The Poetry Marathon

If I listen to your song

Will you listen to mine?

If I expose myself to your kind

Will you do the same?

If a picture is worth those thousand words

And the picture on this cover is it

Dare I write that I am not interested

In things that look…weird?  

I shall listen to your song

And keep an open mind

And when it’s over?

Maybe I’ll respond again!

It’s dark in here

And narrow

I can’t seem to make headway

Because I cannot see

What’s in front of me

Or behind

If I stretch my arm out

What will it touch

I’m so afraid to find out

Yet I cannot be idle

Because the unknown

Is scarier than the truth

So I step forward, boldly

Only to have the darkness

Swallow me up

Was that a noise I heard

Or just my own heartbeat

Pounding mercilessly, loudly

If only there was light

A glimmer of hope

To light my path

To give me strength

If only it wasn’t so dark

Could I find my way

I was lying on the ground

My head in his lap.

Dazzled by his smile

I felt such bliss.

Someone uttered “Give him a kiss!”

And his eyes twinkled down at me;

That mischievous grin

that was always at the ready

I leaned up

Smooched him on the cheek.

“Aww.  Come on!” the others muttered,

And Bruce devilishly agreed.

He leaned his lips into mine

His beard scratchy against my face.

He kissed me like he meant it

And the crowd cheered.

Bruce Willis, you handsome fella

I believe you made me blush.

Even now as I recall that moment

My heart smiles in fondness for you.

I don’t know 

What would have happened next

Had I not awakened.

But sometimes . . . I wonder.

“What’s a nice girl…”

“Bug off!”

I glance outside as I pass the sliding glass door.

I see the gazebo, the grass, the windmill.

I seek out the sunflowers, for now there are two;

And my Rose of Sharon opened up today.

Clouds are sparse, the sky so blue.

No noisy neighbors mowing…yet.

Ever so gently the wind blows;

The birds sing.  Summer has arrived.

Prompt 2, Hour 2

Write a poem about magic. Magic as something real, magic as something imagined, magic in a fictional setting, magic in an urban situation, it can be about how children perceive the world as magic, or possibly magic, anything really. The word magic need not be mentioned, but it can be.

I don’t believe in magic and what some call fate

I don’t believe in knocking on wood

Nor crossing myself three times

I don’t believe that seeing a black cat brings me bad luck

Nor does spilling the salt

I don’t believe in wishing on a star

I don’t believe in curses, spells, or voodoo dolls

Nor karma righting all wrongs

I don’t believe Friday the Thirteenth is worse than any other day

Nor is Halloween a night for the dead to celebrate

I don’t believe staying healthy will add years to my life

I don’t believe eating an apple each day keeps the doctor away

Nor do I believe there isn’t a cure already for cancer

I don’t believe an annual mammogram is necessary

Nor do I need a yearly colonoscopy

I believe you can love more than one at a time, although not very well

I believe in love that never dies, that distance doesn’t separate

And I believe there are those who fall in love at first sight

I do believe in making every moment count

And I believe that love truly does conquer all

I am a lover not a fighter

I am one who cannot boast of fame

I am a poet and a writer

I am one who the world tried to tame

I am not to be taken lightly

Nor am I one to be overlooked

I cling to words and hold them tightly

Read my stories, I hope you’ll be hooked!

Hello, fellow writers!  I’d like to take a moment to introduce myself.

My name is Stefanie. You can call me Stef but when you notate me please please please spell my name correctly. It’s the only thing I can really call mine. Plus, it rhymes.  Stef with an f.  Easy, right?

Currently I am involved in a writing group, known as Foothills Writers. We meet each Wednesday for several hours as we endeavor to complete works that maybe have sat on the shelf for too long. Or perhaps timing has been off.  Nonetheless, we’ve decided now is the write time.

My husband recently retired. We are both 55 years of age. We have three grandsons whom we love dearly. We are finding what living is like on the slower side. You know, the kind where life doesn’t pass you by and you wonder where it all went but rather the kind where you sit. You ponder. You just be.

I look forward to the new challenges writing presents.  As I near the finish line for completion of my first planned published book, I am approaching it with caution and care.  What if no one reads me?  What if my stories aren’t as great as I believe them to be?

I also have a blog on Facebook: Wandering Through The Bible.  On June 19, it will be six years old.  Check it out!  I welcome new followers.

This is me in a nutshell. I hope the experience of joining this poetry marathon broadens my horizons and challenges me to stretch out in areas that previously I have not tried before. I also look forward to reading from others and being inspired by them.