Yes Victoria. it's Marcus. Is it odd that I still have a hard time calling you anything other than Ms. Rivas? I guess because you were my teacher and instructor for a few years it became habit.
Just so I get one in right away here is song lyric on the subject. I have a food poem too, been out straight busy.Will post it tomorrow. Meanwhile...
Seasons All in its season will blossom and grow, All in its season will fade; Through sun and through shadow we do what we know And sometimes we welcome the deepening shade.
The garden is verdant and brown by turn, Seed time and harvest come round A gardener's pleasure is time to learn To nurture and till and make fertile the ground.
All in its season must blossom and grow All in its season must fade. Though our vision be limited still we know The seeds' in the blossom before it is made.
For time's an illusion and change is too And blossom and seed are one The spark of creation makes all things new And when time has ended it's also begun.
All in its season has blossomed and grown In sun and wind and rain Nature and Gardener harvest what's sown Then plant and nurture the seedlings again.
I was really hoping to sit down and write a new one this week, but time is running out. I do, of course, have a couple of old ones that fit the prompt.
Autumn in August
Somewhere along Route 8, my daily fret on all things in need of doing is interrupted. Red orange, yellow amid green makes me notice autumn
in August. The only season I do not take for granted. Every day I analyze, compare, observe fire hues combust from summer shades of green
to explosive colors. Lately I have noticed shades of grey amid your brown hair from across the back porch. For years I have spotted individual strands
close up but this is more public and I wonder when greys will overtake the brown. I will compare each day, and never once take autumn for granted.
Tree covered mountains burst with round baby spring cheeks mature to smooth, dense, deep green of full-grown summer, Leaf colors change, gradual falling of autumn. Jagged snowy branches show wrinkles of winter. I think of my gray hair, soft middle-aged body, grateful I do not live the whole cycle each year.
...the end of summer faint aromas of fall permeate my senses excite me and I don’t remember why... I sit and smell to bring back whatever is eluding me and...it spills forward Mom waking me early for the first day of school! new clothes new shoes new underwear! notebooks, pencils even a protractor! So, when I smell the weather turn excitement hits my soul
When we move
ReplyDeleteto our new house
and I get new teeth
and we have a little
extra money I'm going
to get a new look
maybe let my daughters
pick a wardrobe for me
let them finally
have a dad who
looks like they think
he oughta
Sweet and endearing. Not at all like you. LOL. Seriously, I love this a lot.
DeleteWhy would you change? You are you and you wouldn’t be you unless you did things the way you do!
Deleteinteresting. Makes me consider the difference between how we see ourself and how we think others see us.
DeleteThis is a fun poem, he information is so nicely contained within he short verses. Good job!
DeleteIt’s different and enjoyable. I loved the quip about your dad it made the poem funny
DeleteImagine flying
ReplyDeleteagainst your will.
Passing overtop a beautiful hill.
You want to land
But you cannot
"Don't get lost,
follow your flock."
Green leaves turn brown,
Falling to the ground.
Continuing to flap,
Landscape turns black.
One by one,
Your flock falls apart.
Flying alone,
alone from the start?
Grass comes again
And the beautiful hill.
This time I land
But no one is here.
Flying again
Of my own free will,
But still I feel forced
To leave the beautiful hill.
I joined a new flock
It is small but we fly less.
When we fly it's my fault.
Imagine flying
against your will.
Passing overtop a beautiful hill.
You want to land
But you cannot
"Don't get lost,
follow your flock."
But now it's not me with these thoughts.
Is this the Winston I know, alias Marcus? Interesting piece. And in any case, welcome to the group! I hope you post more.
DeleteI liked the progression of he poem and thought i was interesting. Welcome.
DeleteYes Victoria. it's Marcus. Is it odd that I still have a hard time calling you anything other than Ms. Rivas? I guess because you were my teacher and instructor for a few years it became habit.
DeleteI enjoyed this. Makes me appreciate free will.
DeleteI enjoyed this poem very much. I think we all really want to fly!
DeleteJust so I get one in right away here is song lyric on the subject. I have a food poem too, been out straight busy.Will post it tomorrow. Meanwhile...
ReplyDeleteSeasons
All in its season will blossom and grow,
All in its season will fade;
Through sun and through shadow we do what we know
And sometimes we welcome the deepening shade.
The garden is verdant and brown by turn,
Seed time and harvest come round
A gardener's pleasure is time to learn
To nurture and till and make fertile the ground.
All in its season must blossom and grow
All in its season must fade.
Though our vision be limited still we know
The seeds' in the blossom before it is made.
For time's an illusion and change is too
And blossom and seed are one
The spark of creation makes all things new
And when time has ended it's also begun.
All in its season has blossomed and grown
In sun and wind and rain
Nature and Gardener harvest what's sown
Then plant and nurture the seedlings again.
Nicely done. In particular I like the almost repetition with the "will", "must" and "has" changes.
DeleteFavorite line:
DeleteThe seeds in the blossom before it is made.
nice Tasha! I liked it a lot!
DeleteI was really hoping to sit down and write a new one this week, but time is running out. I do, of course, have a couple of old ones that fit the prompt.
ReplyDeleteAutumn in August
Somewhere along Route 8,
my daily fret on all
things in need of doing
is interrupted. Red
orange, yellow amid green
makes me notice autumn
in August. The only
season I do not take
for granted. Every day
I analyze, compare,
observe fire hues combust
from summer shades of green
to explosive colors.
Lately I have noticed shades
of grey amid your brown hair
from across the back porch.
For years I have spotted
individual strands
close up but this is more
public and I wonder
when greys will overtake
the brown. I will compare
each day, and never once
take autumn for granted.
....never once take autumn for granted!
DeleteLove this line and the comparison to our signs of aging season.
I liked the way the poem progressed and found it o be very wonderfully written. You are amazing!
Deleteyes the beauty of the trees! Fall is so majestic!! I always call the trees the biggest flower of them all!
DeleteEACH YEAR I PASS THE DAY I WILL DIE
ReplyDeleteTree covered mountains burst
with round baby spring cheeks
mature to smooth, dense, deep
green of full-grown summer,
Leaf colors change, gradual falling of autumn.
Jagged snowy branches
show wrinkles of winter.
I think of my gray hair,
soft middle-aged body,
grateful I do not live
the whole cycle each year.
I too am grateful to not live the whole cycle each year. Good point. I smiled reading that.
DeleteNice sentiment! Well said too.
DeleteWow...I really loved the feeling I received upon reading this! It hit me in my sensitivities!
Delete3456 Format
ReplyDeleteSorry for late post.
Spring or Fall?
I can’t decide.
Trees of colored leaves
or buds bursting with joy?
My tongue clicks
Crunchy raked leaves...
The sweet smell of Spring
or cinnamon cider?
Sounds of rain
Pitter patter.....
Baking apple pie....
The smell of garden dirt.
Trick or treat?
Go fly a kite?
See a wooly bear?
A field of spring Robins.
Foggy roads
Easter egg hunts
Burnt marshmallow s’mores
or daylight savings time?
Dark mornings
or dark evenings?
Campfires or brush fires?
It’s hard to choose between
life or death.
I can never decide either! beautiful poem
DeleteYes indeed. I like that last verse, sums it up nicely.
ReplyDelete...the end of summer
ReplyDelete...the end of summer
faint aromas of fall
permeate my senses
excite me and I don’t
remember why...
I sit and smell
to bring back
whatever is eluding me
and...it spills forward
Mom
waking me
early for the first
day of school!
new clothes
new shoes
new underwear!
notebooks, pencils
even a protractor!
So, when I smell
the weather turn
excitement hits
my soul