Sunday, February 26, 2012

Poetry Picnic at Olive Garden

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Take a piece of paper,
Empty like the lazy afternoon,
Fill in lyrics,
Under the watchful moon.
Add some Haiku,
Short and sweet,
List them together,
And let it sit.
For a surprise,
compose an imperfect prose,
When the number of guests rise,
Shape your poetry like a red rose.

We are open for theme fitting poems,
or random poems, please share 
and enjoy a lovely FEAST on poetry!            

Counting Songs (Inspired by A similar tune for Children)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 
I saw a deer running for life,
6, 7, 8, 9, 10,
I bet he will find his den,
Why do you believe so?
Because this is what I know,
What does the hobby of the deer feel alike?
Not sure, maybe mountain hike.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
I saw two fish learn to dive,
6, 7, 8, 9, 10,
Both of them are eager to learn,
Why do you believe so?
Because this is what they show,
Which fish do you like better?
To me, it does not matter,

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
I caught a dolphin still alive,
6, 7, 8, 9, 10,
I let it go loose again,
Why did you let him go?
Because he deserves his freedom so,
What does he look alike?
He looks like himself, I like.

Rubiks-cube rotating,
Higher intelligent learning.

Koolest Kitty,
both patterns and motions are pretty.

green snowflake animation,
perfect shape and sensation.

Gold rush variety,
magical changes in society.

Twinkling stars with colors changing,
what fun, I am smiling.

Christmas tree lights,
reminding those sparkling and remarkable family nights.

Trippy Floral,
Dynamic and Magical.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

A Sapid Wind Kisses My Cheeks

It has rained all night,
The driveway glistens,
The grass is ankle-deep and wet,
Green birch trees have grown a few new leaves overnight.
I stand in front of the woods,
Lifting my face into cozy sunlight,
A sapid wind kisses my cheeks.
Glad to see the darkness of winter gone,
The mountains, jade green, fill the distance
with their mighty, bold stretch.
A wedge of birds sings in rhythms,
Freshness overtakes my body,
I’m going to enjoy this time of the year,
With joy written in my footsteps.


Friday, February 3, 2012

Funny Bunny Friday Week 7 (Join US Now)

The Sun blinks its eyes,
Gamblers roll their dice,
No more tears from the sky,
Rainbow feels shy,
The air is fresh and sweetly nice.


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Thursday, February 2, 2012

The Story Tree (Trees, Stories, Inspirations, and Life)

A writer’s life is a life of exile under trees.

When a writer plots a story, she is seeking shade, as a story develops, we see a tree branch out, right under winter’s coldness…

A tree takes the Sun in through its barks; it feels good to see leaves pick axing their way out, this happens in spring time.

Summer time is when a story is in its fullest swing, as a tree stands tall and feels fully packed with leaves and out stretched branch arms, everyone enjoys going under a tree in a sunny summer day, mostly in bare feet, or watch kids swimming in a pool nearby, while sitting on a beach, wearing only shorts and T-shirts, or swimsuits, and the story continues, reaching its peak then.

A story begins to wrap up as autumn arrives, tree leaves turn red, orange, or brown, leaf raking gathers meanings now, by concluding a story.

When winter says it is time to stop growing, it means tree barks look like cold, dark flames, a story complete. It’s time to stay indoor, cuddle close to the fire in your living room, let a beautiful story warm your heart or move you to tears.

A tree’s life is a story’s life, tree planting is story telling…

Think about it, write your story masterfully, the way trees grow and shine perfectly.

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