Author Archives: Kat Myrman

this place

this place

i will never grow weary of this view
as the sun sparkles through the trees at dawn

as the sun sparkles through the trees bird song,
a cacophony of trills, tweets, and coos

a cacophony of trills, mournful coos
rouse me from my bed to start a new day

rouse me from my head it’s a new day
how fortunate am here in this place

how fortunate am i how blessed with grace
to live amidst such beauty all around

to live amidst such beauty i have found
a peace i never knew in the city

a peace i never knew, what a pity
it’s taken me so long to find my way

it’s taken me too long but i must say
i will never grow weary of this view


Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 - Day 27 Prompt: write a “duplex.” A “duplex” is a variation on the sonnet, developed by the poet Jericho Brown. Like a typical sonnet, a duplex has fourteen lines. It’s organized into seven, two-line stanzas. The second line of the first stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the second stanza, the second line of the second stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the third stanza, and so on. The last line of the poem is the same as the first.  

Well, I gave this interesting take on the sonnet a go. It was not an easy task. Not sure I’ll be back for another try, but I am always happy to explore this particular subject. After 2-1/2 years in our forever home, I still love it here. We decided not to add window coverings, allowing the green hue from the surrounding trees and natural light to stream in. Of course this also means no sleeping in. The window at the foot of my bed faces due east where the sun rises over Bramlett Mountain just behind my house. Its light through the trees sparkles like diamonds!

a tanka

an activist judge
decreed covid’s end
no need to wear masks
eat, drink, live your life, be free
while the plague mutates, raging


Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 – Day 26 Prompt: write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines.

Off topic…a tanka for today…just a commentary on the lunacy of our times. Science? Reason? Reality? I’m in no hurry to join the lemmings.

lady of the blue foothills

lady of the blue  m on

one summer’s eve she came to call
a moonlit vision peering in
rousing me from slumber’s cusp
amidst the wooded hollow’s din
with eyes of green, face white as snow
raven curls from her hooded cloak, cascading,
then whispered she, my name
it would rude of me i thought
to look away, to hide my head
instead i rubbed my eyes in case
it was a dream…”i’m not” she said
“what then, are you, or rather who?”
i might as well engage this sprite
it’s odd i don’t feel any fright
just curious why she happened by
before i could ask her she replied,
“i am the mounded loam beneath
your feet, my voice is sometimes
light, a breeze, or birdsong sweet
and other times it roars,
a tempest swift to rage,
my eyes from green turn steel gray
i smell of honeysuckles, roses too,
lilacs, lavender, and bells of blue
my thoughts are many as the stars
and every wish you’ve ever wished
i keep close, guarded in my heart.”
then just like that, the moon behind
clouds drifted, she was gone
leaving me to wonder if what i saw
was real or just my mind slipping
‘tween lucidity and dreaming, yet
i felt her cradle me, calmed by her breath,
or was it mine, finally i slept


Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 -Day 25 Pronpt: based on the Aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live.

old friend

Merlin at One Hundred Years
old friend

Merlin will be 100
in cat years in a few
short months
a mischievous
imp he is
with fading eyes
and random patches
of gray, a toothless
mouth that pouts
when he mews, but
he still wears
his tuxedo coat like
a regal gentleman
who dines on pâté
while demanding the
servitude of his
ever-devoted human

(that would be me)

of course i comply
to his every whim
i’m a sucker for
soft fur, and deep
rhythmic purrs
mesmerized by
the dark flecks
in his green eyes
deep as wells
and by the trust
implied by his gaze
having tested me
these twenty-one years

Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 - Day 24 Prompt: write a poem in which you describe something with a hard-boiled simile. Feel free to use just one, or try to go for broke and stuff your poem with similes till it’s . . . as dense as bread baked by a plumber, as round as the eyes of a girl who wants you to think she’s never heard such language, and as easy to miss as a brass band in a cathedral.

Now I don’t know if my similes are all that, (as mentioned in the examples above), but I did manage to pen a few. They say one should always write what one knowS. I guess you could say I know my subject quite well, like an old friend he is…my gentleman kittie, Merlin.

etiquette when death comes to call

etiquette when death comes to call

never send
cut flowers
to the grieving
they wilt
and die
a dismal reminder
of their beloved

it’s a cruel
thing to do
don’t you see

but if you must send
something green
a lovely potted plant
filled with buds
on the cusp
of blooming
or a tree
one that’s
hearty and strong
a tribute
a celebration of life
a reminder
that life goes on


Na/GloPoWriMo2022 Day 23 Prompt: write a poem in the style of Kay Ryan, whose poems tend to be short and snappy – with a lot of rhyme and soundplay. They also have a deceptive simplicity about them, like proverbs or aphorisms.

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