Just one more
he pleaded with his papa
this horse is my friend
and he would be sad
no need to tickle me
to hear my giggles and glee
I’m jumping to touch
the end of my rainbow
All ages jump
music sings inside their feet
high is joy
by big raindrops
water puddles seek
some under hoods
wait for God’s rainbow
Shared with Poet’s United Poets Pantry.
The picture of the rainbow I found years ago and I dont know who to attribute the beauty to.
float on the breeze
rainbow dances with the sun
Take a whirl on Sunday with Carpe Diem – the prompt is the above image.
It was unexplainable
that moment when I touched you
a giddy colorful rainbow
it was like giggles and hugs
all wrapped in one
It was unexplainable
that walk across the desert
my feet never touched the hot sand
you were firmly holding my hand
and I made it
It was unexplainable
the light in the sky
rays touched my skin
warming from within
and I knew you were near
It was unexplainable
when I learned you had died
taken all the bad things I had done
my heart you’d already won
and I cried
It was unexplainable
that moment when you touched me
a giddy colorful bubble
full of giggles and hugs
in the sun we would run
The Poets United prompt for today at Midweek Motif is Gratitude. This is a week (in the US) to really think about what we are grateful for. I am grateful for my God, family and friends!!!
Part in peace: is day before us?
Praise His Name for life and light;
Are the shadows lengthening o’er us?
Bless His care Who guards the night.
Part in peace: with deep thanksgiving,
Rendering, as we homeward tread,
Gracious service to the living,
Tranquil memory to the dead.
Part in peace: such are the praises
God our Maker loveth best;
Human hearts to heavenly rest.
Such the worship that upraises
Kristjaan Panneman takes a look at Kanshicho form of Haiku with Carpe Diem Haiku Kai:
“I will look at the separate “onji” of “Kanshicho” now and than I will try to explain what Kanshicho was meant to be.
Kan -> means: perception, expression
Shi -> means extravagance, pride, poetry
Cho -> means frivolity, number, butterfly
Kanshi -> means Chinese poetry
As I place those meanings together than Kanshicho means:
A poem in the Chinese way that expresses the extravagance and pride of the poet with the frivolity of the flight of a butterfly. And than Kanshicho starts to come to life. It’s an expression of something which is seen by the poet, a moment as short as the sound of a pebble thrown in to water, in which he/she sees the extravagant beauty and pride of nature. That extravagance beauty is caught in a three lined verse with the frivolity, (in my opinion frivolity means “not strings attached, free”) of the flight of a butterfly.”
So here’s my shot at unconventional frivolous haiku:
there was a rainbow
at the end of every storm
rather than a tender heart
torn adrift, forlorn
there was sunshine
to greet with each new day
instead of endless tears
washing banks of hope away
I within your arms
ta hield against the cold
breaking shadow’s greying spell
that’s what’s been foretold
If only I imagine
a warm and moonlit night
your sunshiny kiss
dispels the lingering cold
of a wintry frosty mist
I can only
dream pink petal snow
brushing against my face
soothing all the sadness
not leaving any trace
close my sleepy eyes
ruefully hope and pray
to see your smile
joyous rainbow in any day
The Ode: A formal, often ceremonious lyric poem that addresses and often celebrates a person, place, thing, or idea. Its stanza forms vary.
The odes of the English Romantic poets vary in stanza form. They often address an intense emotion at the onset of a personal crisis or celebrate an object or image that leads to revelation. (Information gathered from Poetry Foundation)
Traditionaally each stanza is 10 lines ( I ended up breaking mine down).
I woke up from a deep sleep to the same thing “nothing.” I guess I should be thankful; I have a job and a room of my own. But most many days it is difficult to wake up to being blind. Have you ever wondered what the color yellow looks like? I can feel yellow, I can taste yellow, but I can never see yellow. When you hear the triumphant screech of a hawk that has seized its prey do you appreciate the swooping motion he makes as he dances in the sky? I can hear the dance – I will never see it.
I hate hearing. My ears taunt me with a knowing that my eyes will never experience. My teachers applauded the senses.
“your ears will hear better, you fingers will feel more intently as if to compensate for the loss of one of your senses.
“Easy for you to say teach you have all of your senses intact.”
“Tap,tap, tap.” my finely tuned ears can hear the white and red stick that acts as a replacement for my eyes. Not that I know what red or white looks like.
“Good Morning,” my ears hear an unfamiliar, melodic, perfectly tuned voice. “Good Morning Miss, ” hoping she can’t sense the insincerity in my greeting. She does something unexpected; she grabs my arm but she’s not steering me like most feel inclined to do out of pity. “I am new here; please show me to my desk.” I rarely am asked to help people. Obviously because everyone believes I am helpless. The smile on my face is now genuine as I deliver her to her spot. “Have a nice morning miss.” “It would be so nice to have lunch with a familiar face.” “Gladly. I’ll see you at the lunch hour.” I had never used those words before “I’ll see you.” For some reason I felt as though I might “see her.”
We could have talked way past the allocated lunch hour. She was so energetic, interesting, full of life. I imagined the way she looked. Tall, long hair, beautiful eyes, radiant smile, gorgeous. We established a routine. We met each morning outside, had lunch, parted for the day outside of the office. I didnt’ want to be too forward so I waited until Friday to see if she wanted to get drinks after work. She acted as though she had no other plans, no other friends, and made me a priority. It was nice to feel important to one person. We danced by the moonlight. I was grateful for my acute sense of touch; her body felt so good in my arms. Friday became a weekend of lunch, dinner and brunch.
Monday through Friday she found a fresh flower on her desk each morning from me.
One morning I heard a few of the ladies gabbing, “Oh how sweet for both of them.”
“Yes the perfect couple. Fortunately he will never know.”
“What “won’t I ever know? ” I wondered.
I was now grateful for my finely tuned ears. I knew her voice. Though she was cubicles away I could hear her sigh or murmur.
I never thought it would happen but I was falling in love. I believe she was too. After a night of wine, good food, and dancing; she asked me in to her place. I held her, we kissed, my hands wandered, our bodies became intertwined under white gauze and moonlight.
Heaven must have been singing that night for I truly was. I woke the next morning with her head on my shoulder. My fingers had been so alert to her shape that it seemed as though I could make out her shape and see black tresses cascade about my shoulder.
“Is this what love is like when you are tricked and you see images with your mind?” I smiled.
As we walked to work that morning, I experienced the colors of the rainbow raining down on my heart. Blues, greens, reds, pinks, purples, and yes yellows bombarded my senses. I walked her to her desk and beheld something not from my mind, or my ears, or my fingers. I saw the biggest chocolaty eyes peer up at me accompanied by a radiant smile. For the first time I saw!
The doctor examined my eyes and said, “It’s a miracle. Be careful as you adjust to this new sense and enjoy.”
My ears were still acute as they heard the women “I wonder how long it will last now that he can see. Once he sees how ugly the scars, from the fire, have made her, I wonder how long he will be able to bear it?”
That night I touched the scars that my fingers knew so well.
I pulled her face toward mine, “the light has shown me how beautiful you are. I never want to let you go.”
Join me and read the other wonderful short stories on Theme Thursday. Our prompt was Light.
Thanks Velo Steve for the great Rainbow (perfect)
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
Thanks for following a cowgirl on her crazy life journey.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe
Hoping to make the world more beautiful
Books by author Diana Coombes
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
my humanity in written form
Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....
Poetry by Mich
FOR READERS AND ASPIRING WRITERS
Everyday musings ....Life as I see it.......my space, my reflections and thoughts !!
From Board Books to Clean YA
Cherishing the Past while Celebrating the Present
FROM ONE PARENT TO ANOTHER
Living life with dissociative identity disorder and complex ptsd
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