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 |    A log of the magnificent journey across the vast sea of my imagination. |
 A log of our magnificent journey. |
| I slither and crawl through the slime and the grime in nooks and crannies of Mother Earth's bailiwick, searching for lizards and mice. Wherever they run, whether sun is up or down, I'll be there waiting. Notes on the Oriental Octet form of poetry ▼ |
| When Debby came to town and threw a hissy fit, destroying all we knew, we became desperate. Her demonic temper sent days of drenching rain, obliterating dreams and inflicting great pain. She blew some stores apart with brutal energy, and homes were washed away into the raging sea. Notes ▼ |
| Every chance we get, we indulge in Mother Nature's smorgasbord of sensory treats. Wading in a cool babbling stream in the early morning hours along a scenic mountain trail, where squirrels chatter and robins sing, or perhaps, sunset walks down by the sea with warm sand between our toes, cavorting with the raucous gulls and watching their aerial ballet. Whenever trouble gets us down, there is nothing like Mother Nature's smorgasbord to relieve the stress. |
| We're battle buddies, through and through, fighting for the red, white, and blue, always ready to take up the slack and help the other get back on track, remaining faithful and true. I have slogged through the jungle with you and formed a lasting bond like glue, so we will always face the flack as battle buddies. Unity of spirit will ensue when we find ourselves in a stew. You know that I will have your back. Together we can crack the challenges we pursue as battle buddies. Notes on the Rondeau form of poetry ▼ |
| Roaches scramble here and there, and spiders spin their webs with flair. When buzzing flies make presence known, housekeeper lets out a thunderous groan. Ants parade around the kitchen and make her start twitchin'. The cricket choir serenades our evening promenades, as fireflies flicker in the night, about which we love to write. |
| Hand in hand, we walked along the beach, spring break some fifty years ago. We walked and talked and laughed, while chasing waves and scooping shells. That afternoon delight became a steady thing, as our bond kept growing stronger and stronger. The touch of your hand made me quiver when I placed the wedding band on your finger. Before long, three children joined us on our journey. Then came first steps, first words, graduations, weddings, new cars, new homes as our family grew. Through years of joy and struggle, the touch of your hand became my anchor. With your hand in my hand, we entered the realm of retirement. Today, that sensation still feels as grand as it did fifty years ago when we first met. 20 lines/126 words |
| Summer breeze whispered ancient tales, as geese gathered by the stream. Doe and fawn wandered down the trails, according to Nature's scheme. With summer spirits in control, we took heed as daylight waned. Sensory buffet fed our soul, and mystic melodies reigned. We enjoyed the antics of woodland sprites, while troubadours sang about summer nights. Notes on the Ravenfly form of poetry ▼ |
| Remembering those brave young men who stormed the beach at Normandy. Remembering those who gave their all and never returned to those waiting at home. Remembering those families and friends who lost their loved ones forever. Remembering all those who continue to sacrifice so we may be free. |
Poetry is dancing with the language of life-- the tone, the tempo, the shades, the sounds of words, the symphony crescendo of crimson and gold, rising with the sun at dawn. Poetry is the door to discovery opening new perspectives. |
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