Verse Love 26: Day 12: It's a Treasure

Today’s Verse Love Host, Rita DiCarne asks us to consider what is on our mind or on our heart. It could be things we love, or hate! Today, I am writing about a specific part of love that I have long cherished: the relationships between members of an extended family across generations of children, grandchildren, cousins. If your are fortunate enough to gather, in real life or through words, even if rarely, these moments are a treasure of this life. 

I treasure those times we become one, greeting with

Hugs, good-nighting, more than once, cementing love,

And when

When they lean in, lost in the moment,

Before the story ends and they scamper off, laughing,

And when 

The crickets' song becomes the soundtrack of the shared

Stories, memories, before they head off on their own paths

And when 

They share hopes, dreams, reminders that 

Roots allow us to hold tight through challenging times

And when 

A smile, wave, nod or side hug is an a

Acknowledgement of the gift of presence,

And when

Their words, actions bring buried memories

Roaring back to the present even if no one else knows 

And when

A moment, as hard as it is to find, to make 

Creates a treasure.

Verse Love 26: Day 10: Wave Toward Home

Today's Verse Love Host, Susan Ahlbrand, asks us to write a poem TO a place, telling why it has made an imprint on your heart. I did not learn to love the magical powers of beaches as a child with one windy picnic at Jones Beach; yet, today, I have great love for rocky, sandy, loud, quiet beaches where I am at home.

It's an honor, a privilege,

To hear to your perpetual 

Relocation of sands in Bethany, 

To become one with your rhythm

As you tease toes in Cape May,

To savor seafood as you dance 

Among the rocks in Taormina,

To remember magical moments,

Created in Carmel, Assateague, 

To touch pink sands in Elbow Beach

Black sand, frigid water in Vikurfjara,

To feel your warm hug, peace,

Love, and know when near,

I am home. 

Verse Love Day 9: Stormville

Today's Verse Love Host, Brian Crandall, asks us to consider all the locations you’ve felt safest and consider memories, smells and feelings from these locations. I chose to write about a rural, mountain top location where I lived for many years 70 miles north of Midtown Manhattan. I really did have some wonderful years there, but my children have chosen neighbors, sidewalks, and nearby take out options.

Sylvan Lake Phones had humans overseeing

    Shared phone lines in the beginning, 

Then, pops confirmed a start of hunting season, bucks on

    Top of pick ups, hanging from trees, before breakfast ,

Once the power lines went down, we were 

    Out of water, heat, lights for days, weeks even,

Rural Route 2, for many years, was all Mailman Everett would

    Require, add Nathan Hale Drive if you want,

Most of us left the Post Office-General Store seeing double

    Mail with milk and marshmallows, a first for me,

Vacationing hikers trudged through backyards,

    Venerable Appalachian Trail summer warriors 

It was as snowy, windy as the name implied,

    It forced camaraderie on top of that mountain, a

Long way from groceries, gas, schools, friends,

    Lots of children of chip-makers 

Learned to play with neighbors or be lonely while the

    Looping interstate grew busier and noisier,

Even thinking about groceries, ballet, take out required

    Escaping to Hopewell Junction, where the action was?

      

      

Verse Love Day 8 Have A Good Day!

Today's Verse Love host, Linda, asks us to take a sentence from English and then "translate" the phrase into poetry, such as turn "I feel lost in the chaos of life.’ into a poetic phrase, ‘The heart wanders through the storm, seeking sunlight in shadows," like in Whitney Hanson’s, “In Poetry We Say…”. I drafted several poems in my head this morning, but that recurring comment we all say flippantly begged for a poem.

At the local coffee hut,

The refrain is repeated

Again, and again....

Have a good day! 

It's meaning......

May your gifts emerge amid

The meeting, interview,

Class, no matter the tone,

Even if your hopes and

Heart remain guarded.

May you find hope and peace

No matter what the diagnosis,

Prospectus, critique offers

Even as you dreams are

Dashed, again.

May you feel sunshine 

In spite of the storms

Through friends, family, a poem

Despite the challenges 

This day.

Verse Love: April 7: Much Mulch

Over at Verse Love today, our host, Luke Bensing asked us to pick an image and use alliteration in your first line and your last line. That’s it. Yet, my head is messy as a pile bark mulch that I sliced about a few minutes ago. 

Mostly, it's a multitude of sources for mulch

Multiplied many times so it will matter,

A bargain at Lowes, perhaps with budget

Busting delivery charges?

Or a pallet from Amazon that only a 

Fork-lift could raise?

Or a massive mountain dumped 

In plain sight, mocking me day and night?

It's probably not an intense need for mulch

Mocking my attempt to read, write or sleep.

Mulch prices misplace the mighty scary

Meaning of that threat that maybe,

Many more lives are in jeopardy,

Minutes after Jeopardy.

SOL26 April 9: Mulch Before Jeopardy

Today is Slice of Life Tuesday and I am sharing a bit about where my head is today.  

Better and Homes and Gardens is not coming for a photo shoot, but bark chops are still invading my thoughts, even though the one bag I bought last spring sits unopened in the garage!

I could get mulch, on sale, at Lowes through tomorrow for just 2 dollars per back-breaking bag? But, if I want delivery, that will add 75 dollars, plus a tip! Or, the Depot has bags for 4 with 66 dollar delivery, plus tip. Or Amazon will deliver at the end of the month and leave them, probably at the entrance to my driveway!  Goffle Brook Farms has bags only a fork lift can move with a bargain 35 dollar delivery! Or, I could get a dump truck to leave a mountain in my driveway that would certainly force me to do something! 

Instead, I scroll endlessly researching mulch prices as if that was really on my mind rather than worry about the meaning of the leader of the free world's threat to wipe out a whole civilization after Jeopardy tonight. 

Verse Love: Day 6: To Forgive

Today's Verse Love host, Wendy Edwards, asks us to consider Anhaldam mawi kassipalilawalan.

a Native American phrase meaning ‘Forgive me for any wrong I may have done you," as there is always multiple to look at any human interaction. 

This prompt drags emotions that I try to suppress to the surface and demands I face the question that bubbles to the surface whenever my mind weakens its defenses.

Intense anger gnawed at my soul until in an ocean of despair, 
I found a human power to forgive, and watched a sun emerge; 
I wonder if the torment will continue until you forgive yourself?

Verse Love: Day 5: Lessons From History

On this Easter Sunday, the Verse Love host, Jennifer asks us to prompt asks us find a line of poetry that speaks to us and then un-find it by exchanging the main words with their antonyms as a starting point. 

I started with some of Amanda Gorman's lines, and took liberty at un-finding it!

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:

That even as we grieved, we grew...

At home, where elected 

Representatives of we, the people

Sigh and wonder if 

This is a need, a want, a lie,

Even as some celebrate,

Winning battles, 

Dropping deadly bombs,

Killing of dictators,

Daring rescues,

We the people. wondered 

Had not learned 

Lessons from history?

Verse Love: Day 4: Where Are You From?

 This morning at Verse Love, Kim Johnson asks us to choose a person and setting (passenger on an airplane, etc.) and introduce yourself.  She asks us to offer a glimpse into our world. I knew I somehow wanted to "honor" my one of my favorite "living" poets Amanda Gorman who hails from LA and gained "fame" at Biden's inauguration. 

Here's the imaginary, wanna-be-real-setting. I found myself moved to business class last minute where I was assigned next to a younger woman, eyes already closed. Her hoodie was pulled low and her earbuds seemed to be closing out the world. I did not want to stare, but she sure looked like my heroine.  I read and reread that same page again and again as she slept and I wondered what I'd say if she woke up. I was staring at the clouds as we passed over Kansas when she stretched.....and we shared destinations.... before she asked, "Where are you from?"

I lived in McKeesport just long enough to get certificate of birth

Not long enough to appreciate the pollution of steel mills before

In my mother's arms, we pulled our trailer to Terre Haute, Indiana 

Then Ohio, which did not generate any family worthy stories before heading

To Spring Valley, NY where Hasidic families lived as they believed

Risking lives, walking in the dark on the Sabbath before,

Heading to Meridian, Mississippi and then to Selma, Alabama where

First hand inequities of our society became more real in segregated schools,

Stores, even churches shocked even my dad who I thought was worldly before

Heading to HS in upstate NYS where everyone skied and I bridged to college at

SUNY Albany as Vietnam War protests raged on the quad, before embarking

On my college journey to Syracuse, NY and then the University of Maryland

As Watergate exploded, before

Stops in Murrysville, PA and Troy, NY as early married life unfolded before

Landing in Stormville, NY, on top of a mountain that really is that stormy where

I raised my children and found out how strong I really was before

Settling in a two-train town in Northern, NJ not too far from my precious grands

30 minutes from Fordham University, The Met and Broadway.

"That story should be a poem!" she said and I'll always believed I talked too much but gave her fodder for a real poem about me!

Verse Love Day 3: Just One Pane di Pasqua

Today is Day 3 of Verse Love, our Host, Melissa asks us to consider art or an image as our inspiration. My mother-in-law wove Pane di Pasqua, with love, every Easter. It remains a symbol of new life and spring that makes me smile as I make just one, in her honor. 

They always sat in a pile on the table

As if they had popped out of the oven

Like the gingerbread man, rather than

Patiently kneaded, woven into perfect

Braids, holding their bright promises of life.

I smile as I walk past the best in town bakery, 

Think about ordering just one, while memories,

Of her centerpiece urge me to make just one,

Thinking about her as I knead, weave, and bake

Just one to sit on my table to remember her love, and

The promise of hope needed this spring.