My Poem Swappers

I so want to apologize to my Poetry Swap buddies.  I should have just taken this year off.  Every post from May 1 on has been a journey outside of the daily stuff.  And most times I just can't get past the daily stuff.  Even this moment I am eyeing the clock...gotta be somewhere in a few minutes so I don't want to get so involved that I get lost in time.
After the purchase of the home in PA, we had to return in spring to prepare the home in ME for sale.  Now that is sold, I am back in PA and my husband is in ME helping renovate my son's home.
A variety of extraneous issues that I don't want to go into have drawn attention from one thing to another in rapid succession.  I can't discuss all of it, but just know, it has been mind-boggling and randomly concerning.  If it isn't one thing, it's another.  However, there have been enough good things to keep smiling in between...just not enough TIME smiling to relax.  I'm always waiting for the next shoe to drop lately.

That all being said, I want to assemble all the Poetry Swap items that I received over the summer and share them.  I couldn't do it for this week, but next Friday I will.  If you sent me a poem, would you email me for confirmation that I received it.  It has been so hectic with getting mail in one place, and being split for weeks at a time this summer between ME and PA, and moving stuff that got put on top of or stuck inside of things by me or someone else if I wasn't around.  So disorganized at times.  Slowly we are getting things straight, but I could easily miss something.  I already know I've misplaced one exchange from Tabatha.  I took a picture of the envelope...remember reading it...and can't for the life of me find it now.  I've been back and forth to Maine a couple of times, or three, since I got it.  And often my husband has been here instead of me for that time, so who knows where he put it!  Our apartment is still in disarray and I seem to be constantly misplacing things because there is either no place for it yet, or it is hiding behind things that have no place to be yet!

This is just too much of a ranting explanation of the whirlwind that has become my life.  So I apologize for that, too!  Lol!

Gotta go.  I have to watch a grandchild for a bit.  I wonder if I can write a poem while I am there.  Maybe I'll "find" one in the above. 

Let's see.  1, 2, 3, GO!

Poetry of Life

Will it rhyme or be discordant?
Weep, or laugh, or be informant?
Is there some time to tell a tale,
Or will it be too soon, too stale?
While others gifted summer songs
I have sorted write from wrongs.
Random whirlwinds shuffled life
Ties were cut with dullish knife
But as all gales are settled down
I'll watch and wonder for the sound
Of rhyming whispers in my ear
(I'm hoping by the close of year)
Yet if fresh words are not relayed
Life's poetry's just been delayed;
To me, there is no better thing
Than making pen and paper sing.
I hope to soon resume the game
that calls for me to sign my name.
And not just on house buying stuff
Of that I've had my fill - enough!
Back to the whimsy of a write
That overtakes without a fight.

by Donna JT Smith

Okay.  I had a few interruptions mid every step today, but I persevered!  Just a little fight grasping words to slap on paper...or screen, that is.

Enjoy more poetry from me sporadically.  I will try to get around to YOU.  That may be easier than ME getting to writing.

Today's Poetry Friday host is Kathryn Apel, with two great books reviewed and a very nice bit of news!

Trees and More

It's time to celebrate poetry.  Today's topic is trees if ya got one....and I remembered this one I have on my blog...so I'm reposting it.  Yesterday I just happened to take a picture of this tree in the schoolyard where my grandchildren were learning to ride their bikes. It is a spectacular oak - so huge!  What a great thing for a school playground.  Though it was hot and muggy, the tree's shade made it the perfect temperature and you could feel a breeze sitting beneath its sheltering boughs.

Poet Tree

 A
little
word
I wrote
one day
I really had
too much to say
I could not write it all
I was much too small but
then I learned about Haiku
so short and stout and then I
knew
that would do
so I wrote a little poem
that said more than it’s words
and from that grew a wish and need
to spread
my words like apple seeds and learn not
to rhyme all the time
one day my tree grew branches and I had more to say
so much more and so much
white space
so I
sneaked
in a
rhyme
just a peek
one wee
time
and
blossoms
came
and I
knew I had
to keep on
going
poetizing
and keep
on looking
at the world
through
realizing
eyes
rhyme
or no
rhyme

Donna JT Smith, 4-19-2013

I am still unpacking where we have moved - having moved more things (too many more) from Maine to Pennsylvania on my return trip.  Ginger's here, too, again.  I think she misses the big runs she could have with her friend, Spicy.  Our lot is small and public...so no more going out in a nightgown with messy hair (me not the dog), and she has to be on a leash...and I'm not running full tilt around the house five times with her.  Lots of changes.

Waiting

I think I'm hungry,

want to go out;

I'm waiting and waiting

with doggy-ish pout.

Why do you dress up?

Why brush your hair,

when you know that I need

to get out for fresh air?

City living's exciting,

small dogs call it grand;

But somedays I miss

running free on the land,

and standing stock still

as a coyote howls

or listening nights to

the hooting of owls.

The deer and the turkeys

dwelt in our hood

I barked at them all

as loud as I could.

I miss all the smells

of the geese in the flats

and the porch nesting phoebes

who tormented the cat.

In the city we have

rabbits, squirrels and skunks

all of them acting like

rodentia punks -

though we all know a skunk

is a Mephitidae

still a skunk is a punk

and I'm sorry to say

I got up too close to the

the tail end of one,

and man, that thing stunk 

like a son of a gun!

I promise to never 

sniff skunks again.

So if you would hurry

just tell me when -

for I'm ready to leave

 and sniff only ants,

on my way to the yard

to water the plants.

by Donna JT Smith, 8/16/2019

Enjoy more poetry today by following the links on Wondering and Wandering, by Christie Wyman, our Poetry Friday host today.

Climbing

Climbing

Once I was young

And free of most cares

Now that I’m older

I find that the stairs

Are higher and steeper

Than any I’ve known

But still I look back

On the garden I’ve sown

Everything’s good

Though perfection it’s not

Yet there is a story

Back there with a plot

It’s taken me here

To the next thrilling act

The cliffhanger page where

You’re missing some fact

So I lift my right foot

Then likewise my left

I drag myself up

Till I rest in the cleft

Yes the steps are much harder

The higher you climb

But the view from the top

Will be something sublime.

By Donna JT Smith 8/4/2019

My Children

Back 30 years ago, I drew these two portraits of my children from memory...not a copy of a photo.  I found them in our move.  Sometimes you just have to make some changes to find treasures you forgot you had.

Hannah, at age 5

Adam, at age 8

My grandchildren are these ages now.

Time,Treasures and Trains

When you thought you had it all
and you wanted time to stop
it didn't.
Thankfully it kept on going
to the next precious station.
Life, holding to
the track,
even when switching rails
treasures abounded
with more around
every corner
clutching your ticket
your journey
with twists, turns, jolts
and shifts
continued
to reveal treasures
Remember to
look, listen
and live
in each time,
for each treasure
on each train.

by Donna JT Smith, 8/2/2019

It may not be my best....it may be my fastest though!  I have to go get a van for moving more stuff this morning.  My train is barely slowing down today.
Hope I can get to read more posts tonight in a very empty house in Maine.
Here's how YOU can: visit Heidi Mordhorst at myjuicylittle universe for Poetry Friday!

Change

We are in the midst of some life-changing events lately.  And when you make big changes, you need to keep connections.  I kept coming back to connections in the middle of change....

Connectedness keeps you grounded.  When spaces change, people change and conditions change, you need to rely on the good connections you have established to keep you grounded yet moving forward.  That is my life now.  

I thank an unchanging God for the change to my life He brought, and for giving me all the connections we have established to draw on in daily life and in misty memories.  And that is all I can say. 

I started this poem yesterday when I was contemplating our move and its many complications, and the connections to the past it is evoking and enabling as we go through the changes.  It's all just a part of a whole picture unfinished, a leg of a journey you are still walking, a chapter yet to be read, a dot-to-dot to be colored in.

Change

Pieces and parts

Layered together

Haggard heart tugging

A silvery tether

Shimmery pearls slide 

    Memories glide

Between each gem

    Years cushioning them

Seeds of next time

Yet someday to bloom

Reside in the new

Dispelling of gloom

A placement in time

   A trace of divine

We stretch our toes

   Where our heart goes

Up then down

Side to side

A grand new maze

Where lives collide

Seeming the same

   Renewing the game

Hope swells content

   With all minutes spent

In brilliant puzzle

Corners are pieced

Outer edges aligned

The picture released 

Still filling the inner

   Choices grow thinner

Uncharted the smiles

   In upcoming miles

 

Sweet story the middle

Seen from the edges

With golden the morning

Green growing the hedges

All is quite well

   Wherein we now dwell

Always September

   Remaining remembered.

by Donna JT Smith 8/1/2019

It was good to be able to write again.  It's been sporadic lately.  This morning I am sitting on our stairs...no chairs in the kitchen or living room now.  I should have written here before...maybe with a pillow though.  This poem is giving me food for thought...I feel another poem in there somewhere.  Maybe after breakfast?

Connect with more fellow writers for Spiritual Journey First Thursday at Margaret Simon's Reflections on the Teche today.