The Spring Equinox
Hi, friends, this post is written for Colleen at Tanka Tuesday for March 19, 2024where poets gather to create syllabic poetry every week. This community invitesme to open my heart…
Hi, friends, this post is written for Colleen at Tanka Tuesday for March 19, 2024where poets gather to create syllabic poetry every week. This community invitesme to open my heart…
Sadje: "Waiting for your responses." What Do You See PromptImage credit: Nickola Johnny Mirkovic @ Unsplash For the visually challenged reader, this image shows an arched veranda,where multiple pillars support a high…
Worst than a bad hair day, is when the pollen count explodes to record highs. I’ve been going for two days with a headache 🤕 and home remedies. Last night…
“Ekphrastic poems exist to respond to a piece of art critically,analytically, and reverentially.” ~Ekphrastic poetry explained Prompt #98: Wea’ve Written Weekly posted at The Skeptic's Kaddish onMarch 13, 2024 explores Ekphrastic poetry. I.…
high in the air/a butterfly crosses/ the depth of the valley//: Sekitei I happened upon this haiku in a book from the library and found enlightenmentwith the interpretation of the…
From Poetry Foundation —Poetry by one of my favorite poets.Originally published in 1922 Mother to Son BY LANGSTON HUGHES Well, son, I’ll tell you:Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.It’s…
Written for W3 Prompt #97: Wea’ve Written Weekly posted on March 6, 2024at the Skeptic's Kaddish where Jane Aguiar is the host this week. The prompt poem: ‘At the base of the…
Hotel de los corazones rotos–The hotel of broken hearts Hello, my precious Readers. Happy March--Spring--Yay! Another honor to have my poem nesting in this lovely literary magazine.I’m grateful to Editor: Michelle…
Through the naked trees I spya most striking painting to behold it could be the work of O'Keeffe,it could be the work of Van Gogh, but the only one here is Nature.…
no blooms here yet--unless you count my big smileanticipating © selma
Of wants I have nonebut I fear that one bad dayI might forget © selma
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king, Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing: Cuckoo, jug-jug,…