Not All That Glitters
the ground sparkles
as if fairies visited
in the night
that glitter is not gold, but ice
you will take a fall
if you do not look closely
I wrote this on January 15, 2017, for prompt 169 from #poemtheme on Twitter. This will be my last post for National Poetry Month as I am not feeling well. It’s been a tough week but I have prevailed and life goes on.
summer night outside
neon pink sky in the west
I wonder where my brush is
Sometimes nature inspires me and I want to imitate it. Sometimes I just sit back and enjoy it. Does nature inspire you? How?
the sun rises
dianthus stars are open
night falls, they’re still open
The dianthus open and stay open despite the conditions around them. In fact, they may even stand up better at night. I know they look better after a light rain.
Blessed to us is the night, for it reveals the stars. -Anonymous
Yeah, the picture is blurry, but it’s the only one I have of a star.
Undone by a Word
My hair undone by a word
My dress undone by a word
The moon glows brighter
And the night quieter
Entranced by a word
I wrote this small stones poem for a Friday Phrases prompt on Twitter (#FP). I thought this month would be a good time to share it. Do you have any poems you’ve written about a single word?
Black and White
Dark and Night
With a little bit of grey between
Now the picture is complete
Now here I sit in the driver’s seat
I know the lies and truths of the world
Now I’m holding the biggest pearl
And now the world begins to whirl
Truths unseen have come to pass
Now who holds the unhappy lass
Today’s prompt and the last prompt that I’m going to do is “Where do you see your blog in one year? Five years?”
In one year my blog will still look the way it does now and it will still be on the same schedule. In five years I don’t know. I will still have this blog up and running and I will still be writing poetry so I will still be updating it. Will my book be published? Will I be writing completely different poetry? Will I write an eBook or start writing flash fiction regularly and sharing it here? I don’t know, stay tuned by following this blog through email, BlogLovin’ or the WordPress reader.
Emily wrote about death a lot, but you don’t really get tired of reading her poems because she does it differently than anyone else.
Let down the Bars, Oh Death –
The tired Flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat
Whose wandering is done –
Thine is the stillest night
Thine the securest Fold
Too near Thou art for seeking Thee
Too tender, to be told.
Once again, Emily Dickinson takes something everyday and makes it grand by her words.
I make His Crescent fill or lack –
His Nature is at Full
Or Quarter – as I signify –
His Tides – do I control –
He holds superior in the Sky
Or gropes, at my Command
Behind inferior Clouds – or round
A Mist’s slow Colonnade –
But since We hold a Mutual Disc –
And front a Mutual Day –
Which is the Despot, neither knows –
Now Whose – the Tyranny –
brisk night turns cold
my heels click on the sidewalk
Have you ever had a sense of deja vu?
my son cries
“don’t let the night end”
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