Mainely Write

I didn't have extra time today, but I still wrote a poem to go with a quirky watercolor I did a couple of days ago. Sometimes having no time to write is the best time. Spider and Scarecrow   There was an old scarecrow all lady-like staid who had a friend spider all hairy and grayed They both spun at midnight though not the same way the spider spun silk while  the scarecrow girl swayed The moonlight fed both in the field every night except on the new moon when dark wasn't light but still they enjoyed  the evenings well spun  as each of them shared their own kinds of fun The spider learned waltzing despite four left feet and scarecrow learned weaving of shawls and silk sheets While autumn kept creeping but neither one saw And then one day - whoosh! wind made piles of them all! Ho-hum, autumn's done Time for snowflake fiestas and the season of scarecrow and spider siestas! by Donna JT Smith, 10-16-2020

Sometime this week, Molly Hogan posted a picture on Facebook of her carrots .  Go there to see her great image of homegrown carrots. I wrote a Haiku for the carrots in the Comments... Roots try to stretch but Ridged rocks with stony laughs Inhibit their reach.   by Donna JT Smith ...but one carrot had a split root, and Molly commented back about its "dancing pants"... And so I could not leave that alone!  It was eating at me until I wrote this poem.  It wasn't what I'd kind of envisioned.  I was thinking a kind of Gingerbread Man scenario.  But you can't stop a Carrot Top. Thanks for the inspiration Molly! Carrot's Top The day was cold, the day was spring and I had not a better thing to do today but plant a ring    A ring of things    I call some carrots. The soil was moist The loam was brown and there I pictured carrot crowns and so I threw Some seeds around    To fill the needs    of me and rabbits. Tiny green leaves An emerald sprout came up in days In spi

I'm finding balance these days in Squiggles and Poems. The uncertainty of a blindly drawn line, the discernment of a picture, the writing of a story in poem form... all somehow give me balance as I start my day. Sometimes I start it and am not be able to continue until later in the day.  Not liking those so much, but still it is something to look forward to every day. I know many of you have seen these posted on FB, but some have not. Here are a couple to give you an idea of what I'm doing.  I took a break in June.  Life got very busy and uncertain - more uncertain than it already was - as I prepared to travel to Maine to help care for my dying sister.  I did not know how long I would be here in Maine.  She died three days after my arrival, and COVID19 made it an interesting funeral with close friends and family gathering at the grave site or checking in on ZOOM. A month before her death, before I knew she was in her last days, I wrote this.  Although it is not really a sq

It's Poetry Friday.   I've not been here in a while - posts have been sporadic, visits to other blogs have been scanty.   I apologize for being neglectful.   It's been, as with everyone, a different time, different in so many ways for so long, that I've come to expect the unexpected at every turn.  But there are breaks in the difficulties that make you remember you know how to smile and how to laugh, and when to dance. Lol, dancing has been a long time coming!  But I kicked (albeit gently) a soccer ball with my grandson. I've posted mostly on FB lately, not a venue I had been using much.  But I've done a Squiggle and a Poem every day up until this week when I missed a day.  Playing catch up. I hope everyone is well and safe!   I am fine and recovering and mostly feeling positive.   Sometimes though, a myriad of things attempt to weigh me down.  I'm still getting up. Clouded ever clouded the way is not clear and I fear that I hu

For much of the month of April I have been doing a Squiggle and a Poem... The process involves very little time.  I simply get my iPhone, go to Notes, get the Markup open and make sure I'm on black marker.  Then I close my eyes and make a squiggle on the screen.  I give myself about a minute to make some sort of sense to the squiggle and then begin using other colors to fill in the image I came up with.  When it is done, a poem emerges and I write that, often on my iPhone in the notes, sometimes on the computer or paper.  The poem is usually in one quick burst, though somedays I have to get up and get more coffee!  Or, as with this one, I got interrupted by who knows what, and it never got finished.  I finished it mostly last night, with just the last few lines of the poem eluding me until this morning. Slick Kicks I got new slippers, they’re the best, Not beat up, torn up like the rest! They keep my tootsies fireplace toasty, Wrap my toes all cozy, roasty. Don’t know

Having started this poem on April 1 with a two line dilemma and deciding to free myself up of the choice, Irene, our second poet and originator of the Progressive Poem back in 2012, got to select the first line. Then she offered her two lines to the next poet.  And on and on it's gone.  The poem has come a long way, and has a nice flow.  It meanders with sights, sounds, smells, animals and now people... Each poet has offered two of their lines for the next poet, so it's a Progressive Poem with a choose-your-own-adventure flavor. It is Jessica Bigi's turn to select a line offered by Robyn Hood Black.  Here are the two enticing lines choices: OPTION 1: I free up my banjo, quicken my pace OPTION 2: I offer a wave but keep to my plan Drum roll.... Jessica picked Option 1, so the poem reads so far... Sweet violets shimmy, daffodils sway along the wiregrass path to the lake. I carry a rucksack of tasty cakes and a banjo passed down from my gram. I follo