place as this
where the world meets the divine
and your heart sees again

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