Do I follow form
Or formulary? Is 5 then
Seven and 5 to
End the verse enough?
Or to start it up again?
Do I follow form?
So short and yet still
So stubborn and insistent.
Do I follow form?
Why five, not three, or
Four. Why seven, for me, a
Magic number, not
Nine or eleven or
An even ten an odd one
Not one per se, but
A shorter or a
Longer number like thirteen
Why five, not fourteen?
Why? Am I missing something?
The coleus was
Strong killed by kindness, then
Neglect, it gave up
Cloudless? Never ever is
It a cloudless sky. No sun?
Clouds will appear anyway
It's five seven
Five again, have I got it
Right? Syllables wow!
I do really need
Dolly Parton in my life
If anyone ever does
While ye may, may you live fully
Pay attention to details, to all big
And little things that make you
Happy and let you capture the
Flowers and smell roses or if ye
Like lilacs, in all their glorious
Pale purple, as fragrant as if they
Were a lusher deeper shade. Just
One more detail to hold in your
Heart. Gather ye rosebuds awhile.
How are you creative?
How is it that you of all people are
Creative? You are straightforwardly
Stalwart, not at all a creative type
More typically, perhaps a historian
If only you had memory to support
Creativity is for the bohemian in our
Midst, the one prone to wearing big
Floppy hats and excess jewelry, the
One drawling sometimes incessantly
Describe a man who has positively impacted your life.
Life's little positives
A smile, a caress, acts
Of thanks, and grace
The appreciative ones
They show they care
Their care is apparent
And transparent. All
Given freely and from
The heart wherein the
Positive resides and
Flourishes. It thrives
On energy exchanged
And willed, recognized
And shared like a meal
Or the bike only one
Of you owned, but
Both used as needed.
It's yours. It's mine.
Ours together as the
Need arises. We meet
It. Together. Positive.
What was the last thing you did for play or fun?
What is the river hiding?
What secret does the
Water hold deep or in
The shallows under the
Cover of rippling eddies?
Or gentle waves in the
Shallows though we
Know it runs deeper
Hiding its mysteries in
The shallow waters or
In the middle where it
Deepens as the river
Bed drops, its floor a
Concave of complex
Vegetation and mud
It's a process in which I
Turn my everyday events,
Observations, thoughts
And opinions into poetry.
The diurnal into rhyme
Or at least rhythm and,
In my case, an occasional
Slant rhyme. Ordinary
Things into exceptional
Picturesque images. The
Usual into the unusual.
You know that all things
Are always extraordinary.
Celebrate the days, hours,
And always enjoy the awe
That time and rhyme can
Bring into our daily lives.
It felt like Thanksgiving came
Early. And then it went. Oddly,
November kept going, and now
It, too, is nearly gone. Maybe it
Isn't so odd. The season calls for
December to bring winter and
All those endless tiresome and
True holidays. Winter comes
Acreeping upon us in the midst
Of all this. Squarely at midpoint
In time for a Mid-winter's Night
Dream. Turkeys and fireplaces
Stockings and trees. Ham for a
Christmas dinner or alongside
Your turkey and on some tables
Lasagna. Side dishes galore with
Stuffing and sweet potato clear
Favorites. Snow? Did I forget to
Count the snow, flakes atop one
Another. Snowmen. Snowballs.
Fall turns into winter. Revelry.
Tamara, really