Imbroglio

One of those weeks when I live in a total fog:  I think Monday is Tuesday, put something in a ‘safe’ place (i.e. can’t find it), forget the grocery list, put a sweater on backwards … does everyone have weeks like this?

IMBROGLIO

mix-ups jumble disorder                           013.blog.1.20.15.
plunder puzzles
scramble confusion
until all fall foul
of lucidity

addled pates resound
with dismayed bewilderment
incoherent where anarchy
runs amok over hill
untidy dale        cities
disorientated with strikes
diners serving hash
commuter complexities
convoluted by refusals
to sabotage chaos

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A Summer Father … Here is poetry … interweaving images culled from a wartime childhood with bittersweet memories of a “summer father”. Lynda Monahan

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A Summer Father … Here is poetry … interweaving images culled from a wartime childhood with bittersweet memories of a “summer father”. Lynda Monahan

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Street senryu

The kaleidoscope of activity on the streets of any city are a perpetual wonder and puzzlement. People cut in and out of traffic, jay-walk (guilty as charged). They sleep in bus-shelters, doorways, under bridges, on vents. They take chances … with clothes and with traffic …

023night shelter –                                           France 2011 515 narrow crowded street
a family’s new fridge
came in a cardboard box

 

his shorts
hang low –
my held breath

 

IMG_5781 coming into SLSthe cyclist overtakes
on the bend …
statistics

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A Summer Father … poems as deceptively simple and cunning as a sniper’s bullet. This book is a Remembrance Day poppy. Dave Margoshes

summerfathercoverA Summer Father … poems as deceptively simple and cunning as a sniper’s bullet. This book is a Remembrance Day poppy. Dave Margoshes

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Old Couple

Valentine’s Day coming up and, being caught in flight delays just after Christmas, I had time to watch people. There was one ‘junior elderly’ couple that delighted me, they’d clearly been together for many years …

OLD COUPLE

you have heard his jokes                                    001..1.11.15.
eighty times over
and laughed first last and ever

you have warmed her feet
night after sixty winters

you know the curve of back
and length of thigh
from silk to wrinkle

003..1.11.15.each to each
you are twined about
one house one heart
complete

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first published in People’s Poetry Letter

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The Willow Tree Girl for ages 7-11 … Weston doesn’t miss a beat as she untangles past and present, ghosts, missing treasure, and her heroine’s longing for success.

willow treegirl8The Willow Tree Girl “… perfect for children in the 7-11-year-old bracket who love to read. …The characters are life-like and the plot intriguing …” Elizabeth Symon. Find it at Smashwords

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How do I Answer the Rain?

 

Rain. It comes walloping down by the bucketful, or sifts through the air as a gentle damp. Rain drips from the eaves, gets down my neck, fogs my glasses. But it’s good for reservoirs and gardens …

HOW DO I ANSWER THE RAIN?

my answer? I have none –
mouth open to receive each question
as it drops –                                                        IMG_5648
eyes shining in the wash
of insistent query

crocuses spread petals wide
in reply to the rain
melt in response
to the caress of wet fingers

rain seeks entrance to my being
asks to be the final tear
that I let fall

I close over a horizon
of yellow answers

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first published in Poetry Monthly

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The Willow Tree Girl “… perfect for children in the 7-11-year-old bracket who love to read. …The characters are life-like and the plot intriguing …” Elizabeth Symon. Find it at Smashwords

willow treegirl8The Willow Tree Girl “… perfect for children in the 7-11-year-old bracket who love to read. …The characters are life-like and the plot intriguing …” Elizabeth Symon. Find it at Smashwords

Posted in flowers, poem, rain, Uncategorized, weather | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Diet of Words

Poetry. Food for the mind, food for the soul. It’s pleasure to read poetry, to discover the many ways of exploring our world through the insights of poets, all the way from Shakespeare to John Clare to Ginsberg to just plain fun …

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A DIET OF WORDS

if poems be the food of love
let them be served on every plate
sautéed in wine and served on goldIMG_9131..4.17.13. Zapatas fried mackerel

does the rhymester catch a comma
and use it for a porridge spoon
or leave a couplet drowning
in her morning cup of coffee?

should half rhyme be an early snack
gulped down while munching after noon
until rhythm beats its steady drum
in laden soup bowls and hungry poets
chase metaphors through stoic meals

where endless adverbs are served up hot
and my poems be tasty as an apricot

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willow treegirl8The Willow Tree Girl “… perfect for children in the 7-11-year-old bracket who love to read. …The characters are life-like and the plot intriguing …” Elizabeth Symon. Find it at Smashwords

Posted in food, imagination, language, poem, poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Tree Haiku

Trees bare and stark against the horizon; rain streaks the windows; fog blurs the view, or snow creates a fairyland. Whatever the weather, the view changes everyday and the world is always new and different …

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old photograph black and white evergreens

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rabbits under                                           031.Gillian sunrise 11.17.14.blog
the maple tree
light rain

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sunrise –
a tree breaks
the skyline

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‘sunrise’ was first published in Lynx
photo by Gillian Leverkus

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berry & the bandFREE! The Berry Books are FREE at Smashwords! And they are perfect for 3-6 year-olds. ‘Berry and the Birthday Band’ and ‘Berry Cleans House’ tell how Berry the mouse, who lives in a tree, gets into funny situations, and has to find his way out of them.

Posted in landscape, poem, trees, weather | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Dinner at 6

So the world returns to normal: wake-up, work, dishes, schedules, more dishes, sleep … festivities over and we’re back into regular routines. Do we have a tendency to get the January blues? Maybe it’s the weather, rain, snow, fog …

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DINNER AT 6

scars of four thousand                                               034.11.21.14.blog..
six o’clocks braid
my hair

old meals
leave their smell
on the roof of my mouth

dishes wiped
by ten thousand
dish cloths
line cupboards

torn tea-towels
lie over
tea-stained cups

the next meal
will be hash
from leftovers

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first published in Herspectives

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summerfathercoverA Summer Father … terse, imagistic lines; … It’s not nostalgia that we experience but quiet, poignant grief. Richard Stevenson

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