A pantoum for a winter evening
Soft snow falling
Mysteries in hidden faces
Lost memories calling
Eyes whisper with brief gazes
Mysteries, hidden faces
Warm glances, tender touches
Eyes whisper with brief gazes
Sweet comfort, hesitant rushes
Warm glances, tender touches
Fire crackles, hearth heat
Sweet comfort, hesitant rushes
In the silence, our hearts beat
Fire crackles, hearth heat
Lost memories calling
In the silence, our hearts beat
Soft snow falling.
Cheque at the lawyer’s
New occupants.
One more slice of the past snipped.
My parents’ gone
now their last house, too.
The morning skies were grey
but they saw the sashay
and knew it wasn’t a day
to stay that way, you
might construe something at play,
but my boots made the sky turn blue!
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FWIW- I was wearing my purple velvet, sparky embossed leather and black patent leather Fluevog Atria boots today. No such thing as ‘too much.’ 😉
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(Ignore any ads added by WordPress. They’re not endorsed by me, unless, of course, you see a Fluevog ad! In which case, very much endorsed. 🙂 )
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Once again
the adage’s proven true,
when you point at someone,
three fingers point back to you.
What you’re calling out
is probably your issue, too;
the louder you shout,
the clearer the cue!
The house echoes.
Drapes she made hang on the windows,
the last pieces of her here,
except
the lingering scent of bread baked
months ago, as
her last messages of appreciation,
her last independent acts.
Something is missing from my life:
the crack of the ax
winter’s firewood piled high
wood smoke rising from a chimney
the snapping from the grate
heat sinking into the bones
live fire, primordial comfort,
on a cold night, its golden, spitting light
shadow painting a picture of all we
require.
(These were fun demos written with my students as we worked through some poetry devices on “Poetry Friday-the Wednesday edition”)
Super stinky socks
So easily knee socks crease
Stinky socks stick to my shoes
They slurp when I pull them out.
But say! My socks still rock!
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Socks are mittens for feet
Comfort like a warm fire in winter.
My wooly socks hug my feet
My silent shout of happiness
declares my stinky socks the finest perfume in the world.
I like my socks.
(Can you find assonance, alliteration, consonance, hyperbole internal rhyme, metaphor, onomatopoeia, oxymoron, personification, simile, and understatement?)
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(ignore any ads placed by WordPress. I do not endorse them)
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sometimes it’s ALL about the shoes.
‘Cause daring to wear those shoes
is daring to celebrate your self
your passion
your individuality.
I wear wild and funky shoes
because it’s about me in the shoes
and what they tell everyone else.
It’s definitely about the shoes.
Believe it.
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(and that is the whole premise behind the Nikki Knox stories! Check the link above if you love great shoes, too!)
The clouds have come to Earth,
obscuring our panorama
narrowing the perspective
until the view is simply you and me:
this nebulous emergence,
hope and mystery.
A leaf grips tight
to where it sprung,
all through the summer storms.
But when autumn comes,
a leaf’s released,
to discover sky and more.
Shawn L. Bird 