Showing posts from June, 2014

A Grasshopper Alone

This week at Poetry Jam, the prompt is to write about being alone or lonely...
You know very well, oh
I'm not one to dwell, so
I wrote something mellow
about this young fellow.

A Grasshopper Alone

A grasshopper cannot find
true friends
For he’s at the mercy
of where his jump ends
Just when he thinks he’s
spotted a stop
He finds that he’s taken
too huge a hop
Over that spot and just
out of reach
He calls out “hello” to every
and each
Grasshopper as he soars
And lands wherever his
jumping has led
No friends come to visit
for their plight’s the same
Jumping and hopping
is their lonely game.
It cannot be done
with a partner in tow
Their jumps seldom land
where another one goes
The chances of two of them
landing together
Is as rare as snow in
summer’s warm weather But if ever two should
land in one spot
I’m sure they’d remember
the manners they’re taught
        “Hello, how are you?”
          “I’m fine.”          “Glad we met.”
          “Good-bye”          and “Good day!”

Tuesday Amuse-me Day

It's Slice of Life Tuesday, so visit Two Writing Teachers and see what kind of week or day people have had by sampling their "slices"!
Last week I went for a drive with a friend to look at some potential "fun spots" for a soon to be 3 year old boy to visit while he is here.  On the meandering trip back from those places, we came across this scene.
You have heard the saying "A boat is a hole in the water into which you pour money”, and then there is "A yacht is a hole in the water lined with wood, into which you pour money".
But this lobster boat?  It looks like a boat trying to plug the hole in the water, or a boat actually being sucked down the hole in the water.  Soon there will be nowhere to toss the money in.
You can tell boats don't really have hearts, nor feel true compassion.  There were other boats nearby.  They weren't even facing this boat.  They never looked at it, nor did they try to help.  Could it be that they wanted to, bu…

The Passing of Ages

Poetry Friday is being hosted by Jone over at Check It Out.  There are lots of great pieces of poetry to be had there and by following the links!

I don't know what mood I was in when I first wrote this.  Yes, I do.  But that's not important.  I just remember this feeling happening after the second grandchild was about to be born.  It is a strange feeling of wanting to know more, and coming to grips with the idea that this is all I can know and pass on.  Did I do it?  I don't know.  Most likely no, not yet, as I still have unanswered questions myself and realize that for some of these questions I was given an answer once when I was too young to know I would want to remember it someday.

The Passing of Ages

I remember watching my grandparents
enjoying time
with their brothers
and sisters
laughing over
old stories of past deeds,
giving advice from a life lived
I remember as they eased away in life
and then faded in memory
my parents and aunts and uncles
became the keepers of

The Bridge ~ A Puente

On Poetry Jam today the challenge is to write about the word "bridge".  One of the forms of poetry featured there today is the Puente - meaning Bridge in Spanish.
I decided to go the common route for bridge, even using "bridge" as my bridge in a Puente.  No deep meaning here.  Just a bridge - from over and under... you know the story...

Tip tap,
     trip trap!
My tiny hooves rap!
I'll eat as soon as I'm over

~ the bridge ~

so fine,
      all mine!
Perhaps I will dine
before you get to the clover!

©Donna JT Smith, 2014

The Owls Were Out

In a pouring rain, the owl sat in a tree next to our house; another owl was farther away.  They were talking to each other for about an hour out there.  At midnight they quit for the night, I think... They may have started up their conversation again after I fell asleep.
I really don't think I'd want to be a little critter outside at night, hearing those big voices above.  Not being a little critter by any means, I bravely fetched my phone and recorded those awesome sounds.  If you turn the volume up enough to really disturb your cat or dog, you may be able to hear the faint sound of the more distant owl answering the first's call.

Oh, great horned fowl,

I heard you howl,

Great baritone of flight.

Tucked in a tree

You haunted me;

Unseen, I felt your stare.

Your questions hung

In realms unsung

Until beyond my sight

Another heard -

Echoed the word
A harmonizing pair.

Oh, stealthy owl,

How well you prowl

Tiptoeing through the night.

No time to hide

With silent…

Poetry Friday

Poetry Friday is being hosted today by Catherine Johnson! Go there to find links to good poetry stuff!
My offerings are from yesterday and last week:
Lost and Found: Without You
Rain, Rain, Go Away  (raining like crazy again today....guess I'd better start singing again!)

Poetry Jam Prompt - Lost and Found

The prompt at Poetry Jam is to "write a poem about an object or a person that has disappeared from your life or entered it and is now uniquely special to you". After messing about and throwing away stuff, this occurred to me and came to be.   It makes me teary to read it.  I hope it doesn't ruin your day.  I need to go do laundry or vacuum or something else now.  I'm not reading it again.  Ever. 

To cheer yourself up later, you can revisit some of my other "Lost" poems here, that I've written when I've Found other people's Lost gloves:
Pink Glove Wave
Lost Glove #2 And a "Lost Glove" writing here: First Glove of the Season

Without You

If there should ever come a day
when I look across the table
and you are not there -
when meals are unappreciated
and shirts no longer need ironing
when the pillow is still fluffed
and I open my own doors
when your hand's not there to hold
and open jars for me
when I feel the breeze kiss my neck
but n…

Rain, Rain, go away...

It's been raining a lot today (Thursday) and off and on for a when I sat down to write, it wasn't as difficult to do today as it has been.
Thank you, Rain!

ceaseless Rain
listen while
I sing
sing a song
of sun
and clouds
moving on
as I watch
puddles rising
from the ground
little lakes
revealing recessed
spots in the earth
here’s one
here’s one
and another...
even on a hilltop
cheer up
you’ve had your cry
dry, dry, dry your eyes
listen Rain
as I sing a refrain
of what goes on in
and the plain,
and how you can come back
another day
listen as I sing
singing in the rain
go away
and I promise
to do a special dance
just for you
a rain dance
to welcome you
I’ve put my
dancing shoes
right here
by the door
it was nice of
you to visit
but now
here comes the Sun...

*And it worked!  Today (Friday) is gorgeous!  The sun is shining on those bright green very clean leaves!

The Moon

"So what does the Moon mean to you?" is the challenge at Poetry Jam this week.   After thinking about it for a bit, I wrote and wrote and wrote and slashed and crumpled (figuratively) and deleted and spaced forward and edited and revised and napped and watched a little TV, until I was left with what is here.  It is a Haiku - Accrostic... a Haccrostu? At any rate, it is four lines so MOON can be spelled out.  First line is 5 syllables, the Second and Third lines combine to make 7 syllables, and the Fourth line is 5 syllables. (ok, there is a second poem at the end of the post...just happened...)                                            Master of disguise
                                           Orbiting pearlescent
                                           Nightly reflecting ©Donna JT Smith, 2014
I have always been fascinated that the moon is smaller than the sun by a lot, and it is closer by a lot - but given those two factors …