The Poetry Marathon

(a combination of prompts 16 & 21 for Hour 21)

By Sandy Lender

Did I tell you today how awesome you are

How much I admire and adore you

Did I tell you today how cute you are

How your every movement makes me smile

Did I tell you today your voice is a song that brings joy into my life

How each mutter is adorable

Did I tell you today how you delight me

How your presence is all I need to get through

Did I tell you today how thankful I am

How glad I am to have 19 years of memories of you

(from the hour #20 prompt)

By Sandy Lender, attributing it to Nigel Taiman in my world of Onweald

When I awoke today the suns didn’t rise

Darkness clouded every valley

I had only to pick one to fall into

When I awoke today your end was still real

Dezurine wept for our souls together

And the army of Arcana dispersed

In despair

Your quest may be mine now

And I’ll do what you’ve asked of me

Because I love you like the suns that will never rise again

And I love you like the valley clothed in darkness

Yet I grieve with the anguish of The Dragon

I could fill another river with my tears

And dip you ’neath its rapids to heal you

If it means the suns will somehow rise again

Lighting the valley left around us

So I can see when you return to me

(off of prompt #1)

By Sandy Lender

“First of all, it’s self-published,” he denounced

lifting warmed brandy to his leather lips.

His captured audience twittered obediently

while we waited for his second point of derision

watching his Adam’s apple bob above his pleated ascot

Another question from a worshiper

Another answer thick with sarcasm

Like a layer of fondant

Meant to cover a gouge

In an already leaning tier

When I could stand the sharpness of his barbed tongue no longer,

I led my friend away from the mini scene of carnage

Took Lakita to an adjoining room

Where women spoke of Michelangelo

and refractive colors in beach sunsets,

where I doubt the professor would mar his polished loafers.

I patted her wrinkled hand

Smoothed her pleated hair

Offered her champagne from tall glasses

Spoke of her successes

(of which she has many)

My reassurances—piled, towering, toppling off my side of the scale

Still weighed less than the single judgment of the orator in the room next door

And this frustrated me.

Why could she not see…

Her worth

Her value

Her perfection

Cannot be dismissed by a professor who doesn’t know her struggles

Cannot be judged by an institution mired in supremacy since its founding

Cannot be ignored by any of us eating peaches in our older years

Lakita thanked me—with her usual stoicism—for accompanying her that night

And we went out into the humid streets

Where fog wrapped ’round our feet

And we vowed to write about the reception

(Whether our words made it to the Yale University Press or not)

(hour 18)

By Sandy Lender

Like sunshine streaming through clouds

…after forty days of torrential storm

Like the first absence of throbbing

…after the pounding, constant migraine

Like the gentle brush of butterfly wings

…after fire has consumed the world around us

Is the comfort of knowing you petition for me

…in the presence of our Father.

(from prompt 17)

By Sandy Lender

Having completed my poem,

I set down my pencil…

…and it rolled…

…

… …from the table’s edge

… … …to break on the floor…

Inquisitive eyes

Iridescent jade feathers

Wisdom in soft purrs

(hour 15)

By Sandy Lender

When they’re the size of a quarter

You can’t sex turtles

So she’s been named Josh all her life

That’s thirty-two years now

Some of them better than others

Thanks to my financial highs and lows

And my understanding of turtle nutrition

She went to college with me

I joke that Josh is prob’ly the only RES with a BA

I built her a horse-trough pond in the back yard

With fencing around & above to keep out osprey

Because she’s a girl, she’s large

But still…

This spring, she produced an egg

No boy turtles involved

No winter hibernation beforehand

No special foods introduced to her diet

You can imagine my surprise

I dove into pet-turtle-owner panic

Of course…

How much calcium should I now add to her daily intake?

How much more UV light does she now require?

Why on Earth did she wait until 2020 to do this?

Or maybe it’s because of 2020

I mean…

Knowing the egg to be infertile,

I scooped it out and cleaned it up

I shall display it in a shadow box

Proudly…

Because my Joshua laid an egg.

(using prompt 14)

By Sandy Lender

It occurred to me

How amazing God’s love

That when He formed the world

When He molded the Earth

With its hills, valleys, rivers, streams

He elected to let Calvary stand

It occurred to me

How amazing God’s grace

That when He shaped the clay

Smoothing its imperfections

Perhaps He paused over the lump

Where He allowed Calvary to stand

It occurred to me

How amazing God’s plan

That despite our hatefulness

And the horrors we inflict daily

Upon His world, His son, His creation

He made a way to let Calvary stand

By Sandy Lender

Even though lately you’ve been looking at storm clouds

I need to share with you a statement out loud

Reminding you there’s more than silver linings

That glimmer is the sun that’s back there shining

The raindrops you’ve been focused on

Make way for blooms and birdsong

Let me share

They’ve been there

All along

Mariposa breezes gently blowing

Swirl aside your gloomy gloaming

And let me spread a smile with you

Set alight a laugh or two

Remind you of the good and cheer

The bright, the light, the sight of cheer

When you put aside the clouds a while

When you shout aloud the good a while

Accentuate the positive

And see the right and good to give

That glimmer is the sun that’s shining

Reflecting off a silver lining

From Prompt 12, my line is “It’s rare that a story begins at the beginning.”

Martini Splash

By Sandy Lender

Amid the laughter and clanking of glasses

Over the jazz, but under the radar of my BFF,

Aqua Velva touches my arm like he knows me.

Just my luck,

Mr. Touchy is one of those rare gents who thinks the words

“no, thank you”

mean “at least buy me a drink.”

Like I’m gonna take a drink from a stranger.

A drink that has a darker color than his own.

Stay six feet back, buddy,

Or I’ll drop this mask and sneeze directly on you.

(And your martini-of-questionable-hue.)

The over-cologner says “that’s not a nice beginning to our story.”

I tell him it’s how “our” story begins, middles, and ends.

Saved by my BFF’s return,

Mr. Touchy preps to turn away,

But I can’t (with good conscience) let him take his suspect cocktail into the buzzing crowd.

Oopsadaisy! My mistake!

Well, that’ll just cover that 1970’s aftershave, won’t it?