Poem of the Week: My Poem Placed!

Lois Batchelor Howard
Palm Springs Branch

 

A friend said

I must be jumping out of my skin

That’s quite a picture

I see my outsides crumpled

to the floor

…my insides…

a newer younger ‘looks of me’…

jumping and dancing about the room

then about the town

Some time later

when I calmed down a bit

I jumped back into my waiting skin

my excitement and I now ‘one’

waltzing together

in the bright sunlight

shining through the open door

 

Poem of the Week: Comedy

by Susan Bassler
Pickford Member-at-large

Comedy:

Middle English, from Medieval Latin comoedia, from Latin, drama with a happy ending,

 from Greek kōmōidia, from kōmos revel + aeidein to sing    1300s

 

Fifty years ago Carol Burnett

Starred in her comedic variety show

Timeless as vaudeville

Slip on a banana peel

Everyone laughs

But not today

Democrats would point to recycling

Or the cutbacks in garbage men’s pay

Republicans would point to failed farm programs

Or the lapse of the work ethic

Independents would point to ineffective littering rules

The ha-ha’s  would halt in mid-air

The oxygen needed for a hearty guffaw

Sucked out of the prat fall

Political correctness has made fools of us

Comedy If not impossible, becomes anemic

Society has slipped on a banana peel

And we don’t get the joke

 

Poem of the Week: Upon Falling from Its Nest

 

by Barb Whitmarsh
Bayou City 2, TX Branch

 

Had it sung but one brief song

Known one moment of Spring

Taken one brief flight

Piped in one dawn

Or one night

Had it made one boastful call

To an unknown mate

Its brief life

Would have been

An enviable fate

 

Poem of the week: From Generation to Generation

by Jill Maura Rabin, M.D.
Long Island, New York Branch

 

From Generation to Generation: ‘L’Dor v’ Dor’
(‘Give me the keys, please’)

 

From generation to generation,
L’Dor v’Dor – a song, a wish, a prayer
pouring from my lips each Sabbath,
Responsibility light years from today.

 

L’Dor v’Dor – a weight, my eyes strain
and discern elders’ traces, admonitions,
‘Do not forget’, soundless warnings,
Knowledge shared in haste over time.

 

L’Dor v’Dor – twilight fills a father’s senses, dawn just yesterday,

Struggle and accomplishment, a life defined by service,

Care, control and days slip through gnarled fingers,

‘Give me the keys, please.’

 

L’Dor v’Dor – How to find you in the darkness?’

I am dizzy from earth’s ever faster spin,

Time, invisible, yet palpable, moves me up life’s ladder,

The next ones’ breath is on my neck asking for more.

 

L’Dor v’Dor – precious, ancient words, fiery letters blaze,

Past and future coalesce, generations of truth shared

in an instant, all is given, lost and gained, my son

is next – ‘give me the keys, please.’

 

L’Dor v’Dor – a song, a wish, a prayer

poured from my lips, each Sabbath,

Responsibility fulfilled, we rise together,

from generation to generation, L’Dor v’Dor.

 

Poem of the Week: Spirit Song

by Brenda Layman
Central Ohio Branch

 

Nature does not sigh for loss

In littered leaves and soil

She keeps her own ones

Birthed in Spring’s warm blood

Fed on Summer’s bounty

Curled in fur, huddled in holes

Each day light lengthens, shadows bend

And rush before the wind

That breathes tomorrow’s promise

Underneath her quilt of gray and brown

Blanketed with snow

Seeds are sleeping

Soon to wake, as their parents once awoke

Softly green unfurl

Into her world of sun and rain

And everlasting life

 

Poem of the Week: The Shawangunk Mountains And Mohonk Preserve

By Cornelia DeDona, Member at Large
Kingston, New York

 

The Shawangunk Mountains And Mohonk Preserve

are my church

a photographer’s dream

an obsession.

 

I return

to scramble

Giant’s Path

Rock Rift

Bonticue Crag.

 

I return

to capture black snakes slithering

through the foothills

to meditate on the serenity at Duck Pond,

snacking on wild blueberries.

 

I rejoice in making a photo

of two Turkey Vultures perched on a ledge

then follow them with my telephoto lens

as they take flight

and then circle back to

inspect their new home.

 

I witness

fellow hikers’ reflections

in pools

beneath waterfalls

the cool mist

sweaty rock panorama.

 

I return with raw

close-ups of Spring’s

trillium erectum

wild ginger, and bloodroot;

all stalwart parishioners.

 

I return

to pan

Summer’s rhododendron bridge,

and zoom into a cloud

of pink and white mountain laurel.

 

I return

to shoot Autumn’s

red oak and mountain ash,

to snap the sugar maple’s

red, orange, and yellow leaves,

ablaze in my continuous shutter release.

 

I return

to marvel at the hypnotic revelation

that is the Gunks.

 

I return

in Winter

to photograph the glacial majesty,

the mirror images in footprints left behind

to find the divine in a frosty pine.

 

I return

to capture

the golden light

the blue hour and the twilights

in slow water and ice.

 

My focus

devout

day in and day out.

 

I return.

I return.

I return.

 

http://www.corneliadedona.com

http://cornelia-dedona.pixels.com/

 

Poem of the Week: The Facts of Aging

by Mimi Gould
Atlanta, Georgia Branch

So much to do before I pass
and here I sit upon my ass,
my energy is gone there’s none to spare
I lay on the bed, still in my underwear.

 

I wasn’t warned about getting old
I tried to do what I was told
but none advised me about fatigue,
and laziness and the lack of speed.

 

I munch on ice cream and candy bars
and wonder how my waist got large.
I truly want an exercise routine
but end up with People magazine.

 

It’s disgusting to me, this aging event,
I can’t even remember how my days are spent.
The golden years are simply phony
with time to spare, it’s pure baloney!

 

I’ll wake up tomorrow and hear myself say,
hooray, I’m vertical for another day.
And suddenly the day goes by,
hours seem like seconds, the time just flies.

 

The months and years are gone like a breeze.
I need more days, dear GOD, if you please.
A new year is here, I must take control
of mind and body and this lazy soul.

 

I’ll rid the cupboards of cookies and sweets
and try my darndest to get off my seat.
The stationery bike awaits my butt,
and perhaps a dance class to strut my stuff.

 

I’ve letters to write and a canvas to paint on
and a memoir to write before I’m gone.
I used to run just like a bunny,
batteries charged, yes, that was me.

 

Now I’m down to a turtle pace,
the only speed are wrinkles on my face.
Dear GOD, please hear my prayer,
bless me with vigor and enough to share.

 

Poem of the Week: Winters

by Virginia Nygard
NLAPW Vero Beach Branch

 

Across the barren, snow-steeped ridge

skeleton trees appear dry and bare,

yet seem to wake as I near the bridge,

and my heart skips with childish fear.

 

They point my way and begin to wail

as one, in chill and windy voice,

You, too, will pass like this one day.          

You have no other choice.

 

 

Poem of the Week: Poetic Mystery

by Natica Angilly
Diablo/Alameda Branch, CA

   

Spirit dreams

the dance of the poem.

Consciousness flows.

Moving atoms take the space.

Poetry dances.

Mysteries unfold.

 

Poem of the Week: Earthsong

Dawn Huntley Spitz
Cape Cod Branch

 

A Sonnet

We love you, our Mother Earth, who gave us birth

We bless the land so fair you gladly share

We thank you for all you give that we may live

Your majesty we praise through all our days.

And yet we in our greed take much more than we need,

Plundering without remorse our very source,

Destroying by degrees our wildlife and our trees

We waste without concern, we slash and burn.

O creatures of the earth, you respect its worth,

This precious home on which you live and roam

Before mankind arrived, you flourished and you thrived.

But humans lack the key to harmony

And if we do not learn, before the point of no return,

To make amends… our story ends.