Bllog hopping with imaginary garden Words Count with Mama Zen
Challenged to write a new poem from a given list of words: "mimicry, testament, rapture, cool, dachshund, cherubim, heretic, infinitesimal, convenient, serendipity" Chose three words from the above list and compose a little bit of brilliance of sixty words or less. Bonus points if you title your poem "Book of Words."
FAITH ACKNOWLEDGED
A tiny bit of faith abounds into a plenty
That great mass of a tree from a little seed
Began, was once just a reserve entity
Memory for future on going life
Storehouses contain a wealth of important
Items, sources of treasure indeed
Watch the busy bee and the hurry ant
Resourceful in their cause for results rife
The honey is made without being iffy
The drones never ponder what if or when
Without thought of bears, or giant’s fee
Fie foo fom; they do what they are made for
So bees and hurrying ants they build
Using innate ability, their ken
The hives and the ant hills willed
To a future, regardless of ill favor
There is that something within
Which, linked to the vast divine infinite
Will; makes things happen, in
Time, and according to right standard
Like the seed with its allotted germination
Is sprung out of timely respite
Ideas have their span of meditation
Then they grow into the tangible
Because of the inherent faith
That which is yet to materialize
Rises out of the labyrinth
And makes it way to surface
From the deep where in lies essence
Of everything found in every shape and size
On the inside is the vast nuance
The old, the new, the grace
Of renewing and expanding
Replenishing that which was created
For a specific purpose; demanding
Responsibility and obedience in return
Happy September everyone❧✿❧ You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #121, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites
❧✿❧
HAD HE CLIMBED HIGHER
Jack clambered up the bean stalk
And there he was with a fee fie foo fum
The giant, a monstrous gawk
Had he climbed higher, high enough
To touch the sun
He would have seen and non too soo
A mun starr eyeing Houston
Big enough to overshadow the moon
Had he climbed high, and kept on climbing
He would have heard the whispers
From down below solar eclipse sol ar e clipse sola
Eclipse becoming clearer and crisper
Rising to a holler
Had he climbed higher, high enough
He would have seen him falling, falling falling
Collapsed from sun burns
And his tears the rivers and dams filling
Poured in like ashes to an urn
Had he claimed high, and kept on climbing
With those whose every possession was caught
In a flood, where no oracle prophesied an ark
Jack would have heard the sobs of those fraught
A people ravished by his fall, his mark
Blog hopping today with imaginary garden A Skyflower Friday: Monsters
Prompted by Kerry O'Connor, standing in for Shay, with a Fireblossom Friday flavoured challenge.
THIS POEM IS APPRECIATION, ADMIRATION, REVERENCE
This poem is the art of appreciation.
This poem is admiration - aesthetic of life.
This poem is reverence, a humble bow.
Van Gogh, oh Van Gogh, why the ear?
Why this extreme way of passion?
The sun flowers nod at your ardour,
To colour imitating splendour,
Of a bee's delight, no words only hues,
This poem is appreciation for star filled nights.
He sees her, he is timid, he is shy,
Those curves, they mesmerize him,
Stun him, reduce him to a stutter,
Where words are eaten alive,
And brain becomes sated to just dance,
This poem is admiration of youth hushed of lyrics.
Oh morning dew, oh sunset glow,
How masterful is ocean's lore,
By earth to fashion his smile and core ,
And by his side his fleshed bone stride
This poem is reverence of creation's pride.
Last Monday of this August, prayers for a speedy recovery for those suffering the effects of Harvey ❧✿❧ You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #120, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites ❧✿❧
CLOUDS OF THE MORNING
There they are,
clouds of the morning,
lounging in the blue sky afar,
like every morning they are there,
decor of sky,
as moody and unpredictable as a woman.
Sometimes pouting, sometimes dancing,
sometimes wearing yellow hues,
sometimes silver accents,
coiffured in huge puffs, or light romantic wisps
but always there they are,
Good Monday ❧✿❧ You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #119, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites ❧✿❧
