the plane is late
it has not arrived yet from Accra
people are waiting with patience
first 30 minutes
then an hour
we think the plane is cancelled
people begin to rumble
what if the plane doesn’t come
what will we do
the bus ride is long and it is night
we are tired and tired of waiting
the plane lands finally
and we are off to Accra
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dVerse prompt on waiting – a photo of Accra
When you return will you bring me a writing book?
the English was heavily accented
the face was young and inquiring
English I say
When you return will you bring me a writing book?
I heard the word clearer now and know of a request for book
any book I ask
a writing book
Are you a writer I am a writer
Then I remember that I have a small moleskin book in my bag
I bring out the book and present it to him
I hope he becomes a writer
I see him in the distance walking home with his book
We wave goodbye as I leave Lake Bosumtwi.
« Darkness came, full of moths and beetles. I was oppressed by the velvety emptiness of the word and swathes of soft grass. Then the fumes of the night put me to sleep. ». Laurie Lee
in the dark no words
moths and beetles take to air
I sleep night’s fragrance
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dVerse prompt to change Laurie Lee’s prose to poetry. Thanks for some great prose to work with. #4
« White elder blossom and dog roses hug in the hedges, blank as unwritten paper, and the hot empty road reflected Sunday’s waste and indifference. High sulky summer sucked me towards it. » Laurie Lee
dogwood blossoms near
line road to imperfection
I walk in that heat
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dVerse prompt to take prose writing of Laurie Lee and make it a poem.
Four choices and I want to do all four in haiku.
Press strings on fret
hold tight
strum or pluck
find a rhythm
Slide to another
hold tight
chord of C7
fingers aching
Dreams of Joni and Joan
sounds of voice and string
oh to be like them
Never too late
for a new song
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dVerse quadrille using the word fret
A haloed sun and an eagle flying over, just two signs she thought, as the parked car beeped with the opening of the lock. She didn’t get in but stood there looking at the sky, the signs she was sure were a prophetic vision of what God was doing in her life. I’m going for greater heights, bigger skies, with a sun more radiant she thought, as she slipped into the driver’s seat. There is nothing ordinary about me. I am extraordinary. I will do extraordinary things.
When far away an interrupted cry of the eagle. The car alarm sounded like a freight train crossing into her imaginations and realities. What the hell? She fumbles with the keys and finds the red alarm button. New silence. In the distance the sound of the eagle.
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dVerse prompt to write prosery and must use “when far away an interrupted cry”
A poem is a waterfall of words
cascading over rock
sometimes flowing
sometimes not
it pools
here
