RE: MSWRITE-NOW (One-liner Humor) The Topic? Safety

Greetings everyone!


I hope today finds you all enjoying this glorious weather for which we've waited all winter and spring.  


Over here on our home front we're in the midst of a huge outdoor beautification project that has me actually discovering fertile ground underneath blankets of vintage pine needles.  Couple that with the fact that I'm launching my zumba classes tomorrow, so I've got visions of choreography instead of sugar plums dancing in my head and you've got yourself a short and sweet MS WRITE-NOW blog entry today.


So, last week I was commuting my bad self down the hill to the big city, minding my own business when a LARGE truck hurtled into my lane, cutting me off so badly that it rendered me spitless.


I didn't even have time to engage my training horn -- meep, meep! -- to warn the big lug of the impending disaster that was two vehicles occupying the same space.


Right before he shot himself into another lane, spreading the "joy" that was his free-spirited driving method I noted his bumper sticker:




SAFETY IS MY GOAL.


Clearly.

RE: MS WRITE-NOW Waxes Philosophical on Mother's Day With Her Poem "Hen Sitting"

I don't know about all of you who write poetry, but most of my poems take me a little slice of forever before I'm satisfied with them.  


This is my one form of writing that I seem to throw and re-throw as though it's a clay pot that simply won't work itself into the shape I'm envisioning.  This means these ever-changing writings can be rendered into as many as 20 different versions of the same poem.  


What follows is a poem I wrote several years ago entitled, "Hen Sitting," but this is another version.  I'm not so sure I'm completely content with this run at it; however, truth be told, I'm not so sure I'm completely content with any writing I do, poetry or otherwise.  I just know that each piece casts my words into the amber of the moment in time and I must let them go, imperfect or not.


In honor of Mother's Day I humbly offer up, "Hen Sitting" which I wrote when waiting for one of my children to receive the results of her audition.

Hen Sitting

I wait

The Mother Hen

listening for the return  

of one from her brood

I feel

her pain

every promise of news

quickening my heart

I measure

time’s passage

through aching arms

longing to bring comfort

I know

her desire

the wanting of it so badly

the memory a brand 

I remember

when it was my turn

the memories surfacing

melding past into present

I am

The Mother Hen

ever waiting

with boundless loving care. 

RE: MS WRITE-NOW Gets on Her Poet With "Sprinkled"

Sprinkler Art

A confection of a poem, Sprinkled is one of my more playful offerings excerpted from a collection of my poems entitled, Quiet Boundaries.   

Sprinkled

Joyous sprinkler

Whirling like a dervish

Over a grass floor

Nestled under wings of water

Tusks of green tendrils

Meet the droplets

Where the sky’s path

Draws ever closer

Playfulness paints

On a hurly-burly horizon

Fulfilling its purpose

At a horizontal slant

So ordinary an implement

Sparking wondrous contemplation

Of its patterned path

Across nature’s montage