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 More poems for Promptly Poetry, stuffed into this book because I have reached my limit. |
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Prompt: (verb) to move to action Promptly: (adverb) : very quickly or immediately Poetry: a form of writing that no one ever reads |
| Winter took my little hope and buried it deep beneath the snow unspoiled, untried, on ice it kept dreamless and still while it slept. Spring stirred its slumbering passion newly clothed in flamboyant fashion nudged that hope from its dormant state but for full bloom it had to wait. Summer mornings with dew that glisters increase the heat until it blisters hope raises up in this incubation no longer hidden in isolation. Autumn cools its hot desire the trees wave flags of leafy fire each hope takes flight, then descends to slumber ‘neath the snow again. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)"  Prompt/Week # 34 Use the following words in your poem: Winter * Spring * Summer * Autumn |
| It was in a lift that we met he was a stranger, I was strange. I was pressing buttons, in hopes that the scene would somehow change. He cast a quizzical gaze at my constellation of lights, I whispered my secret. “ I know,” I said, “the mysteries of the night.” His face then changed eyes wide with admiration. He listened as I explained the world’s true foundation. “I can stop time.” I told him. and hit the red button to prove it. “Are you a philosopher?” he asked “or a celestial poet?” When the doors finally opened he ran from my sight disappeared like a cloud of smoke into the mysteries of the night Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Week 33 and "PromptMaster !" Week 3 Prompt AprilPromptly Poetry Prompt Use this title for this weeks poem: Mysteries of the Night Promptmaster Prize Prompt: The most absurd thing to say that is likely to make a mysterious stranger think you’re a poetic genius. |
A boogery thing to behold Is my nose running from the cold The snot is bright green But it can’t be seen If I give the tissue a fold Week 32 Prompt - Limerick Sorry,but I have a cold and don't feel springy or limericky, just icky. |
| I dreamed of Spring sprung so newly, Fresh upon my skin like a cool mist, With a cheeky air and a gentle kiss, Making both me and my hair act unruly. I lifted an umbrella as the rain poured down, Proud of my plastic coat and galoshes, I danced to the rhythm of its splish and sploshes, yet wondering, why I was in my nightgown? That is the nature of dreams, you see - strange details and far out notions affecting the brain like some magic potion - Upon waking, I am not even sure it was me. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt - photo of girl with plastic umbrella in the spring rain |
Spring’s an ardent but inconstant lover, She promises the sunrise each morning. Then with peevish clouds and frowns she covers, Its light and the source of earth’s warming. Spring tends to the flowers with which she woos, Shyly offers a tulip with muddy hands, Teases the bees with their sunny hues, And coaxes the crocus from forgotten lands. Spring makes her promises of loving care, Cries soft tears over her tender blooms. Then suddenly, with a petulant air Lifts her skirts and storms out of the room. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Week 30 - Anticipation of Spring |
One dark and frozen February morn - persistent, but yet faint through double panes - trills the long absent music of birdsong, awaking me with its familiar strains. Emerging then, from my quilted cocoon, unwrapped, but clad in flannel head to toe. Drawn by the sweet warbles of a soft croon, I search for the singer by my window. February, your wind unforgiving steals every warmth the sun strains to provide. Tell me, where can my spring birds be living? Where in this icy wasteland can they hide? By day, they scavenge, preparing their nests, at night, in secret hollows do they rest. Written for "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT " Prompt/Week # 29 Use this title for your poem: Ode to February |
I often spy things floating by in my left eye. They aren’t really there in the glare. I stare, beware. Prompt/Week # 28 Form: Quadrette First four lines word count: 1-2-3-4 First four lines rhyme scheme: a-b-b-a Second four lines word count: 4-3-2-1 Second four lines rhyme scheme: c-d-d-c |
Love is an anchor on my heart stops it drifting from shore to shore, steadies it when the storms of life batter its sails and the rain does pour. Love is a banner that flies above proclaiming victory though there was no war, tells the world that you have won. Love is a banner that marks me as yours. Love is the guardian of my heart, it guides my steps as I explore the depths of our happiness and keeps me in its arms of enraptured splendor. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt - image of the word L O V E, each letter attached to a heart that is hanging from it |
| I wouldn’t mind getting old if I were consulted, like a book of knowledge on subjects wide and varied, if I could silence them all with a look. But youth is all bounce and go, the time is now, no delay will it brook. My brain works slower when it’s harried, the answer’s not worth the time that it took So I sit, undisturbed. At least age lets me off the hook when it comes to burdens I once carried - Someone else will have to cook. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt/Week # 26 Poet's Choice! You can write a poem on any topic or form you like. Remember, your poem must be at least 12 lines. |
In a long unrecalled corner of memory there grows a dandelion jungle and there a yellow-haired child waist high in green and daubs of light giggles as she grasps a dozen suns in chubby fingers. Summer days live there too plump blackberries growing wild in fields of daisies and overgrown brambles a girl wipes the juice dripping from her chin laughs as she plucks petals that know how I love you. In a moist and warm September digging in the earth beneath the leaves planning some spring arrivals the young woman plants the bulbs waiting in hope and faith for tulips by the front door to welcome you home. It was a sunny day in December the ground not yet frozen the earth in a mound beside you a daughter and now mother lays a perfect rose upon the casket where you sleep. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt/Week # 25 Use these words in your poem: roses, daisies, tulips |
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