C is for CHILDHOOD #Poetry Month and #AtoZChallenge

April #AtoZChallenge and #PoetryMonth

 

Three goals I had in mind while writing my collection of linked poetry:

1. To celebrate my appreciation of life

2. To experience the process of writing linked poetry, a form of Japanese renshi

3. To give thanks for and better appreciate a life well-lived.

 

The flowers are a colorful bonus for the #AtoZChallenge

 

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C is for Childhood and Camilla

 

Childhood

A Magical Adventure

 

Gramma Anna shuffles the deck

for another round of five-card Rummy.

I am four years old.

The crystal candy dish visible

in the glass-front dining room hutch

holds round white mints with xxx on top.

My mouth waters at the thought of

those sugary xxx marks on my tongue,

melting. 

Deep purple plums, tangy

in their under-ripe bitterness.

At age six, a secret treasure mined

From Gramma Julia’s garden.

Kitchen fragrance,

dough rising beneath a clean

flour-sack towel.

Fillings of poppyseed, raspberry, and prune

crowned with sweet whipped cream.

Childhood

in retrospect

outshines the brightest star.

 

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Visits with my grandmothers, Anna on my mother’s side, Julia on my dad’s side, are recalled in the context of food. Both baked excellent pies, cakes, breads, and biscuits. Their candy dishes were always full.

Why do you suppose this poem might offer either a feeling of contentment or wash over someone like a wave of sorrow?

B is for BLESSED SLEEP #AtoZChallenge

April #AtoZChallenge and #PoetryMonth

 

Three goals I had in mind while writing my collection of linked poetry:

1. To celebrate my appreciation of life

2. To experience the process of writing linked poetry, a form of Japanese renshi

3. To give thanks for and better appreciate a life well-lived.

 

The flowers are a colorful bonus for the #AtoZChallenge

 

***   ***   ***

 

B is for Blessed Sleep and Bougainvillea

 

Scene in Kaimuki on O'ahu
photo by Gail Baugniet

 

Blessed Sleep

 

With eyelids squeezed tight

you count down from ten

then twenty, fifty, a hundred

to no avail. 

Silence begs for shouting

to distract the thoughts

that won’t allow, grant, permit

blessed sleep. 

Sirens peel strips of flesh

from your insomniac mind,

daring fingers and lips

to remain still.

 ***   ***   ***

This poem describes an accelerating reaction, as a taunting voice issues a dare to find peace outside the pain of noisy chaos. Sleeplessness leads to growing agitation. Worries mount, seeping into the conscious mind and likely assuring that any hope of sleep is futile.

What thoughts surfaced as you read the words of this poem?

A is for ANOTHER NEW BEGINNING #PoetryMonth and #AtoZChallenge

ANOTHER NEW BEGINNING

70 Poems for 70 days available at Amazon

 

70 poems for 70 days is a collection of linked poems. They are patterned after renshi poetry, which links each poem to the next. I introduced these poems during an #AtoZChallenge for bloggers during a  poetry month of April. I wrote each poem as part of a larger project, linking the poems together renshi-style. However, the poems are being posted here with an eye toward the alphabet, as viewing things through a different set of eyes often gives one a new perspective. I am eager to see how my poetry presents itself when removed from the structured context. May this prove to be an interesting experiment for everyone.

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The impetus for this collection of poetry was an occurrence still fresh in my mind. The ink for my first poem fairly spilled onto the page as I recalled the words of a nice college-aged young man who had sauntered over to me at a Honolulu bus stop on June 11th, King Kamehameha Day. 





Lei draping on King Kamehameha Day



 

The young man offered me a tiny yellow blossom. He smiled and said, “A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.” I’m sure my appearance reminded him of  his (exceptionally alert  and  spry)grandmother. Perhaps he was feeling nostalgic for home. I accepted the flower and smiled back. With a light step, he departed, and I felt he had made the world a brighter place for having shared his joie de vivre.

 

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A Tiny Flower

 

Gold, each tiny petal

unites to form the helmet

of a flower’s bloom.

 

Together, their beauty

like solid sunshine

takes my breath away

 

A kind word, shared

without expectation, forms

a binding link to the universe.

 

Gazes remain fixed

as I board TheBus in silence

and still smiling, take my seat

 

Air brakes lift

We roll forward, and

the universe smiles back.

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Gold, each tiny petal

 

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