The Poetry Marathon

Hour Five – Space in the Sun

Hour Five – Write a poem using at least 5 of the following 10 words/phrases.

Hardback, sunflower, knitting, cheddar cheese, space, wine glass, pavement, nail, oak, satchel

 

Their Space in the Sun

 

I pause in my mundane cause to look out.

Our neighbours, robust Scots in their eighties,

had brought a picnic out onto the pavement.

Possibly to catch the last rays of the day’s sunshine.

I could see her hand him cheddar ‘n ham sandwiches

before she went back to knitting booties for her fifth great grandchild.

He handed her lemonade in a wineglass before bringing out his

well-worn hardback Alistair MacLean from his better-worn satchel.

Even as the leaves on the old oak swayed the other way

to give them more space.

Their space in the sun.

 

Old Stories

I bound a book,
Hardback,
From the space we left between us.

I folded into the pages,
Oak leaves
And a sunflower, like in your photos.

I sewed the spine
Bright green,
With yarn from the knitting you taught me.

And instead of glue,
A nail.
The one we couldn’t find for our bookcase.

Hour 5 (2022)- Natural Serenity

With sunhat in hand I make my way

Beyond the edges of the pavement grey

I find a hidden forested space where

I sit myself to rest.

I lean back against an oak tree

Let my eyes wander to a scree

With grateful heart, I grab my satchel

As I sit myself to rest.

Out of my bag comes a wine glass

(to this venture I add some class)

A hardback book soon follows

As I sit myself to rest.

A sunflower is on the front of the book

And I nibble my nail and take a look

I grab some cheddar cheese to eat

As I sit myself to rest.

What a beautiful day to be alive

Instead of knitting, I chose to strive

To enjoy some time in nature

As I sat myself to rest.

Fragments of an Afternoon-Hour 5

I was sitting outside

In my old wooden chair

beneath my Grandfather’s Oak.

My own space of solitude.

I held my hardback on my lap.

It dangled precariously

a creased page

begging for my return.

I sipped on Chardonnay

The day fragrant and misty

The late afternoon silence

comforting, cradling me

A sunflower caught my eye

In nearly full bloom

Dancing in the stream of sunlight

It ducked, waved

It spun a perfect pirouette

I clapped involuntarily in response

The wine glass hitting the pavement

Shattering into a thousand purple fragments

that caught the sunlight,

Glittering, glistening

I let the wine seep into the cracks

Staining the cobblestone

Delighting a stream of ants

 

 

2022 Poetry Marathon, Hour 5

Hour five poem, from the prompts:

(more…)

The Prince Never Arrived

Dead vines encircled the tower
Once green, budding flowers, and thick thorns
Now withered, dry, and brittle
Half the bricks from the structure have fallen
Black vegetation still clinging

Above all, the princess still sleeps
Once dressed in a pure white gown
Now caked in dust, stained by sun and rain
Her face remains forever frozen in a state of youth
As the rest of her body wanes

Long ago there were hopes
A prince would come to break the enchantment
Take the princess as his wife
And carry her off to his kingdom
To live the fantasy

But the legend grew old
And with it, the location was mistaken
The trials to face exaggerated
And no one could remember why
The princess continued to sleep

What do you see from your window?

I see an empty sky, brown lawns,
I see a landscape without flowers
or trees —
just dust and fire.

The sun is blazing hot.

I see baby birds dying in their nests,
penguins washing up lifeless on the sand,
cattle dropping to the ground and
crops withering in the fields.

There is no more water.

I see a beautiful world pushed
to the point of no return,
and I see people
turning away from the images.

There is no other planet.

I want to open my window,
scream and plead:
time is running out,
we have to do something!

Our planet needs us and we need our planet.

The Archivist

Some may think of memories

Only covered in dust with

Pages fading into opaque forgetting

 

But memory doesn’t have to work like that

And if our honesty

Does not blur and fade

 

We find our memory

In shards of talk

In whispers and glimpses

 

You see, memory is a meal

Savory…bitter…sweet…salty

And water to cleanse the tongue

 

We make our memory

In shards of talk

“Remember that time…?”

Hour 5: Prompt 5: Lost in thought

The hardback chair feels like nails left upon the pavement

My wine glass sits perfectly on the table next to me as I stare into space

Wishing my life were full of more sunflowers and less rotten oaks

My satchel holds the knitting feeling I get when I gently pick up the debris left from the storm

Tomorrow will be better I always hope

Never knowing if my words will ever hold true

Impromptu Haiku

Knitting needles lock
Oak satchel sunflower hair
Space and time called kin