24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A super Blue Moon
I had never heard of a
Super Blue Moon
That comes round in August
August has two full moons
Their colours are not blue
But slightly grey and red
The second one is in Pisces.
Most Pisceans are happy
They are told they are lucky.
The downside is
That the next blue moon
Will come in 2037.
I will not be here to see it
I wish others joy and luck
A glass of wine and a piece of cake
For Blue Moon’s Sake!
Hour 11: Exploring Wonder – I have no idea what I planned when I was writing out these prompts – it made sense for linear progression at the time, but I have no idea what I was doing there or how this was the right place for this one, but I gave it my best and I’m being super stubborn (because I can be). And anyway here we are with prompts and poems and new subscribers and food and things – like actually showing up and being smart about it!
There really is magic
everywhere
you turn and exploring
wonder
is far more impressive than
which major cities you have
photos in.
You’re allowed to feel
whatever
you need to feel
always
but I don’t want to
die
and we have far too few
memories
for me to lose you so
soon
so you’re gonna have to keep
trying.
Because I am too
really.
-M. Rene’
going off to the flower nursery
to fill my empty garden with a mix of flowers
I have to start with a design
so much to consider
color scheme, height and sunlight
when and how long they will bloom
standing by itself, a flower is basically ordinary, lonely
if only one was planted, the garden would be sorrowfully sad
it has to be enhanced, livened up to be special, not ordinary
we need flowers to attract bees and butterflies
to flutter over my garden
kiss the petals as they pass
birds will sing sweet melodies
tell their secrets as they sway above
land on my flowers to chirp symphonic songs to one another
arranging the flowers is like a puzzle
each piece has to fit in just right
together they create an exquisite and extraordinary masterpiece
the marigolds are just yellow
My longest running study buddy is a support, and an absolute rock
As a child, a teen, a youth, a young person, and onwards in years
Has stood sentinel
Silent watchman
Witness to my widening mind and heart
Diligent in his duties
He has attended study halls and exams
He has traveled the length and breadth of the land
He has gone beside me through hardships unnumbered
Guard. Witness. Sentinel.
Friend.
Rock.
And I do mean rock… soapstone apparently.
Elementary school-me could apparently not be convinced to leave him behind.
Elementary school-me was correct
He’s not heavy… he’s my study-buddy. My rock.
Standing there, with your back to me, binocular eyes staring up at the trees
I startled you, as I was parking my bike
You smiled at me as I headed for the trail
which then seemed like I was following you
You broke the silence and asked if this was a trail
I told you it was the way to the trails, but not the trail trail
I smiled, turned, and kept walking
I should’ve stopped and told you what trail the wood thrush frequents
But I didn’t because I felt shy
Your smile caught me off guard
I didn’t want to fall in love again
Even though I did, I always do
Isn’t that what you’re looking for?
The elusive bird, we spend our days seeking
It’s the sighting that’s the thrill
I put my headphones on
disappeared into the darkness of the woods
On top of the plastic viking hat
The one with horns
That sits over the newton’s cradle
On top of the antique roll desk
Is a gold tinsel tiara
Child size – magical
It’s a good thing I have a small head
The leaves beckon and entice
with a splash of sunlight
before the damp woods surround
and their psithurism
becomes the pervading sound,
blotting out thoughts
while inviting adventure
with the whispering winds
of why not?
If I get a cell-
and I’m saying IF –
I’m very popular with the warden crowd –
you can’t outfit my cell in any more gold
than one of the Louies –
you know, the big ones before all the
head-chopping – what’d they call them?
Gillotines? Our friend Macron, he
should be scared they don’t bring that back.
So, let’s all take a bow of silence
for the real criminals.
What’d I say? A bow? Why not, they act like
royalty, maybe they could get a pardon for
their sins. Knock on King Charlie’s door
and demand a pardon.
No one’s ever going to believe
I’m the biggest sinner.
Not when you’ve got chumps like –
what’s up with Prince Harry?
Little Harry out writing nasty things about
his family?
What a shame, what a shame.
If that were my son, I’d
cut him off.
Talk bad about your own father?
No security detail for you!
That’s only fair.
And, I’d be the most secure in prison.
I don’t need a gang.
Secret Service
would be there in the shower, which –
I’m in talks – would be private.
And, maybe I’d get a suite. A prison suite.
I could still get things done.
I’ve been promising my many, many friends
as soon as I have time, I could write
my memoirs.
