The earth is teeming with delights!
We have a few, but want them all.
They beckon with a siren call
And offer solace in the night.
But o the folly, o the fright!
Awakening upon the worst,
We find our hoped-for blessings cursed;
Our choices hasty and unwise…
But we can choose the Spirit’s eyes
And focus on the Heavens first!
—
Written for
Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 29 (FRIGHT) This week, it’s the A rhyme line.
In folly frenzy finds us caught
When running races we are off
With dashed decisions’ desperate calls
Inviting us to folly’s halls.
By taking tests and testing time,
We rest in rhythm’s reasoned rhyme.
With Nature’s knowing we are fed
By bearing boldly, being blessed!
When frenzy’s folly faces fate,
We wait on wisdom’s choice to make!
—
My response to
DVerse Poetics: Folly.
We know the things we shouldn’t do,
But often we refuse to wait.
We’re causing karma, tempting fate
With consequences. That’s the truth.
Yet we’re not lost, and we’re not through!
The soul within us always lasts
In present’s future, leaving past.
We’re living out the ebb and flow
That Nature-God already knows,
By choice becoming what we ask!
—
A Decima for this week’s challenge:
Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 28 (FATE) This week, it’s the B rhyme line.
If I didn’t know better, I would say this song could have been written just yesterday. That’s how relevant it still is. Yet the American songwriter, Stephen Foster, especially known for his Civil War-era songs, wrote “Hard Times Come Again No More” in 1854. The song asks the fortunate to consider those less fortunate than themselves–something we would all do well to consider.
It was originally written in the key of G, making it a breeze for banjo, guitar, and fiddle players. Here I play it in C, on zither and recorder, and you’ll hear me sing 3 verses.
We all know that hard times will come again, unfortunately. Still I hope you enjoy this arrangement of Foster’s timely classic!
All bases covered
One choice made in an instant
Ruins best laid plans
—
A Haiku-like poem for today’s #Threethingschallenge at
Pensitivity101.
Life is not a yellow brick road,
But more of a march down the road less traveled.
We can plot out our trip on a chalkboard,
Follow the map to Plymouth Rock,
Or take a taxi anywhere on land
That we can afford to go.
But life is not a yellow brick road
Or a brown-paper package
Wrapped up invitingly.
It’s more of a journey
Of tissues, scars, scratches, and scrapes.
The funny thing is,
Like the pain of labor to bring a child into this world,
We forget most of the trials
In our moments of sweetness
On our march down the road less traveled!
—
My response to Linda Kruschke’s
Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #42.
Poetry and songs are what I love to write! They elevate my spirit and my mood, and, I hope, others’ as well. At times I am amazed by the monthly crop of poems I get to grow and share!
The pattern of songs is not nearly as consistent as it once was. If I think about this too much, it annoys and deeply irritates me, makes me cry, or sends me into hysterics. I wrote an original song every week for three years straight, then tapered off to two songs every month. I didn’t write any for almost 18 months, but for part of that time, I was moving, had no instruments, and was planning our wedding.
Then, the transition of marriage was very difficult for me–in truth it still is–and I have trouble just finding the time, the space, and above all, the quiet and solitude for composing. But songwriting is still a drive of mine, and without it, everything and everyone pushes my buttons!
I do manage to arrange other pieces, and this is a different musical blessing. I can learn a new vamp and just enjoy playing like a busker, though I’m inside, and no one is listening until I’ve recorded something.
Recording is yet another thing, as every thump, every movement of the upstairs and downstairs neighbors, every siren and street sound is caught and preserved for eternity, even when I think it’s quiet!
Once several years ago, I took my ukulele outside and sat in my mom’s car just to record in a quieter environment. But it’s what I do!
Sometimes I just want to pack up my instruments, leave the unknowing pests behind, and hunt for a peaceful place in the woods, where only the sounds of nature will accompany me!
But it’s Friday, and it’s a good Friday! For with every swipe through my blog reader, I’m given a laugh, a prompt, or a new idea! Maybe one day soon, some of those ideas will become songs!
—
My “take Seven” response to the daily #Threethingschallenge words for this week. Add yours at
Pensitivity101!
Play or download the poem with lyre accompaniment.
What we don’t know, we cannot miss,
Except for longing deep inside.
The Music only Love provides
Brings Peace and Comfort, Joy and Bliss.
Now hear the magic of the gliss*
That lifts us to a higher place,
Where there’s no conflict we must face.
The Love we try but fail to find
Exists forever in the mind
Beyond our mortal time and space!
*Gliss, short for Glissando: Italian musical term meaning a continuous slide upward or downward between two notes.
—
This is a Decima for
Ronovan Writes Decima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 27: Bliss. This week, it’s the A rhyme line.
I’m forever fielding questions and conflicts, smoothing out the rough edges of life and personalities for my loved ones, or trying to.
I’ve just finished refereeing a match between the personalities, desires, and feelings of my husband and my son.
The real issue is mine, and it is this:
I’m damn tired of putting others’ fragile egos before my own preferences!
Sorry, I didn’t mean “before;” I meant “over and above,” “instead of,” “regardless of,” whichever you choose, it’s still the same.
And I have just enough energy left to ask myself what would happen if I met my own expectations for a change, instead of meeting the expectations of others at the expense of my own!
—
Six sentences for Denise’s “field” prompt at
#SixSentenceStories!
It’s human nature to ask questions. When we lose a loved one, we ask why God took them from us. When someone we love has a serious accident or becomes very ill, we ask why it had to happen to them. When we feel emotional despair, we ask God why He has forsaken us, when all we want is for the pain to go away and peace to enfold our minds and hearts. When we see violence, hunger, suffering, and hardship in the world, we ask why God doesn’t stop it.
There is nothing wrong with our questions. It’s human nature to ask why. But we look at Him through the wrong end of the long telescope of time. We only see our present lives and circumstances, thinking there is nothing more. But God sees everything, all at once, through the telescope of Eternity!
—
A prosery piece of 144 words, using the line in bold from “The Hummingbird” by D.H. Lawrence, for Kim’s prompt at
dVerse.
Mystical Strings 
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