These Birds

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These Birds

It’s been a while

since I was visited by these birds.

I know there will be tears

when they start singing,

yet, I await their return

with hope.

These birds haven’t been here for a while.

When they are absent, I am happy, but mute.

Now I will sing with them

and keep everyone awake

all night.

GloPoWriMo Day 5

The Feather

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The Feather

I leave a bloody trail
on a white road.
Line after line.
Page after page.
I am weaker than you,
but I can knock you over.
Black as night,
white as snow,
and all colours of the rainbow.
Best of all,
I can fly all the way to the Sun
and back.


GloPoWriMo Day 4

The Meaning of Life

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The Meaning of Life

Wouldn’t you like to know why you are here, I asked him?
What the meaning of life is?
Wouldn’t you like to do something truly great
instead of just sitting here
trimming the green beans.
I was 16 at the time.
The meaning of life, he said
Is in these beans.
I will trim them,
we will eat them.
That’s what I am here for.
That’s all there is.
You’ll get it one day.
As I hold the green pods in my hand,
I understand at last.

GloPoWriMo Day 3

The Broth

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The Broth

Will you try my broth, sir? The recipe is secret. It’s been in the family for generations. My broth is good and hearty. It will cheer you up. These are chicken bones. They have health benefits. Yes, it was a rather small chicken. The green stuff? Oh, those are wild herbs. I spent all night searching for them. They have benefits too. I cooked the broth when the moon was full. That’s how you impart flavours. I made it for you. I know you want to try it. So, just stop asking questions and grab a spoon.


GloPoWriMo 2017, Day 2

Reborn

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Reborn

I saw it this morning.
A turf of grass.
My shoes were muddy
when I got home.
Could it be true?
They say
this is where the river was.
She was wild and capricious.
She flooded the fields every spring.
Flowers grew here
and weeping willows.
Nobody remembers those days.
It is hard to believe now,
when you look at this barren land.
The legend says she is still here.
That she has gone underground.
Some people claim they have heard
the roaring from within.
It is believed she will resurface one day.
Could this be it?
If I dig a hole deep enough,
will I be able to set her free?


GloPoWriMo 2017, Day 1
2017 April PAD, Day 1

A Reunion

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A reunion

The house is at the end of the road. It is just a house, anyone could live here. You wait for me at the door. You seem to be glad that I have come. You offer food, I accept. The bread is stale and you have run out of salt, you say. Never mind, you know I will eat whatever you serve me.

I admired you once. I am willing to pretend that I still do.

You bring me wine. It has a sour taste. I drink it up. I smile.

And in the garden
an apple falls, wings flap.
Then all is silent.


GloPoWriMo 2017, an Early-Bird prompt

My 2016 GloPoWriMo Favourites

Photo Credit: gurdonark via Compfight cc

Going Home

We conspired to stay here forever,

but the house crumbled around us.

The house is gone from the maps.

The river rose and washed it away.

We found ourselves, stranded,

at the top of the hill,

A newborn sea raging beneath us.

They said in the papers

the sparrows were coming back.

They built a home for the sparrows

high up in the oak tree.

Now we have to wait.

We have nightingales and flamebirds,

but no sparrows yet.

Some people don’t believe in sparrows.

They say those are just stories

told to children at bedtime.

I am going home.

My decision is final.

I will find my home

exactly as I left it.

Not a brick will be missing.

My home, as I wrote it down.

My palace, as I painted it.

GloPoWriMo Day 16

The Old Witch’s Mare

I am the mother of dragonhorses.

My children can fly into the clouds and over the sky.

No man can keep me.

I have flown with eagles and run with wolves.

So you fell asleep and lost me?

You knew that would happen.

Look under water, maybe I have grown gills.

Maybe I am hiding with foxes or sleeping with bears.

Maybe those are my eyes lurking in the dark.

You have found me twice already, but

you can’t keep running after me forever.

What kind of life would that be?

Sooner or later you will lose me again

and that will be your head on the stake.


I am proud to say that I was the featured poet for Day 21  on the NaPoWriMo website with The Old Witch's Mare. This poem was inspired by Gold Apple and Nine Peacocks.

GloPoWriMo Day 21

Unhelpful Advice

How to Build a Butterfly House

I hate to be the one to tell you:

Butterflies

don’t live in houses.

How to Dehead an Iris

Before you dehead an iris,

give it a fair trial.

Everyone deserves one.

How to Create a Dream Garden

To create a garden of your dreams,

You must learn to dream

in your garden.

How to Be a Domestic Goddess

You either are,

or you aren’t.

Nothing I tell you will turn you into one.

GloPoWriMo Day 19