Nature’s Night #Sonnet #Poem

A supernova flies across the sky!
It pulls me from a melancholy time.
I wonder how a being such as I
Could miss a fascination so sublime!

The scent of lavender comes sweetly round
To ease a troubled mind before I sleep.
The night air, softly, gently blowing down,
Takes what must go, and tells what I must keep.

The wild blue yonder always points the way,
Unchanging Self with ever-changing view.
I, too, can change my thoughts in night or day,
And deep within I Am the Light of Truth.

It isn’t simply nature as it seems,
But beauty to enjoy and teach us things!


A Sonnet for Linda Kruschke’s
Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #44

Flash of Encouragement #Haiku #Poem

Like a flash of smoke
Error’s illusions destroy
What took time to build.

What took time to build
Required strength and hard work
To achieve the goal.

To achieve the goal,
We must step outside the box
In faith and courage.

In faith and courage,
We go on despite failure;
Nature shows us how.


Shi Rensa Haiku
written for
#Threethingschallenge #412

Wedding Day

The splashing of pink rain boots announced her impending arrival. Even though it was their wedding day, only she was happy.

Everyone else was acting like the day–gloomy, dark, and dreary. Sure, the weather was miserable, but did all the guests have to be miserable, too?

Finally, with her arrival, the guests came to life! She had exchanged her pink rain boots for even pinker slippers, and as she danced into the sanctuary, the guests applauded. Some even laughed!

How could they not? I mean, here was the lovely, accomplished, prim and proper wedding harpist, not only in pink slippers, but dancing down the aisle, harp strapped securely to her chest, playing with abandon, heralding the bride’s all-important entrance!

Only the bride was unhappy now. Why, oh why, did she have to follow the harpist? Everyone was paying attention to the wrong woman coming down the aisle!


My response to Dylan’s
First Line Friday

My Kindred #Poem

My kindred are the instruments
For sweetest music-making–
The nature of their character,
A present for our taking.

The strings within the orchestra
Are sea glass for the ears.
They ring, reflect; they laugh and cry
With smiles and then with tears.

The brass, a welcome lighthouse great,
Is pointing out the way,
With pride and power leading on
And strength for each new day.

The woodwind section fills the air
Of inner, outer space,
As sounds of singing harken back
To fragile antique lace.

A booming blizzard from the drums!
It rattles rafters high!
Our hearts quicken in unison,
Uniting rhythms rhyme.

My kindred are plum perfect
And do a job well done!
They teach that through diversity,
In truth, we all are one!


My response to Linda Kruschke’s
Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #45: Kindred

I Wonder how the Animals Feel! #Poem

I wonder how the animals feel!
When they enter our gardens to catch their crumbs,
Do they think we await them and want them to come?

I wonder how the animals feel!
When they hear our clocks chime and the noises we make,
Do they beg us to stop, for goodness sake!
Do they pray for a mute button on the remote
And wish we were still, silent like their fur coat?

I wonder how the animals feel!
When they see all our selling and marketing stuff,
Do they ask themselves, “When will enough be enough?”

I wonder how the animals feel!
Do they vision a world without people and places
So teeming with ghoulish, uncool social graces?
Would it brighten their day if we all stopped to listen
To our wonderful sky as it gleams and it glistens?

I wonder how the animals feel!
When the time comes to ring in a shiny new year,
Do they question if things will be different from here?

I wonder how the animals feel!
When we smell fetted odors that make us go “Phew!”
Do they want to exclaim, “You smell bad to us, too!”
Do they point and react to our oft foolish ways?
Or go shaking their heads through the rest of their day?

I
Wonder
How
The animals
Feel!


My response to this week’s
#Threethingschallenge Take Seven

How to Mute Your Recorder in 2020 #Music #Demo

Download Mp3 Demo

Play or download the mp3 demonstrating the mask mute for recorder! This may work with other instruments, but they might require even more air to produce sound and be in tune.

Let me know if you try this and how it goes for you! Also, if you know of a real mute for alto recorder, please let me know!

Thought Bubbles – Tale Weaver #300 #Poem

There’s a thought bubble over your head.
What does it say?

Is it a happy bubble like the ones in cartoons,
with a smiley face inside?

Or is it an angry bubble,
Complete with flames?

You may think it doesn’t matter.
After all, it’s your own personal thought.

But the truth is,
Your thoughts do matter,
Perhaps more than you will ever know!

A bubble may break,
Floating out into the abyss…
But its energy has only transformed…

It’s no longer soap on a child’s bubble wand,
But a bubble of happy energy,
Spreading and expanding,
Floating throughout time and the Universe!

Thought bubbles are just the same.
They break apart,
And their energy scatters.

You might have finished
Thinking whatever was in that particular bubble.

But someone,
Somewhere,
Whether near or far from you,
Has inadvertently encountered
Its living,
Vibrating energy!

Someone,
Somewhere,
Whether you know them or not,
And whether you realize it or not,
Is affected by the energy
Of your very own thought bubble!

There’s a thought bubble over your head.
What does it say?


Written for
MLMM Tale Weaver #300: Bubbles

“Over the River and Through the Wood” #Music

Download Mp3

“Over the River and Through the Wood” is a Thanksgiving poem written by Lydia Maria Child. It was first published in 1844 as “The New-England Boy’s Song about Thanksgiving Day.” An anonymous musician set the poem to the tune we know today. You may find it interesting to read
Over the River and Through the Wood: 7 Fun Facts
by New England Historical Society, while you listen to this fun song on lyre and alto recorder!

Patience #SixSentenceStories

“Tender the goods to me immediately!
I’ve no time for your excuses!
I want the merchandise now,
wanted it weeks, months, years ago, in fact!”

Such a conversation may get the goods,
but it will burn all our bridges in the process!

Patience is always best, though it can be difficult.
I guess that’s why they say
Patience is a virtue!


A contemplative poem written for Denise’s
#SixSentenceStories Prompt: Tender