National poetry month day #24

What? What happened to
The daily poem Mary Beth?
It’s a long story.

Threw some stanzas into a group poem on Not Without Poetry. It was/is interesting and fun but I can’t think of what might go next or how we know if it’s done.

The whole poem, compiled by the prompt giver can be seen in comments.

This entry was posted in NaPoWriMo, National Haiku Day and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to National poetry month day #24

  1. Mary Beth says:

    Jasmine Revolution

    They stand, basking in
    The sunlight ‘midst the winter
    Of their discontent

    The bud furled tight, when prodded,
    must open to the spring time.

    Cold moving storms
    Heading east
    Dissipate precipitously

    Mud clings to boots, leaves footprints
    we can’t control our dreams

    muddy footprints blur
    against the slated path’s shine
    smoothing until gone

    dandelions, daffodils
    vying for my attention

    The petals chatter
    whirling beating on the wind
    the birds perch nearby

    Giddy with the warmth of sun,
    dappled shadows play with leaves.

    Between wingtips buzz
    a clouds of gnats dances high
    scattering shadow

    my face clouds with remembrance
    warm Spring days almost now past

    Spike-edged leaves picked for salads –
    this sharp spring wonder.
    Sun licks dressing from your lips

    Don’t spare me the lemon juice
    Don’t blunt your mouth with white lies

    It’s not the lying
    That angers me so much as
    It’s bald faced nature

    Flowers turn their faces
    to the fence. A kind of shame.

    Rooting down below
    to grasp some dirt-bound essence
    required skyward.

    Tears of sorrow and of joy,
    both nourish the thirsty depths.

    Dew upon dew falls,
    mist lays down in sheets. Enough
    times to rise a flood.

    the sudden drumming of rain
    splatters judgement in this way

    leaves, flowers, trees, none
    are excused from nature’s court
    all rise for the sun

    Bailiff’s gavel summons all;
    They answer, save the sleeper.

    Sleeping ‘neath the soil
    Fruit of judgement starts to heave
    Its way into view

    Brown eye looks up to gold,
    Sunflower turns to greet sun.

    Somewhere, summer has ended.
    The bee doesn’t know.
    She hums, singing, to the blue.

    Passing flower to flower
    Seeding the generations

    Who tunes the bees’ hums?
    Who loosens the strings of tides,
    rolls thunder like dice?

    Lightning wakes the hawk and crow
    Reaper and black scavenger

  2. mom says:

    WOW You are working at it until the end in a few days. Hope you continue because if you don’t I will miss the poetry.

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