The Poetry Marathon

“After all, tomorrow is another day.”

Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell did write.

Many readers over the book would delight.

Others waited for the story to come to movie screen,

Where Clark Gable would appear as a dream.

Another day given, choices to be had.

To be angry, to be happy, to be joyful, to be sad.

Some days it may be hard to get out of bed.

A struggle to find ways for in life to get ahead.

Another day to put one foot ahead of the other,

To share kindness, to choose to love one another.

The past can remind us of where we’ve been.

Another day comes for where we can make change,

Tomorrow’s a chance to be different, to hope once again.

The world outside the window changes every day.

The flowers bloom each spring, as the sun smiles their way.

There are insects crawling, searching for something to eat.

The birds sing in the trees a soothing song so sweet.

The world outside the window changes every day.

The squirrels scamper the fence line along the way,

Seeking a free meal from the tree or bird seed from a feeder or two.

The squirrels drive my cats and dog nuts, as they are prone to do.

The world outside the window changes every day,

Sometimes the rain is fast and furious, blowing angry spray.

Sometimes the rain is gentle, lulling me to sleep.

Sometimes the rain mirrors my mood when I long to weep.

The world inside the window changes often too.

Reminders come through little things to practice my gratitude.

The dog was a puppy at the rescue,

on the first day that we met.

The wrinkled face, the floppy ears,

She stole my heart with no regret.

I was nervous to bring her home.

What would my two cats think?

A wiggling ball of energy,

who I bathed in the kitchen sink.

The dog is now medium, friendly as can be.

She loves to play and zoom about the yard,

Chasing squirrels or birds who drop on by.

She’s not caught one yet thankfully,

Though she sure loves to try!

She loves to watch the neighborhood,

hoping for pets and treats.

The dog has helped me meet the neighbors.

She’s helped me make new friends.

She brings joy where ever she goes,

Her goofiness never ends.

You did not move to Georgia,

I asked every time we talked.

I never understood why you balked.

You did not move to Georgia,

though I longed for you to be here.

I never understood and sometime shed a tear.

You did not move to Georgia,

I could not raise you on the phone.

Your son, my brother, tried to reach you too,

though  we found ourselves alone.

You did not move to Georgia,

You went to heaven on instead.

I was not ready to say good-bye,

I sure miss you Dad.

Twelve poems, twelve hours, a victorious day,

writing with others, working on word play.

Stories told through prompts,

or a visit from inspiration’s muse.

The precious time spent with creative juice.

The gift of kindness from our hosts,

Inviting us back each year.

Allowing us to challenge ourselves, to improve and face our fears.

The full marathon continues for souls that are quite brave,

May your inspiration keep you through the night and on to the next day!

New Zealand tops the list for once upon a time,

I met a couple from there on a cruise and they were quite divine.

They often share photos of the beauty,

The skies are so sublime.

To walk through where they filmed, the Lord of the Rings,

The beauty and the wonder of nature kept pristine.

To wander where the elves did walk,

To quaff a pint of hobbit ale.

The adventures of the fellowship regaled many folk far and wide,

To travel to New Zealand, with dear friends, what an awesome ride.

Moments slip by in the blink of an eye,

Minutes to hours, then days have gone by.

Look up from your screen at the people who are near,

time is quite precious, let your feelings be clear.

Kindness is needed, treat others with respect,

Let’s be the difference that’s needed,

Let’s give others our best.

Coming to the cottage left a strange feeling.

The memories flooded through the treeline as the stifling summer heat wrapped me in a hug.

Playing spin the bottle with the neighboring children.

Laying in the hammock, trying to stay awake until the last firefly flitted away.

The first love, the first heartbreak, and now the last vacation,

The baby birds left the nest.

(six words)

The back window draws the cats  for daily views.

The squirrels scampering up the bird feeder pole,

Shaking sunflower seed to the ground,

The finches, the cardinals, the blue jays, the pigeons,

So many birds to fly around.

Paused at the window, ready to pounce only if they could.

Their tails twitch, excited meows they do make.

Then they turn and chase each other,

More energy to run and shake.

Later curled up in a ball, cat napping in comfy place.

College football, back to school, pumpkin spice for those who crave.

The reds, the oranges, the golden yellow, the changing of the leaves.

Art displayed in nature with the fall’s grand tapestry.

Hayrides, Halloween costumes, laughter up and down the street,

Children chasing for their candy delights, living life simple and sweet.

Cool crisp air replaces the sultry stifling summer days.

Wrapping with Thanksgiving a time to count blessings big and small,

One cannot help but love, the great season of the fall.