Bloom in sunshine delirious
from deep the ground mysterious
puts on a show for all of us
don’t make a fuss don’t make a fuss
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Before too long it will wither
turn dry and brown when we shiver
time to give thanks to the giver
oh come hither oh come hither
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dVerse prompt to write a monotetra— eight syllables each rhyming line except for the fourth line which is a four count repeat. Of course I had to write about the garden.
Now it is only a trickle of a stream
where boulder rocks and pebbles accumulate
no hint of water on their smoothness
a dry bed until the hard rains come
gathering a force that pushes land
creates a new course through the city streets
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dVerse prompt on writing a quadrille using the word stream. Also recalling the flooding at Zion National Park and the water flowing through the streets.
Standing on Navajo Bridge
I see two condors
on the cliff face they look small
great wings tucked and resting
Colorado River moves below
takes rafters through the Grand Canyon
hoping to see a condor
maybe a peregrine falcon
Our guide tells of the time
high on the rock ledge
temperatures so hot
fledglings died in their nest
Still I want to see a condor take flight
I want to watch it soar
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Nesting condors have been observed at Zion National Park and I am hoping that global warming doesn’t push them out of their nests too early. https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-9814501/amp/Two-critically-endangered-California-condors-spotted-near-Zion-National-Park.html
Licking the batter bowl
mother didn’t know that it could kill us
sweet sugar egg flour
on our tongues
now verboten
she didn’t know those little pet turtles
(the ones in their plastic island paradise)
with salmonella all over their tiny prickly feet
could kill us
now verboten
mother didn’t know that our cotton pajamas
could kill us
when we fell into the fire
now verboten
———————-
Dutch word verboten has such a nice sound to it. Verboten is German, verbose Afrikaans
The oyster knife fit perfectly in her hand, its old wooden handle smooth and darkened with a century of use; how it pried open the barnacled shell (shell after shell) until there was a pile resting at her feet and the soft flesh of the oysters filled a bowl, their delicate lace edges curling outward away from the green sack of their being. She slipped one into her mouth— oysters on the half shell always her favorite. Always a top shell and a bottom shell. Never a pearl. Someday, she said to herself— someday she will find a pearl, but until then she promised herself, she would keep on eating oysters.
When the blade goes dull, I will think of Zora Neale Hurston who wrote
“No, I do not weep at the world — I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.”
Sharpen your knife.
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dVerse prompt to write prosey using the words of Zora Neale Hurston from 1928 in World Tomorrow —How It Feels to be Colored Me.
Also using Ursula K. Le Guin’s Steering the Craft Exercise 3, using long and short sentences.
Real old oyster knife pictured found at a thrift shop San Juan Island.
My bread is rising
long loaves placed on a pan
now side by side
twice the size
and still growing
a hot oven is waiting
for the right time
to bake it crisp
yet soft and chewy
serve it warm
with Greek olive oil
More foliage than flower
patches of sunlight
yet mostly shade
canopied by cedars and firs
rhodies iris fern
sun filled veggie garden
coaxing the plants
to become
dinner
dVerse prompt on garden—
At Melrose Plantation
African House still stands
(restoration completed)
& murals by Clementine Hunter
(also restored)
show the juke joint
down the road
on Saturday night
maybe a knife fight
dance and swing
til shots ring
will silence the song
all the people gone
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dVerse prompt to write a quadrille using the word juke. Louisiana artist Clementine Hunter painted a juke joint as part of her murals on the walls of African House.
wordshophop 