30th April 2021
Because I have limited time, I end the 30 day challenge with NaPoWriMo with a simple Haiku. The form for a Haiku is, traditionally, three lines of 5, 7 5, syllables. There are other aesthetic considerations which I haven't necessarily followed here. The form is enough today.
Coming to The End
Thirty days have passed,
the pilgrimage ends, yet new
words call me onward
29th April 2021
This poem just came very quickly with the prompt this morning and it took all of ten minutes to pen. There are probably plenty of errors, but I'm posting anyway. The prompt was to imagine looking through a window and describe what you see.
Looking Through the Window
There she goes, off to the book launch.
It's the fourth time but she still finds it unreal,
like it's happening to someone else.
The car has come for her, a black limo.
Slowly, elegantly she steps in, her little red shoes
just visible under the long multicoloured dress,
her hair, which on normal days she ties back
with an elastic band,
now arranged in a beautiful bun, with ringlets
framing her wrinkled yet youthful face.
She didn't dare dream of these moments
when, ten years ago, at sixty five,
she began to write.
She waves from the window, majestically,
enjoying her moment.
28th April 2021
Continuing with NaPoWriMo, which is nearly finished. I haven't made every day, but I've done a fair bit of the month.
Now there are only two days left. let's see if I can get to the end with two more poems to finish.
I have to attribute the first line of the poem to the poet
Simon Armitage. I thank him for the inspiration.
Once,
the future was a place of beauty,
A place where, getting old together,
you and I would
Walk by the sea, kick up the stones,
laugh loudly,
While a gentle breeze breathes
through our hair.
Where, we softly stroll
among fresh,
fields of daffodils,
Yellow flowers, greeting
the spring,
perhaps you pick one,
tickle me under my chin,
do you still like butter?
as if you don't know.
A familiar, fresh, warmth
caresses our bodies.
you shut the curtains,
you offer me a glass of red,
you sit beside me.
We could share a poem together,
remember fondly, when
the children were young,
shed tears of gratitude
For each other, for all the blessings
For the life we’d had, together.
But now, that beautiful place,
that future
has been stolen away
ripped from my hands,
By your fading,
your weakening, day after day,
by memories of
sitting by your hospital bed,
Of holding your
hand, as,
so silently, you slipped away.
The future has become
an empty place - dark,
cold,
I’d rather not go there.
24th April 2021
For NaPoWriMo today, I'm going to try to write a sonnet - a first for me.
Playing with the form.
He Had A Lovely Smile
Nothing could prepare me for that day,
When I first saw him looking straight at me.
It was on the beach we first began to play,
And both of us dashed in and out the sea.
He had the most attractive sort of smile,
It captured me and drew me in for sure.
He looked at me with longing all the while
His intentions I convinced myself were pure.
We spent the summer months on golden sands
Walking , talking dreaming, holding hands.
Yet at summers close it all came to an end
I discovered that our love was all pretend .
22nd April
Oh look, it looks like I didn't post this:
1st April
Napowrimo Again - a poem a day in April
Day 1
No Chicken
22nd April 2021
NaPoWriMo day 22.
Now that we can meet and get a take away coffee, I've been catching up with friends.
I find that we're so eager to tell each other what's been happening, I mean, even with the Lockdown we seem to have an abundance of stories and news, that we end up interrupting and rushing our words.
I think it's something we have to ease back into. It might take a while.
Coffee Outside
with Friend
"Why was I telling you that?"
"Sorry, I interrupted you, again. But..."
"So, go back to your story,
where were you?"
"That reminds me..."
"No, go on... I'm listening..."
"So, you were saying..."
"What were you saying?"
"Why was I telling you that?"
"Oh, would you look at the sparrows,
they're coming so close..."
"Sorry, I interrupted again...
this cake is good...
are you cold, you're shivering..."
"It was so good to see you...
Shall we go?"
21st April 2021
And another day at NaPoWriMo.
Let's go.
Where are the words?
What About Us
This morning I see lambs
in a field,
woolly, soft, sitting
in spots of spring
sunshine,
or wobbling weakly,
wandering,
on thin legs.
the air still cool.
Silent trees,
heavy with blossom.
Abundant future,
hidden on each branch.
A breath of breeze
gifts me scent
of a long ago day.
And along the lane
crocuses, daffodils,
primroses,
beckon me forwards,
towards,
that day.
And what about, us
the two of us,
what about us...
20th April 2021
Welcome to day 20 of NaPoWriMo. I have no clue what to write today.
Something might come to me.
Ok, I'll just go with some words that came to me from todays Gospel reading:
John 6 : 30-35. One of my favourites.
"I am the bread of life"
The people ask Jesus for a sign.
Are we still asking for signs.
Are there not enough,
in scripture,
in our daily lives,
for us to ponder on,
not enough to help us believe.
It's true isn't it ,
that for those who believe
no sign is needed,
but for those without belief,
no sign is enough.
Jesus tells them,
He is the bread of life.
To me that means
He is my sustenance,
all I need.
Jesus is everything
I need,
my life.
19th April 2021
Continuing to attempt NaPoWriMo.
here's my response
to the prompt to write a poem in answer
to one of the "chpaters from Susan G.
Wooldridge’s Poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words"
I chose - "listening to ourselves"
How are you?
A simple greeting, SIMPLE
most of us use it.
What does it mean?
Is it really asking
the question,
or is it code CODE
to be deciphered.
Does it require
an answer?
The Irish will say,
expecting it
mirrored back, MIRROR
"How'r ya..."
which , translated,
means, hello, hi there, or good day.
So often, "how are you?"
is short for,
hello, nice to see you, HELLO
but please don't
actually tell me,
I don't want to know,
how you are,
I haven't got time
to listen to you today.
But occasionally,
with upspeak tone,
and a soft pause,
we hear the question
and know someone ANYONE?
will listen.
Seriously though,
tell me now,
I've plenty
of time, TIME
How are you?
17th April 2021
Continuing with NaPoWriMo.
Into The Shadows
15th April
Day 15 of NaPoWriMo
For a dear friend who died last year
Jim O The Mill
You are with me, this morning
in my mediation,
You, dressed in purple, pink and red,
fire flames dance daintily or your face.
14th April 2021
Day 14 of NaPoWriMo.
Shells
12th April
Day 12 of NaPoWriMo
Taking a prompt from a few days ago to write a letter to yourself and answer it.
In Haiku form
You and Me
Much disturbs the mind
fills it with fear, discontent,
the future is dark
Look beyond yourself,
give yourself to those in need,
clam your soul with love
9th April 2021
As it's the season of Easter I am reminded how I spent Easter Sunday Last year:
From my journal:
12th April 2020 - Easter Sunday.
I am stuck in the little bedroom, isolating from everyone. I've had a dry cough, a sore chest, an achy body for four days now.
Could it be Covid 19.
I don't feel too bad this morning but I'm following advice, staying in.
It's the second week since hubby's cancer op. He seems more settled and his meds are under control.
Me? I'm exhausted. To be truthful, looking after him has been a 24 hour job. Managing his pain is the worst. But now, I've abdicated my responsibilities. My daughter is stepping in, not only with hubby's care, but, ironically, also mine, as well as doing all the cooking for the four of us living in the house.
The way I feel, I'm not bothered whether dinner gets cooked or not, or whether anybody eats or not. Those who know me will say "she must be really ill".
We keep to the rules, None of us will go out for fourteen days. All of us find this the most difficult. I'll miss my walks and going to the shops. We try to book supermarket delivery spots, but there's none to be had. Our son says he'll do it for us and drop off on his way home. This irritates me. I don't trust anyone else to do my shopping.
I'm hoping what I have doesn't progress and that dear hubby doesn't get it. He's suffered enough.
Being Easter Sunday I "go to" Mass at Haddenham Church. With all the churches closed, there's are a lot online now. We get to choose where to go. Anywhere in the world - quite exciting. Not the same as the real thing, of course and I can't wait for the churches to reopen.
The tension is getting to us all, especially my son, who doesn't like being cooped up in the house with us.
But hey, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and I spend half an hour in the garden, social distancing, obviously.
It's boring staying in the bedroom by myself. An Easter aroma drifts up the stairs, tells me the lamb is cooking. through my nose I take a deep breath of memory, of mystery, of magic. Here comes dinner. I might try some, for the ritual, to be part of the uniting.
Did anyone get Easter eggs? It doesn't seem to be important.
It's a strange Easter Sunday celebration.
Usually we see the rest of the family, but this year, it's just the four of us.
8th April 2021
NaPoWriMo day 8, following prompt.
Taken too Soon
I wasn’t meant to be here yet,
In this cold grave.
But circumstances,
Uncontrollable,
Unavoidable,
Caused it to be so.
I’m not saying it was a happy life,
But unhappy? Not really.
However,
to be cut off in my
prime,
And wouldn’t you say forty-nine
Is pretty young,
Forty nine!
To be taken at that age…
On that particular page,
Well, it didn’t seem fair.
You see, cancer came for me,
He said,
“You’re coming with me.”
And within a month
He had his way.
I had so much to look forward to
So many plans
The children, three of them,
Growing up,
Leaving home.
More time for me,
For my dreams.
The novel,
The travelling,
And finally, saying yes
To his secret advances,
To his secret advances,
I regret that the most.
6th April 2021
My day five offering, even though it's day six. I promise to try to catch up.
Butterfly
Slowly, the butterfly
emerges from its cocoon,
opens wide it's wings,
reds, yellows, blues,
all hues,
sparkle in the sunlight.
Now it takes flight,
You, like the butterfly,
you also, have gone
through many changes,
you also, have had
a long journey.
Now, you also
are beautiful,
you also, are free.
Fly little butterfly,
Fly
3rd April 2021
Day 3 of NaPoWriMo
Sixth Century Oratory
Like entering the tomb,
I step from grassy hill
through an outer, modern, brick wall,
down, into this small, dark space.
There, feet in two inches of
muddy water, my eyes try to focus
in the dim light.
A whiff of ancient ancestors,
still held in these old stones.
Jangling, clinking
rosaries, haunt
the ruined altar.
I expect an apparition of St Piran,
in brown habit, halo round his head,
to shimmer past.
I stand in sweet silence,
prayer rises from
my soul,
fills me with
new life.
2nd April 2021.
So, we come to the second day. Don't forget, you can join in too. Just go to NaPoWriMo.net .
Good Friday.
Death, dear friend, I have no fear of your coming,
For it will be just an instant,
from one short breath to no breath.
But what frightens me more
is what might come before,
the how of approaching the end.
Those imaginings sometimes swirl
around in my mind, like a tornado,
when least expected.
Today, Love dies,
and part of me, the part that yearns,
wants to join him,
now,
Yet, I question if I am ready,
ready to leave behind,
those other loves.
Not for me, you understand,
but for them.
1st April 2021
And so it begins, NaPoWriMo - National Poetry Writing Month. Poets and others ( I'm probably one of the others) post a poem a day for the whole month of April. Check it out here if you're interested in taking part.
https://www.napowrimo.net/
And here's my first one.
Holy Thursday
I creep into the upper room,
sit quietly in the corner.
With every slow breath
I inhale a promise
of the feast,
lamb roasting,
bitter herbs,
everything ready.
Outside, rushing feet
on cobbles,
laughter, shouting,
the streets a throng
for Passover.
Now, I hear louder steps
on the stairs.
You enter the room
with your twelve friends.
they jostle and jab each other
to get near you.
John sidles up by your side,
brave, bold, burning
with love.
Stories, jokes, memories,
shared,
a family gathering,
almost.
During the meal,
you become serious,
a silence descends
All wait.
You take bread,
bless it, break it,
"This is my Body..."
Share it
You take the cup,
"This is my blood,
shed for you..."
Share it.
What does it mean?
I want this too...
Why this longing?
Judas leaves,
your eyes follow him
sadly.
Other things happen,
you wash their feet,
you give them - me,
a new commandment,
"Love on another,
as I have loved you..."
When you go out,
I touch the cup
that you held,
put it to my lips,
follow you.
