Still, I Rise– A Badger Hexastitch #tankatuesday
I Rise, is an encouragement poem for you-- a reminder of the power you carry within. Happy Palentine's Day, Pen Pals... Lovely friends of mine/ your virtues are most divine/
I Rise, is an encouragement poem for you-- a reminder of the power you carry within. Happy Palentine's Day, Pen Pals... Lovely friends of mine/ your virtues are most divine/
I was inspired to write a response to this lovely picture prompt, and I base it on the fact that my dear husband, my breadwinner, is close to ending his years of braving it out in society's wild land. Let me know what you think about what I see & how I used the prompt.
Find awe in the idea of love and the depth of love youβre capable of giving. AND, don't wait for Valentine's Day to begin. Scroll to the bottom for a timely Aside concerning a friend.
Written for Meeting The Bar at dVerseΒ for the patchwork PROSE prompt hosted by Laura. Iβm STILL wowed at the result and will say no more.
Stream of consciousness post. Can you help me to figure this out please. Thanks.
I'm wowed and will say no more. Because how else was this supposed to go with words from literary geniuses, such as Mary Oliver & Joy Harjo? Enjoy my patchwork.
There exist no goodbyes, or tearsβbetween me and my sea only cosmic see-you-later: Pontic Sea, my shepherd, you guide & renew me through the tempests and help mend my existential crises.
A small town raised me. That was my then; I am now living my now. Two simple happenings that are entangled. Read to find out what that feels like. xo
Couldn't resist this luminous prompt at dVerse to write a Quadrille employing the word star. Won't you give it a go, too? It runs until Friday. See you inside. xo
Love-- Aww, Love! If you have clumpy and jaded ideas about love, Archery In The UK by Nick Reeves & Ingrid Wilson will help aspirate those hardened ideas. This poetry collection will renew you to loveβs purer meaning... or curl your toes
My first (& second) American Sentence Poem. With scientific insight from the book, The Hidden Life Of Trees by Peter Wohlleben.
You can no longer see it, but you can feel it-- the child within. I hope the feeling is of a good memory. Like Christmas perhaps? Please read these ha'sonnets, and perhaps write one too. For your inner child.