Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

                  It’s the Saturday of my winter dreams

It’s the Saturday of my winter dreams
	the day that begins with fog that moves to sunshine
	the day my husband can ride his bike outdoors
	the day yards are being cleaned
		when daffodils on the south side of the house
		are readying themselves to open at any moment

It’s the Saturday of my winter dreams
	when children shout outside
	when my husband doesn’t close the blinds
		(because he’s finished with his PlayStation game
		and the reflections don’t matter for a bit)
	when laundry seems a pleasure
		as well as a necessity
		and the sweet smell whispers, “Spring.”

It’s the Saturday of my winter dreams
	the day the breeze is warm
		and “wind chill” a two-word epithet
	the day the beds are aired 
		and sheets smell clean and new.

It’s the Saturday of my winter dreams
        when windows open to let in spring.


When we were little, we had the orange set of Childcraft, a division of World Book Encyclopedia.  Although I’ve gotten rid of many of the volumes (as they’re out of date in areas such as science), I still have the two that have classic children’s poems and stories.  Here’s one of my favorites that I also read to our girls from a beautiful board book.  Its rhythms are perfect for getting ready to sleep.  It makes me happy just to read it again.  And with that, I’m off to bed.

(more…)

The blackbird plants were in bloom this morning
          with a fine crop of birds.
Bodies inflated with air
         wings out
         they loosed their urgent songs
         in the morning air.

copyright janet m. webb

https://www.bird-sounds.net/red-winged-blackbird/

Noku #1

Posted: January 27, 2018 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , ,

My husband coined the term “Noku” for poems that sound and feel like haiku, but don’t actually follow the “rules.”

© janet m. webb

I’m just back from a lovely, warm visit to Arizona, which means dealing with a pile of mail, things that have to be done around the house (laundry, for instance), work, etc. I’ll be blog visiting again as soon as possible this weekend and I hope your weekend is a blessed one.

The colors of fall have finally arrived and are reaching their peak.  But we know that on the other side are scenes like this.  I’m good with that.  I love winter and I love snow.  Without snow, winter is perpetually grey, cold, and boring.  With snow, it’s Christmas every day.

Falling Snow
Amy Lowell

The snow whispers around me
And my wooden clogs
Leave holes behind me in the snow.
But no one will pass this way
Seeking my footsteps,
And when the temple bell rings again
They will be covered and gone.

© janet m. webb

Linking to Ailsa’s Travel Theme “Frozen.”

 

copyright janet m. webb

The first leaf fell today,
	lacking even grace of color,
to lie quiescent on the sidewalk
	‘til wind-blown travel claimed it.
Soon millions more will throw themselves
	to willing death,
flaming brightly before reduced to
	crackling beneath feet in futile protest.

Days grow shorter, nights stretch longer,
	nights where passion once flamed brightly,
now passing also into death,
	unwilling on my part,
	kamikaze-like on yours.

The fire that now burns
	devours all the love
	and leaves not even embers
	that soft breath could coax back to life.

Autumn's harbingers
Lie dying before my eyes
Love once green now dead

© janet m. webb