To Her Who Shines Bright #MothersDay #poetry

Orange sun is setting

 too few memories

I look in her garden

even bugs will do

so little remains

my little rose is gone

even tree stumps decayed

hidden in waxy green

I find her smiling face

Camillia pink blush

I want to inhale

one remnant of us

To Mothers everywhere who plant seeds in the hearts of children.

Happy Mothers Day

The Beauty in Difference #devotion #poetry

pink wild flower poster

I was wild  a little daring

boldly wearing magenta in a sea of green

standing tall at the close of spring

the thing was no one knew my name

they knew the pansies, marigolds, lobelia

I heard one flower proclaim

“she’s a beauty for a weed

she should be removed

who knows if she will infect you”

I wasn’t refined, knew little what to do

hard to define, but I like who I am

I heard the master gardener say:

“don’t stop being who you are

a time will come I will cut  away

do not dismay you will endure

long years you will smile and sway”

It’s difficult standing among a crowd and being different. Perhaps while everyone wears blue and yellow, you like orange and pink. Your shoes are tall while everyone else wears flats. Were we made to be all the same? Apparently not. Some people are petite others are large. There could be one hundred people with dark hair and that hair would be long,  straight, short, kinky, medium, bouncy, shiny, red tint, or dull with some grey. God made us this way. We are different not so that we can point out that we are the best flower in the garden but so that we can give food or shade to a certain creature, offer a rare fragrance in mid-day, cheer up someone who is downtrodden, or shine our faces in a smile to the sun. We each carry a gift that like a bouquet is an offering of beauty to our maker and to our world.

“Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.”

John 15:2

 “ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”  ~Psalm 139:14

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Ephesians 2:10

Shared today with Poetry Pantry at Poet’s United and Godinterest

Time Passage #poetry

wright bro memorial

Wright Brother Memorial

I stood on the edge of the universe

stars within my grasp

reach for them I did

I never thought to ask

nudging my fingertips

a velvety lamb’s ear

in an old forgotten grotto

nature knows she is here

In the expanse of a gallery

the paint is still fresh

though the paintings are old

where I had my first test

hand-picked stone lined path

each flower has a name

crunch of  gravel so familiar

tho I am no longer the same

This place harkens to her footsteps

welcomes me anew

tho time has passed

memories like morning dew

I was taught from before I was able to talk the value of the elderly, the importance of honor, and the lessons I could learn if I listened closely. I am sad for a generation that places so little value for those past a certain age. Because of this attitude, there are lessons unlearned/ history unheard.

There is more reality than metaphor in this poem and a gratitude beyond expression that I hold for those who taught me to reach for the stars.

I’m also sharing a link to rewrite of a fictionalized story of an elderly patient – here

The prompt from Poets United Midweek Motif – “Choose an Elder to honor in a poem…”

The Key to Paradise #haiku #photography #Gibran

“Paradise is there, behind that door, in the next room; but I have lost the key. Perhaps I have only mislaid it”. 

“He who would share your pleasure but not your pain shall lose the key to one of the seven gates of Paradise”. ~Gibran

stairs in garden

Streets of gold

gaze into the eyes of God

who needs concrete

*

treasure’s key

incomparable beauty

began in a garden

shiny key 1

Today’s prompt at Chevrefeuille’s Carpe Diem is “Paradise.” And more words of inspiration from Gibran…

The Door to the Garden #atozchallenge #poetry #art

d

entrance to another world

crack it open

songs stream through the opening

throw it wide

sunlight treasure dusts your path

go through the door

look upon adventure

don’t look back

behind you is gone

your past is a closed book

keep walking

surprise in the garden

 you are never alone

love grows here

 its fresh scent opens your eyes

awaiting spring

 

 

 

Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment…

~Carl Sandburg

Didactic Poetry: A form of verse, the aim of which is to instruct the mind and improve morals. (information on forms gathered from Poetry Soup)

The painting: “Filoli Courtyard” is one of my mother’s paintings. It kept me sane this past winter.

Lover’s Dance #valentine #poetry #photography

love me calla

Gentle mist upon my forehead

covers me with diamond dew

fragrant kisses call me softly

velvet points our pas de deux

Let us dance upon the four winds

impassioned lovers take our cue

when night’s curtain is a falling

dearest, hold me near to you

Photography:”Love me Calla” copyright 2012 L. Moon

I had to pull an archived romantic poem for lovers today!