The Poetry Marathon

Photo prompt Photo by Tim 
Forest Life 
Deep in the forest, where critters do live 
The Great Horned Owl hunts in the night
Deer Mice and Bats, Moths and Muskrats
Snakes and Grey Squirrels, Rabbits and Rats
All meals for his family back home in the hole. 

In the marshy wetlands more wildlife survive
The moose and her calf forage for food
Beside Beaver and Otters, Fishers and Mink.
Birds and Bugs, Turtles and Fish all make their lives
In the bogs and the streams.

High up in a tree or deep under ground
The birds in the air the fish in the stream.
They all have one enemy; defenceless against
It comes early in Spring, stays late in the Fall
Death by Wildfire is a very sad end.

Photo by Andrew Shaughnessy                                                                                                                  The Swiss Cowbells.

What a beautiful sound the Swiss cowbell

That echos in the Alps,

The Matterhorn; the pyramidal peak

Still challenges the brave.

The hiking trails where families go

On a Sunday afternoons,

The iron cowbells on leather straps

Are as old as time itself

In that peaceful land of Chocolate Mouse

And Bank Accounts.

With a copper cowbell in your bag

That sound will ne’er be lost.

(apologies to Clement Clark Moore)

Beet, jacket tremor bayou elbow lightbulb cinnamon bucket elk carport

Twas the night before harvest 

When all through the bayou

Not one elk was a’stirin, not one little boo 

The carport was lit by a single lightbulb

in the hopes that someone got home from the pub

The beet was all nestled in the jacket elbow

While cinnamon buns rose from the dough.

When out in the paddock there came such a tremor

I ran to the door holding my hammer. 

Image Prompt by Martin Torrez

( With apologies to Louis Carol)

“The time has come” the Walrus said

To talk of many things:

Of Wills—Estates —and who gets what—

And why there are no blinds-

And whether there’s hereafter. 

*************************************

What  does one leave in the winter of life?

Who are the friends  who make up this life?

When is it time to leave…. ‘A well lived life?’

Where will I spend the last days of my life?

Why is it  so complicated  to leave this life?

How we can leave with ‘Dying With Dignity?’

Ten years in the past

Young people in school

Fell in lust for each other

But how could it last?

The years quickly past

With studies and work.

The birth of two children

Sometimes  they clashed.

A new home in the Fort

New jobs for them both.

Children in school

They started to court.

With each falling-out

And each making-up

A bond they created

Without a knock-out.

With a Rose gold ring

They made big plans,

To show the world

“This is not just a fling.”

.

Image Prompt by Frank Ching

My world is getting smaller 

My patch, stitched down 

Wings now clipped

Walls closing in

Eyes dimming

Colours fading in the light

Now how fast or slow

          ‘Till

My fingers feel for

Silk, and sand

Seeing nubs of Brail.

Image Prompt Martin Torrez

Sunflowers

Yellow faces face the sun

 they

Sway in the gentle breeze. 

Life lived for oil and seed;

Their gifts at summers end

Gives meaning to their life.

 photo prompt by y-s

There once was a man on the trail

When at once it started to hail

Wth no place to run

And a hot cross bun

He said,” To hell with it let’s sail.”

9:00

Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago.

                                                                                              2013   

Recreating myself at seventy three 

New partner

New town

New friends

New skills

Asking, “Who am I?”

In repartee

 8:00 (Hour 1) Image PromptView Post

Lines of light on railway tracks

Can not hide the facts

The darkness holds.

The single light  that blinds the deer

The eerie blast that fills air and 

Echoes through the night