A southern glance to a blue silhouette Delivers a heartfelt message: Return home to the Ponderosa pines, to scents of vanilla. Settle into the mountain valley, Hike the winding trails, Sit a spell, Breathe in the earth’s aromas, Listen to the mountain’s music— Wind rustling through pine boughs, Birdsong fills the air. Watch shadows dance as the sun peeks through, And wait for the forest folk to appear.
Deer grazing in a mountain meadow, Chipmunks darting about, And then, she emerges— Walking with her cubs. She hesitates, sensing your presence, Time slows, eyes meet, Hearts race. She takes a step, Then pauses, Calling softly to her family.
Climbing to a southern exposure, She rests while her cubs play, Content, she purrs. Time slips by, Unnoticed.
For today’s prompt, write a foolish poem. The poem could be about a fool, about being fooled, about fooling someone, or whatever other foolish direction you wish to take it.
The 7 in 7 poem challenges writers to pen just one line a day. I focused on an individual I know that is overcoming a painful past. This week old issues resurfaced, and I watched from the sidelines, astonished by the pain inflicted and her courage during her time of healing.
My 8x great grandmother, Anne Bradstreet, wrote poetry during the seventeenth century, and she became known as one of America’s first poets. Although she was born in Northhampton, England, in her later years, she resided in Andover, Massachusetts.
One of her poems, In Reference to her Children, the mother and poet wrote about her her love for eight children.
Her first book of poetry, The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung up in America, was published in 1650. It was the only book of her poetry printed in her lifetime.
in my thoughts i long to show the world the real me but hesitate from fears of rejection and ridicule…my past still haunts and whispers “you will never measure up…”its words keep me locked in a prison i know is of my own making, believing the thoughtless lyrics like a recording of a song…so i put on a mask and costume to breeze through this world and feign a wondrous show of a life held together by broken hearts and dreams…
“There are two lasting bequests we can give our children: One is roots, the other is wings.” Teaching children values and giving them the opportunity to excel is essential to good parenting. However, I feel I must also provide my children (and myself) insight into the ones who came before us: our ancestors whose lives and stories have shaped us into who we are. This is my journey; these are their stories…