Saturday Afternoon Thoughts

Saturday afternoon temperatures rise
into the triple digits
sending locals into cool homes
and tourist into casinos.

Saturday afternoon
and I give thanks
for the inspiration
Las Vegas provides.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Contemplating September

I contemplate September,
the birthday of writing.com
and I wonder
what other joys
that month will hold.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder  Awardicon Items, in my writing.,com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Summer Gratitude

I intone a prayer of gratitude
for the beautiful summer morning and afternoon,
for the gently breeze,
the bright sunshine,
the blue sky,
and deep shadows
on this wonderful summer day.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Poet's Intuition

Sometimes,
a poet has to follow her intuition
in writing an ode.

Is a poet's intuition
her muse?

I can't answer that question,
because there a times
when I call it my muse
and other times I call it
intuition.

I also placed this in the journal, Writing in Snow, located under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Another Summer Poem

A pleasant morning,
triple digit afternoon
another Las Vegas summer.

Turn on the cool air,
remain in door
until it after sunset.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, located in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

I Want To Give Up

I want to give up!
I want to stop fighting
the inevitable
and accept defeat.

It wouldn't be hard to give up,
to sit down on the battle field
and not fight any more.

Instead of giving up,
I'll open my prayer book,
turn to the Tablet of Ahmad,
and intone the prayer.

Instead of giving up,
I'll place my trust in Baha'u'llah,
and see what else I need to do
the change my situation.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the f older Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

My Complaint

I will not complain
except about the weather,
triple digit temperatures,
and weird noises in the middle of the night.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, located under the folder  Awardiccon Items, in my writing.com blog  Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

A Sleepless Night

It takes a sleepless night
to make you appreciate sleep.

A night
of tossing and turning,
of getting up and down,
and attempting
to make yourself comfortable.

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Say a Prayer for Unity

Say a prayer for unity
for the healing of humanity
from the superstitions
that separate the species
into them and us.

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Listening to Spiritual Music

Listen to the joy
of praising the Lord
in song and watch the video
and your attitude will change
from depression to praise.


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Las Vegas Morning

Beautiful Sunday
Wisp of white clouds in blue sky
No birds are singing

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Mental Health Day

Unplug
and get away from the stress.

Take a walk in the woods,
or in the park
with a picnic lunch
and your pen and paper journal.

Say a prayer,
write a poem,
read the sacred scriptures,
or meditate
on the beauty of nature.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Tired of Dealing With People

I am so tired of deal with people
that I want to cry.

All morning,
I've dealt with telephone and harassers,
who obviously
want to bring my blood pressure up.

I need a mental health day,
so I've decided
to turn my cell phone off on Friday,
and take the house phone off the receiver.

I'd take a mental health day
on Thursday,
but I have a doctor's appointment
and I need the phone that day.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Summer Poems

Summer poems
rise like the temperature
spreading across the city
of the poet's muse.

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T houghts on Writing Poems

Find the theme,
sometimes it's a dream,
write the first word--
an echo you heard.

One line at a time,
sometimes there are rhymes,
focus of simile or metaphor:
What is the subject
you are looking for?

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In a World Free of Fear

In a world free of fear
eys sleep without tears.

Humanity join hands,
as a single species,
in building bridges to unity.

The melodies of heaven
run through the human mind
when eyes kiss eyes
in a symphony of love.


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Humanity Is One!

Bound together
By the ancient Covenant of God
We are one race

From the beginning
That has no beginning
God has renewed it

With each generation
With each succeeding Manifestation
God's Covenant was renewed

God will continue
Renewing His Covenant to the end
That will have no end

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Summer in Las Vegas

Have I written this poem before?
Summer in Las Vegas
is triple digit temperatures,
sometimes with rain
and sometimes without it.

Sometimes I miss Oklahoma
with its tornadoes,
rolling thunder,
and crisp bolts of lightning.

Sometimes I prefer Nevada
with its dark storm clouds,
crisp lightning bolts,
rolling thunder,
and triple digit temperatures.

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Thoughts on Humanity

Humanity
is a single race,
with it roots in Africa.

We are the children
of migrations
that carried the species
out of Africa
and dispersed it
across Earth.


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Remembering the Moon Landing

I sat awestruck
watching the news!

At last,
humanity had landed on the moon,
my world became smaller that day
and the universe larger.

I still
get a lump in my throat
when I remember those events:
I thank God
for being born
in such an awe inspiring
and exciting time in history.

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The World Nees Poets

Poets are necessary
to the sanity of humanity,
without poets
the world would be colorless,
hope would not exists,
and we would not know
the passion of a rose.

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Crop Circles

Geometric circles
Plant stems bent not broken,
The mystery increases,
Chills flow up the spine of fear,
Hair stands on end,
Questions echo through the mind:
Elves dancing on the corn?
Aliens waltzing on the wheat?
Angels communicating God's love?

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Vapor Lock

The inspiration is there
dawn still comes in all its scarlet splendor
lovers meet, embrace, fight, kiss, and separate
traffic flows, road kill decomposes,
stars shine, planets condenses, suns novae,
birth, death, and resurrection occur.

The inspiration is there,
but the flow is blocked
obstructed by stress overheating,
by bubbles forming between
the fuel pump and the engine.

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Two Poems A Day

One hundred and seven days
to write one hundred and sixty four poems:
Is this possible?

Withe the help of Baha'u'llah
and the Bab,
I believe it is.

If I write two poems a day
it will take me eighty-two days,
that will give me twenty-five days
to review what I have written
to celebrate
the Bicentenary of the Birth of the Bab.

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The Catalyst

Two centuries have passed
since His birth in Shiraz,
and humanity moves toward unity.

His birth in 1819,
and His death in 1850
were the catalyst
to humanity's transformation.

This year we celebrate
the Bicentenary of the Birth of the Bab,
who--along with Baha'u'lllah--
has created a vision of unity
for humanity.


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Keeping the Electricity On

Summer is here
with triple digit temperatures
and outrageous power bills:
Where is the money
coming from
to keep the electricity on?

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My Grandfather's Word

My Grandfather
had a word for it,
for the bitching,
the complaining,
and the grumbling under your breath.

It was mulligrubbing,
it wasn't ladylike,
it wasn't gentleman-like,
it was worrying aloud
and being rude
to disturb others
with your gripping.

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Cats

In the morning
they are like rick black coffee
each sip a hot claw in your bare hands.

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Independence

Independence
is a spiritual virtue,
a divine attribute,
that humanity must use responsibly.

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Wake Up

I wake
before dawn pours
cream into the black coffee of night.

I rise
before mourning doves
lament the passing wind.

 

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Birds

A poem is a Great Horned Owl
mourning the departing night;
mourning the twinkling stars
fading in dawns nascent light.

A poem is a Nightingale
rejoicing in dawns first rays;
rejoicing as the rising sun
gives birth to a new day.

A poem is a Mourning Dove
lamenting the fleeting day;
lamenting life's swift passage
from birth to the grave.

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July: A Month of New Opportunities

A new
and glorious
month has begun,
with new opportunities
to express gratitude to the Almighty:

 

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Bagpipes

"The pipes, the pipes are playing..."
The music of my soul,
Chords that fall like raindrops
         from mountain crest and castle wall,
Wild notes from highland battles
         echoing both victory and defeat.

"The pipes, the pipes are calling..."
To my genetic roots;
Recalling ancestral memories
         from glen and moor and bog,
Memories of Gaelic gods and goddesses
         worshiped in Erin, in Scotland, in Man.

"The pipes, the pipes are marching..."
To a new song in this day,
To a song of unity, faith, and freedom,
A song that all humanity can sing.

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The Joy of Finding Baha'u'llah

The joy of finding Baha'u'llah
vibrates through my soul,
reverberates through my mind,
shattering doubt and fear,
and regenerating love and faith.


I also posted this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, located in the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Beacons

Stars twinkle,
glittering diamonds
in a black velvet sky.

Planet burn holes
in the ebony blanket of night.

planes fly
across the firmament,
their precious gem lights
beacons guiding the mind
to a conclusion.

Each item
has a specific attribute
identifying it to the observer.

Each is a beacon
to the poet's muse.

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Dream About Going Home

There was something different
about the room,
a fundamental change in the arrangement
of the furniture
and other objects.

Everything appeared
to be in its proper place,
but something
had shifted
or been moved.

It wasn't
on the conscious
or visual level,
but on the subliminal.

A millimeter change
in the placement of the furniture.

Or was I
the one who had changed
in the decades
since I last visited
my Grandmother's house.

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One Hundred Words

I reread the words I'd written,
I listened for the voice of fear,
and found it expressed in each line.

I heard the question
reverberating through my mind:
Can I write two hundred words?

Did I detect
the voice of terror echoing
between the line?

Were those tears I heard,
in the unwritten words?

One hundred words to motive.
One hundred questions asked.
Can one hundred questions be answered
in one hundred words?

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Valley of Fire: A Memory

Age after age the
desert wind whispers through red
stone canyons. While grain

upon grain desert
sand moves against sandstone cliffs.
Carving images in

the stone. Images to
which we attach names. The Bee
Hives, Elephant Rock,

et cetera. Names
and images which the coming
aeons will erase.


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Three Onenesses: Water Flows

God is one!

Composed
Of two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen
Water flows

Religion is one!

Water flows
Across the face of the planet
Two atoms of hydrogen and o ne atome of oxygen
Descends in torrents
From the clouds of mercy

Humanity is one!

Fresh or salt
Rain or standing
Water is composed
Of two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen

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Walking the Dog: A Memory

Energy leashed
tugs at the brown leather strap
pulls me forward.

Distracted
by the scent of another
on a blade of grass.

Specs
deposits her own scent
before moving on.

 

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Is It Writer's Block?

Sometimes,
I don't know what to write
because my muse has taken flight
across a foggy lake of
"I don't know what to write!"

Is this writer's block?
Is this the voice
of my inner critic
attempting to block
my creativity?


I've also posted this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Motivation

Inhale the fragrance
of motivation and accomplishment:
a busy day.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Write On @ Writing.Com!

Summer's Arrival

Summer arrived
eight days early
with triple digit temperatures
that cause power bills
to rise
toward the national debt.

Air conditioners hum,
their songs echoing
through the neighborhood,
while excessive heat warnings
are sent to smartphones.

I also posted this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, located in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Jonah in the Belly of the Whale

Averse
to obey God's command
darkness envelop

the being
swallowed by the leviathan
of self.

Stomach acids digest
self's outer layer,
leave,

the inner kernel
on its knees
begging for salvation.

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I Write of My Beloved

I write of my Beloved
Through whom my fingers bend
To pick up my pen!

I write of my salvation
Using ink drawn from my ow2n veins
To document my liberation!

I write of my pain
Caused by my ego's attempt to gain
My soul's allegiance!

I write of my fears
Caused by the disempowering years
In Self's prison!


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Writing Poetry

I am compelled to write!
The words come to me as lovers;
As lovers they tantalize and seduce,
Making me their willing slave,
Until I master the art of their seduction.


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Am I Asking The Right Question?

We ask questions all the time:
Who, what, when, where, where, why, and how.
The answers come in various forms,
though they are often not what we want
or expect.

Are the questions
we ask God and ourselves
meant to elicit the answers we want
or the answers we need.

I find myself asking, "What am I doing wrong?"

Doesn't this suggest that I expect
to take the incorrect action?
On the other hand,
if I rephrase the question
it becomes "What am I doing right?"
Now I'm preparing my eyes to see reality.
God put within me,
within everyone,
a s park of divine light.

Rephrasing a question refocuses it
on either the positive or the negative.
It lets us see both what needs fixing
and what is well done.
God loves the individual and humanity,
has a plan for each person
and for civilization:
There is always something the individual is doing right.


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At the Beach: In Honor of World Ocean Day

Like battalion marching to war,
Transporting victims of slaughter,
Waves are marching into the shore.

Pushing lathered whitecaps before,
swells transport debris and water,
Like battalions marching to war.

As birds echoing the breakers roar,
Scavenge the sea edge for fodder,
Waves are marching into the shore.

Suffers paddle away from the shore,
Advancing past the breakwater.
Like battalions marching to war.

Billows recite ancient sea lore,
As tourist ramp in the water,
Wave are marching into the shore.

Disgorging refuse on the shore,
The sea returns our waste water:
Like battalions marching to war,
Waves are marching into the shore.

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My Sanctuary: The Writings of Baha'u'llah

In the words of Baha'u'llah,
I find a fortress safe and strong
where the cares and strife of modern life
neither linger nor belong.

His words inspire my heart to find
the love that hate conceals,
His pen inscribes upon my spirit
the faith that tests reveal.

His verses are my sanctuary
bestowing peace on mind and soul,
His sacred scriptures God's book of laws
to which obedience is my goal.

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Judgment Day: A Description of Dawn

Prior to dawn
the darkness deepens,
as if gathering its strength
to fight the light.

Dawn comes
its rays of life
send darkness scurrying
and ting gray-white the morning sky.

Life's rays paint
the sky in shades of purple
streak the clouds
with pink and red.

The sun ascending
in silent glory
blinds the ravenous birds of night
and inspires the nightingale's song.

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Feast of Light

Life is renewed,
and creation reborn
for Christ ha returned
in the Father's Glory.

Stalactites of light
shine with crystal radiance,
while grandeur is reflected
from radiant stalagmites.

Stalagmites and stalactites
glitter in the darkness of matter
proclaiming the joyous news.

Silence transcends
for an abundance of reasons say:
That God's Promise is fulfilled.

Splendor's shadow hides
in the radiant reflection
of the Lord of Host
and the King of Glory.

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After Midnight

After midnight
the seconds become minutes suspended
on the event horizon of a black hole.

A black hole that pulls
and stretches the minutes
into hours longing for dawn.

After midnight
the mind falls
into a cogitative languor
waiting for the hours
to be pulled into days.

Days overflowing
with the agony of months
stretching into years.

After midnight
the eyes stare into years
elongating into decades.

Decades pulled
second by second into centuries
that are pulled minute by minute
into millennia that are stretched
hour by h our into aeons.


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Trust God

Place your trust in God
Move forward toward your goal
God is sufficient

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Saturday

A beautiful day
Bright sun, blue sky, and white clouds
Wind moves tree shadows

 

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Peace Plan

The Glory of God
Has a plan for humankind
That will put an end to war

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The Power of Words

Think before you speak
Your words hove the power to
Create or destroy

 

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God Doesn't See Differences

God doesn't see the differences
of color,
religion,
gender,
or nation.

God looks within
the individual human
and sees the divine attributes
that are reflected
in the mirror of the soul.


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Life in the Universe

Each star has planets
Each planet has its own life forms
The galaxy and the universe created for life

 

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Saturday Afternoon

Partly cloudy
patches of blue sky
peek through grayish-white clouds
that are pushed by the wind
toward the western mountains.


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Declaration of The Bab

It was the dawn
of a new day for humanity
when its unity
became firmly established.


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Morning Rain

Inhale the morning
the fresh scent of rain washing
the dust from the air.

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Nightingales' Gratitude

Nightingales
raise their songs in praise,
intoning
gratitude
to the All-Glorious Lord:
The Glory of God.

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The Soul's Goal

To know and love God
This is the goal of our souls
Seeking transcendence

 

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Meditation on the Existence of God

There is a timeless quality about life--
about living--
which extends beyond what I know,
and what I feel.

It extends into an unknown realm;
existing between illusion and reality,
between dreaming and waking,
between death and life.

There is more to life than anything I have experienced,
anything I have imagined.

It is not that I am missing something,
rather something exist which I cannot grasp,
and cannot comprehend.

This something I call God.

He exist,
though not in the same way as I,
He is beyond all I know,
all I see,
all I feel.

Without God there would be no Universe,
no Life.

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Feast of Grandeur

On the day of Baha,
in the month of 'Azamat,
united in purpose
and harmonized in thought
we celebrate...

O Lord,
Our diversity reveals
the grandeur of Thy Cause.

Men and women,
adults and youth,
raise their voices in praise
at the Supper of the Lord.


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Collage

Clouds haphazardly
Scattered across the blue sky
Condensation trials

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May Afternoon

Pleasant afternoon
A dog barks in the next block:
Is he chasing cats?

 

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Dawn in Las Vegas

Silence
Tranquility
Dawn breaks over Sunrise Mountain
Crowning its crest in glory

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Nightingale's Song

Listen for the Nightingale's song
echoing from Paradise
calling for love, peace, and unity.

 

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Reflections on the Day of Beauty

Sunshine and coffee
Another beautiful day
A new week begins

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spiritual Capabilities

Spiritual capabilities
allows humanity to discover
the mysteries of the surround universe.

We can chose the path we take,
and change our minds
when that path
is no longer working.

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Healer and Protector

God is the healer
Of all of our afflictions:
He is the generous, the All-Knowing.

God is the protector
He holds the universe:
He is the generous, the All-Merciful.

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The Twelfth Day of Ridvan

Raise your voices in praise,
the day of peace has come,
and the Prince of Peace arrived.

 

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, u nder the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

The Eleventh Day of Ridvan

As the King of Festivals
draws to an end
I contemplate the coming
Holy Days,
and the poems I will write.


I also posted this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

The Tenth Day of Ridvan

Beautiful Tuesday
Sunshine, partly cloudy sky,
Wind in the palm trees

 

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder  Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

The Ninth Day of Ridvan

It is the Ninth Day of Ridvan,
a day for family
and happiness.

I weep
for my Baha'i brothers
and sisters
who are facing execution
because of their acceptance
of Baha'u'llah.

I weep
and I pray
to the All-Glorious Lord
to soften the hearts
of those who hate
other human beings
because they profess a different faith.



I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

The Eight Day of Ridvan

Love is the secret
Without love there is no peace
No life in the universe

 

I also placed a copy of t his poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

The Sevenh Day of Ridvan

Take the Golden Rule to heart.
Obey it! As if it were a law of nature:
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Every human being is your neighbor,
Regardless of religion or national origin.
Arise! Let your actions express the Golden Rule.
Notice the similarities in phrasing of the rule across religions.
Consider the meaning: the common foundation of all religions,
Each one sent by the same Divine Creator.


I also posted a copy of this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Item, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

The Sixth Day of Ridvan

Inhale the perfume
of divine unity from
the roses of paradise.

 

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow,  located under  the folder  Awardicon Item, in my writing.com  portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

The Fifth Day of Ridvan

Enter the Garden of Paradise,
proclaim the Divine Springtime,
and the arrival of the Lord of Hosts.

 

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, located  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

The Fourth Day of Ridvan

When does faith begin?
The first step is detachment.

Where is faith found?
Trust in the Glory of God.

How is faith practiced?
Prayer and action removes all barriers.
Giving assistance to humanity.

I also placed a copy of this in the journal, Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

The Third Day of Ridvan

Raise your voices,
intone the Ridvan Tablet,
and celebrate the King of Festivals

 

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, iin my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

The Second Day of Ridvan

The wind intones
the joyful news proclaiming
the Glory of God.

In the Garden of Paradise,
Baha'u'llah proclaimed His mission
now we all give thanks.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

The First Day of Ridvan

The Festival of Paradise
has begun,
Nightingales of the All-Glorious,
raise your songs
in the rose garden
of the love of God.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com port. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Saturday Morning on Sunrise Avenue

Morning sparrows sing
Serenade cooing pigeons
Saturday drivers

neighborhood children
Shouts and laughter echoing
Play in the courtyard

 

I also posted this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder  Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

Thankful Thursday: A Prayer

Dear Lord,
I thank you for this day
and for revealing to me The Bab
and Baha'u'llah.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Evening Noises

Spring break
and shouts of happiness
echo through the neighborhood:
No school until next Monday.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, located under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Robins Sing

Listen to the Robins sing,
In the garden in the spring,
Listen to this beautiful sound,
As it echoes all around.


I also place a copy of this poem in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Motivational Monday: A Poem

I awake,
stretch,
open the prayer app
on my smartphone,
and intone a morning prayer.

The words,
"I have awakened in Thy shelter,"
reverberate through my mind
motivating me
to begin
a new poem,
that will proclaim
Baha'u'llah.

I also posted this poem in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardican Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Miracles

Miracles are everywhere
just open your eyes
and you will see them.

Miracles
are in the shadow
of a palm tree,
in the dance of plasma
circling a black hole,
or in the song of a nightingale.


I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, located in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Neighborhood Noises on Saturday

Song of a buzz saw
Reverberates through the neighborhood
Apartment remodeling

 

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

Beautiful Spring

Beautiful spring,
listen to the joyful sparrows sing
welcoming April wind and showers
proclaiming to all the their happiness.


I also posted this in the journal,  Writing in Snow, located in the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Windy Wednesday

It's a windy Wednesday
here in Las Vegas,
with palm fronds waving
and clouds dancing across the sky.

I also posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Life in the Universe

The universe blooms with life,
Each star has its planets
And each planet it life form
Plants and animals flourishing
In countless numbers.

I also posted this in the journal, Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Spring Cleaning

Every year,
when spring arrived
Grandma cleaned house.

She went about it methodically,
room by room
removing the dust of winter
(not that there was much dust to remove).

She opened the windows
to let in the fresh air
or, perhaps,
letting out the closed up feeling
that settles in a house in winter.



I also posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicorn Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

A Poem A Day

A poem a day
chases writers' block away,
and scatters the clouds of boredom.

 

I also posted this poem in the journal Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com  portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

Will I Be Able To Sleep Tonight

Last night
was a sleepless night.

As the sun sets,
I wonder
if I can sleep tonight.

If I can't sleep,
the next question is
"Do I read
or write poetry?"

I also posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awaridcon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

Prayer of Thanks

Oh, Lord,
I give you thanks
for guiding me through
the tests and difficulties of life.

 

I also posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

 

 

April Winds

March
is supposed to come in like a lion,
not April.

This year,
Mother Nature seems confused.

Today
the wind is harassing
the palm fronds,
and the clouds--
which are supposed to bring April showers--
float across a blue porcelain sky
without threatening rain.



I also posted this in the journal Writing in Snow,  under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com

After School

I listen to the laughing children
playing outside
on this beautiful
and cloudy spring day.

I smile
because it reminds
me of my childhood,
and the joy
of being out of school
for the day.

I also posted this in the journal Writing in Snow, under the folder Awardicon Items, in my writing.com portfolio. Visit My Portfolio @ Writing.Com