This was a project I did basically during the pandemic. I started writing a poem a day. Once ‘real life’ started again it got harder to write everyday, which is interesting.
I have started to edit some of these mostly the kids poetry. I think there might be enough here for a book. We shall see.
Let’s Meet Peter
it is time to meet a new small friend
let us call him Peter
he needs something fun to do
to rhyme with his name? ... eater?
Peter is a bee
he lives in that there hive
he loves to buzz around the yard
it makes him feel alive
his favorite kind of flower
the one he eats the most
is lovely luscious lavender
his most beloved host
we will follow Peter
as time goes along
it will be good to know him
to learn his Peter Bee Song
bare
shelby the squirrel scampered
all over the snow
her nut stores were down to zero
she had no place to go
the winter had been a long one
her tail was mighty thin
to find one nut or berry now
quite the needed win
she spied the squirrel merelda
chewing a very large nut
“can i have a small bit?”
out her front foot she did jut
merelda and shelby were friends
had been since their birth
but merelda was also hungry
winter thinning her girth
in this moment of question
to share or not to share
merelda made the kind choice
showed she really cared
these squirrel friends shine a light
bare an important truth of life
asking a friend for help
can put an end to deepening strife
a friend you can rely on
to turn to when in need
who moves beyond the selfish
is not bound up with greed
shelby and merelda are fine now
the snow melts more each day
the time of growth is upon them
with nature this is the way
something new - the senryu
I am the haiku,
perhaps the most popular
of all the poems.
How do you know me?
Count first to five, then seven,
back to five...the end.
I should talk about
nature. But today, I am
breaking all the rules.
Here is a secret.
In truth, I am called senryu.
You can look me up.
Just because I’m nice —
here is a great article
about me, senryu.
a magical hat
what if you had
a magical hat
a little bit like...
remember that cat?
when you would wear it
you could do special things
make a bath bubble
make a phone ring
you could go where you wanted
where would you go?
where mountains tower?
where rivers flow?
i would go to place
where people are kind
i could make a mistake
and no one would mind
i would use my neat hat
to make love fill the air
take away troubles
ease long worn cares
make every person
feel one of a part
no one left out
no hard heavy hearts
maybe one day
the hat blows away
but the changes it made,
maybe they stay?
three six five
i said that i would write
a poem every day
i find myself asking —
will it be ok??
can i find the words
to fill up three six five
keep having more ideas
will my hobby....survive?
it is an awful lot of days
all strung together
what i can say is this —
i’m thankful for the weather
that is always changing
somewhere to reflect
but this is pretty hard...
just want to be direct
i plan to keep on going
no matter the season
i said that i would do it
that is the big reason
i’ve said it before
i will say it again here
thank you for your reading,
for being here this year
❤️
some days you feel silly
some days you feel silly
some days you feel mad
some days you feel quiet
some days you feel sad
all these different feelings
pass as do the clouds
seem to move more quickly
when they are allowed
the fisherman
the fisherman lives in a hut, alone
near the water, on the sand
he tends his small cabin
each morning comes a gull and wakes him
each morning, sweeping the sand from the floor
he talks to the waves
the gull expects him to be there
the sand waits to be swept
the ocean answers his call
the fisherman, a part of this place
near the water, on the sand
he is never alone
the month of many hearts
I thought I would write about Love
in this month of many hearts
but no good words have found me
despite my many weak starts
Love is like a diamond
Love can be wicked and cruel
Love surrounds each one of us
Love can play you a fool
Love may be too much
for my silly simple words
leave it to stars and flowers and spring
look there and Love can be heard
prime grime
reuse the same darn rhyme
this poem is a crime
like sucking on a lime
not something so sublime
good night, it’s my bed time
dancing words
a poem doesn’t have to rhyme
it can be driven by internal rhythm
a beat drummed
beneath
the poem’s own feet
moves the words
and keeps them all
dancing
seek and hide
you think a big idea
feel it form within your mind
you want to share it with a friend
but the words you just can’t find
why do thoughts look so different
when looked at from inside
the time comes to meet the world
the pieces run and hide
Yanick’s Best Hat, Part 2
The snow got ever deeper
Up to his ankles, his knees, his waist
The wind finally gave in
Maybe tired of being chased
The best hat dropped
A few short yards ahead
Yanick stretched all of himself toward it
reaching madly he grabbed a thread
He drew his best hat to him
Dusted it off a bit
Pulled it tightly onto his head
Such a warm and cozy fit
The storm’s rage had ended
Yanick noticed as he turned around
He looked into the distance
No landmarks to be found
He had traveled many miles
Much farther than he thought
All ahead was blackness
His stomach began tying a knot
Just then a small miracle happened
The moon waltzed out into the sky
All of the world lit up
Yanick breathed out a hugely deep sigh
A special truth about snow
It tracks wherever you go
When moonlight creates its glow
The way home is something you know
Yanick’s Best Hat, Part 1
Yanick grabbed his best shovel
He headed out in the storm
wanted to clear a wide path
All bundled up to keep warm
The snow was falling heavy
Blowing this way and that
A strong solid gust came up
And tore off Yanick’s best hat
It went flying into the darkness
Yanick didn’t hesitate one bit
He went running after that hat with abandon
It was the first one he had found that would fit
He ran without even thinking
Out into the deep snow-filled fields
His hat always floating before him
the wind unwilling to yield
What happened next to dear Yanick?
As he ran further out in the snow
Just for some fun on a Tuesday
You will have to read tomorrow to know 😊
A Silly Valentine
Roses are red
Jam can be spread
I might have it
on some fine bread
Violets are blue
Gum’s fun to chew
I’m making bad rhymes
Happy Valentine’s to You
😍😍😍
your self
some of your self
what people see
a smile and laughter
the rare use of me
some of your self
shows up for friends
a listener, a witness
an ear to be bent
some of your self
takes all the air
needs to express
big thoughts to be shared
the sum of your self
all the parts true
depends on the context
which is in view
the sum of yourself
can it be measured
maybe no matter
let it be treasured
frozen in place
what happens underneath the snow?
are the earthworms caught in suspended animation
frozen in place until the ground thaws
frozen in place and waiting
for the future to allow them to move again
a carrot shaped idea
where do ideas come from
are they hidden underground
growing like a potato
waiting to be found
do they float around the sky
like fine pieces of dust
still air lets them settle
busyness disrupts like a gust
maybe they exist already
in our giant brain
waiting for the right conditions
clouds forming to make rain
or perhaps they are given
from something we can’t see
listening to the silence
this might be the key
my favorite conjecture here is they
are growing in the ground
waiting for us to find them
so we must dig around
get our hands dirty
use our mind spade
and play what
carrot shaped
idea have I
unearthed
today?