Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo2022

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.

a villanelle for Na/GloPoWriMo 2022

who will feed the birds when i’m gone
i think these things as i’ve grown gray
how will the world get along

is worrying about this wrong
i guess i’ve always been this way
who will feed the birds when i’m gone

caring for others, being strong
it’s who i am, what can i say
how will the world get along

time is fleeting, we don’t have long
to make a difference, seize the day
who will feed the birds when i’m gone

live, love, forgive when you’ve been wronged
work hard, but take some time to play
how will the world get along

i know. blah, blah, blah same old song
hard to do but easy to say
who will feed the birds when i’m gone
how will the world get along


Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 - Day 22 Prompt: write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of things.

For today’s challenge, a villanelle.

Here’s what a villanelle looks like:
A1-b-A2 / a-b-A1 / a-b-A2 / a-b-A1 / a-b-A2 / a-b-A1-A2
* A1 is a refrain line that is repeated throughout, sometimes with small variations
* A2 is another refrain line, which end-rhymes with A1
* a denotes lines that end-rhyme with A1 and A2
* b denotes a line using a (usually) different end-rhyme.
There is no set line length, though many poets choose 8–10 syllables.

A Friend, A Job, A Painting, A Lie

Auguste Renoir Odalisque 1870, oil on canvas at the National Gallery in Washington, D.c.
A Friend, A Job, A Painting, A Lie

just the other day
i ran into an old friend
her name? well i couldn’t say…
i remembered then
we were close once, as she walked away

night shift at Denny’s
i kept cups filled with coffee
serving strangers for pennies
and kept company
with other odd night owls like me

her dark eyes piercing my soul
provocatively posing
she draws me in close
ensnared by her charm, she swallows me whole

it’s just a white lie
you’re just trying to be nice
so look ‘em straight in the eye
don’t let them ask twice
bend the truth a bit, that’s my advice


Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 Day 21 Prompt: write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.

For today i decided to use the Horatiodet, a short form of the Horatian Ode that I created a few years ago. I wrote a stanza for each part. They don’t really mesh. Not sure if they were supposed to, but it’s on prompt and you get 4 for 1 today! 😊

The Horatiodet is a total of 5 lines, syllable count: 5-7-7-5-9 / rhyme scheme: ababb. In other words, it is a short Horatian Ode (only one stanza), a form based on the style of Horace, Quintus Horatius Flaccus (December 8, 65 BC – November 27, 8 BC), the leading Roman lyric poet.

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