Your love is
sewn into my pocket
stitched between my seams
embroidered on my psyche
threaded through my day
tying me in knots.
poem- angel April 29, 2014
She stepped from
behind the mystery
enveloped our
complicated history
Buried us in
the depths of her mercy
unravelled the strings
of our worry,
spun us in from
exile at the periphery,
and celebrated our
joyful new liberty.
poem- unfolding April 28, 2014
The birch trees
are splattered with new green.
Buds like pretty envelopes, unfold
to reveal letters greeting
summer.
poem- quilted drive April 15, 2014
I drive a lime aphid
along a grey ribbon,
through rippling hills
and valleys of
green velvet
along teal satin waters
beneath a blue silk sky
dusted with tufts of batting fluff.
.
.
(The aphid is actually a Beetle, but the colour is right). 😉
poem- story girl April 14, 2014
The narration of your life
reads like a psychological thriller:
danger around every corner,
tension ramped to pain,
each character a potential villain
set to betray you,
and you’ve been betrayed, I know.
You’ve built your fortress
high and wide
and peek over cautiously
in your dark camouflage,
searching for the enemy
ready to defend
the small safety zone
you’ve carved for yourself.
You will survive,
because the protagonist
must overcome.
On the power of your words,
your resilience will rise
above the tormented tragedy
of your history
and you will embrace the destiny
that awaits your discovery.
I believe in your joyfully
mundane denouement.
poem- beginning April 12, 2014
When we’re beginning
we celebrate the possibility
embrace the new
dream of what’s ahead.
Now we’re beginning
new challenges enfold
new priorities take precedence
new adventures await.
We’re beginning a new journey
into the unknown
with new travelling companions
and a goal on the horizon.
We’re beginning
alone and together
good shoes for the soles,
ready for whatever comes,
one step at a time,
onward.
poem-duck advice April 10, 2014
Duck:
observe the legato ease of
geese relaxing in their Vs,
or eagles, reaching out their sides
to slice the skies,
even the tiny wren flies
from tree to tree efficiently,
but you,
you flap
over-happily
like a rattlepated,
frenzied drunk,
Duck.
poem- real estate April 8, 2014
The Canada Geese
have taken up penthouse accommodations
in the osprey platforms.
Two lady geese on two platforms
watch the cars pass on the highway
enjoying the view,
liking this nest.
They’re distant neighbours
proud to be moving on up.
I wonder how that will go
when the ospreys return?
.
.
(Ospreys are raptor type birds that like to live beside lakes and rivers where they are avid fishers, are partial to building their huge nests on the T-bars of power poles. The hydro company and/or local naturalists, build platforms beside tempting poles to relocate them to safer premises. The ospreys will return to these nesting sites year after year. Apparently, the geese like them, as well! This video is from the other side of the country, back in 2011)
poem- when did I become a poet? April 6, 2014
When did I become a poet?
Was I not born a poem
Washed into the world on sorrow & pain
Spun thru desire?
Do poems require words
or only bodies?
Each life is a poem
unfolding without words
that every lover reads
and feels deep in the soul.
Every mother is a poet,
birthing baby poetry.
For
We are born as poems.
.
in lieu of the Golden Shovel poem I meant to post from yesterday’s NaPoWriMo prompt. I’m still not finding a poem I want to use as the inner poem. I wonder if a stanza of another poem will suffice? Otherwise I’m looking at mile long poems!
Shawn L. Bird 