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 |  More poems for Promptly Poetry, stuffed into this book because I have reached my limit. |
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Prompt: (verb) to move to action Promptly: (adverb) : very quickly or immediately Poetry: a form of writing that no one ever reads |
Does the sun still play on the water while tadpoles dart in the shallows? Do the ripples trip over the same pebbles speckled black and white that you gathered by the handful? Saturdays, we returned the bottles for change nickels enough for a pink-frosted donut speckled with sprinkles and a bag of bread to feed the ducks. The geese were demanding, honking disapproval when the food ran out, chasing us to the car. Our bench is still there, the concrete wet and cold on this spring morning. A blue heron watches silently then, in an instant, is gone with the memories. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)"  Week 23 PROMPT Image of a bench by a pond/lake |
1929 Godfrey was a forgotten man to the world he once ruled living amongst his brethren, those who were once giants. But now their tattered suits and dingy overcoats told a tale of how a life crashes as the Depression sets in. They tip their hats still, but their stained fingers leave prints on the brims. Grateful for a can of beans and a match to keep the fire lit. A little warmth, when society turns a cold shoulder. Inspired in part by the movie “My Man Godfrey” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09COqlcC0-4 Prompt/Week # 22 Use these words in your poem this week: bean, can, match, grateful |
| Among modern parents has arisen a rift, About the bringer of Christmas gifts. The snootier type say you mustn’t lie, You’ll lose your child’s trust, make them cry. But these fears are founded on a misconception, That Santa Claus is some holiday invention. Now take it from me, he’s as real as can be (maybe even realer than you or me). I mean, have you ever been to the North Pole? Probably not, it’s far too cold. That's for the man in the red suit and fur cuffs, With his hardy elves, hardworking and tough. Together they weather the stormy winds that blow, They happily welcome the ice and snow. Of course, it does happen as we grow older, Our vision of Santa gets fainter, not bolder. So though he exists, we just can’t see him, And in our clumsy way, we try to be him. From store to store we hurriedly caper, To buy Christmas gifts and bright wrapping paper. We hope to spread the joy we knew back then, And feel like the children we were, once again. To know in our hearts what we knew in our youth, Santa is real, and that’s the truth! Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt/Week # 21 Write a poem about a mythological creature. Poem should be inspired by the prompt/image in some way A minimum of 12 lines, no maximum There are no form requirements Your submission must be newly written for this week's prompt |
| All the paper had been crumpled and balled, (The boxes stacked for future use) While Rudolph pranced across the TV screen. The children with new toys enthralled, Played underneath the fragrant spruce. How I remember this Christmas scene! It’s quieter now, this year’s holiday, With acceptance and silent gratitude. Like Scrooge undergoing his annual redemption So do we, each in our own way, For a moment put aside our humbug attitude, And revel in the joy of our disbelief’s suspension. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt/Week # 20 Form: ZENITH Invented by Viola Berg 1. Any number of sixains. (Your poem must have two = 12 lines.) 2. 8-syllable lines. 3. Rhyme Scheme: a-b-c-a-b-c d-e-f-d-e-f |
| As night falls, snowflakes swirl under lampposts stealthily building banks and drifts in the shadows. They lay where they fell, and no measurements taken. There’s nothing to do but sleep while they silently blanket the motionless street. At four a.m., the snowplow hazards a warning. It rumbles along, scrapes it jaw along the rough road, squawks a retreat, then repeats it. Morning lights are flashing, twinkling like a holiday display. The DPW trucks grumble in a salty way. And when the sun rises the blue tinge of night has gone. The sunshine is golden the snow glistens like diamonds. Neighbors with masked faces set snowblowers to growl, or clang shovels against the sidewalk. It’s going to be a white Christmas |
I could never make plans, surely they’d all go awry. With my head in my hands, I’d just sit down and cry. The good that happens to me may be coincidental. It may be serendipity or even accidental. I believe that God leads me and what seems serendipitous, is really His hand that keeps me and that is miraculous. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Week 18 Prompt = Serendipity |
| I see the Christmas lights, twinkling at night, And suddenly ev’ry memory bright, Rushes over me like a stream of love, Then am I lost in the nostalgic flood. And all who have left me are here in my heart, They inhabit Christmas, will not depart. A reverie of laughter, voices swell, Songs ring out and in the distance, church bells. These happy times in my memory stay, Though ev’ry year they slip further away . I am ever thankful that they haunt me still, And pray that old age will never distill, These precious people from my remembrance, Nor block the path of my soul’s transcendence. Though many loved ones from this world are gone, At Christmas-time, in my heart, they live on. 14 Lines Sonnet For "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt - Thankfulness |
Snowflake The wind wanders, how it blows! Blew a snowflake on my nose. I crossed my eyes, prayed it stay, But it melted straightaway. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Week 16 Form: TANAGA It is a poem of four lines (quatrain) It is usually a rhyming poem Each line contains seven syllables (7-7-7-7) AABB is the traditional rhyme scheme |
| When the dirty dishes pile up in the sink, You interrupt my grumbling and make me think, of how blessed I am to have food to eat, instead of clean plates in cupboards, stacked and neat. When the mailman brings me a handful of bills, that leave nothing left over for fun or frills, You remind me of the howling wind and storm, and I give thanks for the walls that keep me warm. In times of famine and in times of feast, You reach out to bless, not the best, but the least. And so, I say on this day of thanksgiving, Thank you, God, for the blessings I am living. WRitten for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Week 15 Prompt - image of a thank you note |
| Maine Autumn draws the peepers - those foliage seekers, whose shutters open and close on nature’s last colorful spree. Summer has withdrawn, stunning onlookers in her fiery demise. But other, more patient eyes, wait for the beauty of nuance. Pennsylvania Winter is a quiet grace. It is the peace of a soft snowfall that covers our sins, but traces our footsteps in shadows. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" Prompt/Week # 14 Use at least three of the following words in your poem: stunning, nuance, colorful, last, first Inspired by: February 2nd 1942 by Andrew Wyeth https://www.arkellmuseum.org/content/andrew-wyeth-1917-2009-february-2nd-1942-19... |
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