Hometown Building

The library, church, elementary and junior high school were buildings significant to my childhood.  Their appearances would suggest that they were built around the same era with bricks from the same brickyard perhaps by the same bricklayers.  I never knew their history only their halls and rooms.

A tornado destroyed the schools.  The old library has been purchased for an upscale living space.  The church still has service once a week by a visiting pastor who says God is good.  The organist plays but there is no choir.  High on the steeple, bells still ring out the time and a tune.

oh what memories

built from debris of the past

rip through the springtime

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dVerse prompt to write a haibun on your hometown

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Hometown Building

Breath of Life

With each new day You breathe into me
In my deepest sleep You breathe into me

Lack of You all my cells diminish
Joyful celebration You breathe into me

I will no longer take Your breath ungracious
These breaths are not my own You breathe into me

Become aware of this divine connection
My body is Your Temple You breathe into me

Fill this temple with Your presence
Alpha to omega You breathe into me

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a ghazal promoted by dVerse on breathe promoted by Grace Black

Breath of Life

Ode to Foxglove

  

perpetually grows in the garden

it seeds itself

strong splendid stems

support the deadman’s bells

it is beautiful but deadly

all parts are toxic

known since ancient times

it can be medicine or poison

purples whites and blues

form bells that tower over

only the right portion heals

remember too much kills

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dVerse prompt on poisonous plants

Ode to Foxglove

Penmanship

Penmanship was always my favorite class.  There was a fountain pen and a bottle of Skrip ink, usually black.  The ink bottle had a little curved shelf on its inside where the ink could gather.  Put the nib of the fountain pen in and suck the ink with a lever on the side of the pen.  All this while sitting at a wood desk placed in rows by Mrs. Manocchio, my fifth grade teacher.

 

Trying to keep the ink between the lines of the paper, I made continuous circles round and round practicing to hold the pen in comfort, to get use to the flow of the nib.  Prepare the hand to loop and turn and form letters, then words, a complete sentence and the ultimate paragraph.  I was learning cursive writing with just the right slant and height of the i, dotted in just the right place between the lines, forming the perfect penmanship.

 

recall school days

labored for words on paper

ink dot on the snow
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dVerse prompt on handwriting which is becoming a lost art

 

 

 

Penmanship