Lasting smile
lingering
memory.
You and I
lakeside walks
sunset dreams.
What once was:
happiness.
Now a void.
.
A tricube: 3 stanzas of 3 lines with 3 syllables each.
Lasting smile
lingering
memory.
You and I
lakeside walks
sunset dreams.
What once was:
happiness.
Now a void.
.
A tricube: 3 stanzas of 3 lines with 3 syllables each.
I heard your name
calling to me from long ago.
I heard your name,
(Oh, that melancholy refrain!)
whispering words so soft and low,
memories I need to let go.
I heard your name.
This poetry form is called a ‘rondelet’ and plays with an A/B rhyme, lines of 4/8 syllables, and a repeated refrain (as you can see!).
Geese call
mournful fly past.
The year is reborn
Why does my heart
hear autumn’s sorrow?
To write a poem each day
requires a better memory than I have
A hole in the calendar.
An attempt at restitution.
Something
is not always better
than nothing.
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.
My father’s ashes are beside me. Once
Every day was Father’s Day,
Now every day he’s absent,
But every day he’s here.
Love never dies.
Devotion binds fond memories;
so long as we remember him,
it’s always Father’s Day.
You drive away after a visit.
“He got his licence back!”
“That’s great for 101!”
“No! He’s 105 now!”
“and blind!”
Oh, dad.
Thanks for stopping by
to make me laugh
in dreams.