Sunday, May 1, 2011

First Week in May Poems

5/8/11
(Written to water poem prompt provided by Poetic Bloomings)

Summer Sprinklers

Tiny drops tickling
her shoulders,
spraying her belly.
Her arms flung wide
hugging the water.
She dances.

A blur of drenched hair
as she twirls around
the water spout;
pink polka dots whirring.

The sun kissing her face,
browning her delicate skin.
Green grass massaging
her bare feet.

She glances my way
tiny fingers beckoning.
And we giggle as we
fall to the earth and
smile at the blue sky.


5/4/11: A Poem for My Daughters
She is the Sun
(written using prompt "on the other hand" from Poetic Asides)

To me she is the shining sun
and I am the earth and each breath she takes
leads me in a new and adventurous way.
There has not been a day yet where she doesn’t shine.
Not a day where I don’t search for her warmth.
Not a day when she doesn’t mesmerize me
while I watch her setting; a magical swirl of
orange and red and yellow.
But to you, she is a child
and I am her mother and each breath she takes
is the same as any other.
There has not yet been a day when you noticed her shine.
Not a day when you searched for her warmth.
Not a day when she mesmerized you.
But she is more, and you’ll know when you meet her.


5/2/11
Shooting Stars

I thought I could capture the stars
with the words I so carefully crafted.
I thought maybe I could at least touch them,
feel the power in my hand, bask in their light.
I thought it would be enough as I waited,
eyes focused on their beauty, wishing
on the first one I saw, but no.
The stars did not embrace me,
instead I was a shooting star, exiled from
their greatness, banished from their constellation.
I thought I could capture the stars,
but their brilliant, sparkling light evaded me.


5/1/11 a "seed" poem
(Prompt from Poetic Bloomings)

Pensive Gardener

Tilled earth cool and loose beneath her feet,
sun massaging her freckled shoulders,
an empty canvas awaiting her.
She weighs the seeds in her palm,
searching for the exact place to begin
sowing her spring masterpiece.

5/1/11
Ode to a Starry Night

The vastness overwhelms me as I
lay upon the cool green grass.
Belly up, arms spear wide.
I bathe in the twinkle of each
constellation, each glimmering star
offering a sense of hope, of wonder,
of what life could hold in it's cookie jar.
I lay facing it's greatness and fill comfort
in it's possibilities.



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