Happy April!

I've got friends near and far

I've got springtime in a Mason jar!

I've got hope, I've got love

I've got everything I could dream of

I've got faith, strong and true

I've got springtime in a jar for you!

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

"I am fully and intensely aware..."

“I am fully and intensely aware that plants are conscious of love and respond to it as they do to nothing else.” 

-- Celia Thaxter, poet and gardener

Celia Thaxter in her Garden, 1892, by Childe Hassam

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

A Bit of a Fairy-tale: First Crocuses

crocuses spring from the earth
steadfast tin soldiers
be still

Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

Love sonnet

I would be cunning if I were to say, 

“I care not for the mem’ries of our youth,

What came to pass, the fires of yesterday

Do not disturb my slumb’ring heart.” In truth

It’s oft awake until the spark of dawn

Ignites the sky, until the eastern welkin

Is set ablaze with ardent hues that spawn

Yet further reminiscing. But mistaken

You’d be, my love, should you presume that I

Dwell on the flaming past, for we’ve been blessed

With here and now; nor would I ever try

To keep the sun from falling in the west:

Together we shall watch the ancient scars

Burn down to ashes strewn amidst the stars.

Live for the Love of it,

Happy

Make a turn.

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 7: Love/Anti-Love poem

Longing

I built a small rock garden next to the stone patio, just steps away

from the old kitchen with its nineteen thirties

cabinets that have doors that wouldn’t close refusing to keep

their ghosts locked; I didn’t go far searching, I used the stones

that lay in the backyard, most of them flat –

parts of what once was a perfect border – now buried

underneath the overgrown lawn, when scraped clean their gray

 showed the sparkle in it; the rest –  that

I would like to think were left behind when the frozen

waters retreated melting some years before my time – formed

the crescent-shaped foundation upon which

 I piled the flat ones, building what resembled an Irish wall of sorts,

my small rock garden becoming more of a raised bed, a vessel to be

filled with fresh dirt, parsley and dill seeds

when spring comes after the long wait; on top of the wall

I put two stones with words imprinted on them, the kind they sell

at nurseries, a gift,  “hope” read the one,

the other “joy”, I seem to have misplaced the third one –

“love”.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")

written for Poetic Asides

Two Valentines

Happy Valentine's Day!

the hour of content

the dense silence of presence

everyone is home

 * * *

the whimsical willows

the words on the wall

the world that is waiting

the waters that fall
 

the wishes we whisper

the bottomless well

the wee hours get crisper

the winter waves swell

the ‘why?’, the uncertain

the cruel would-have-been

the wooing, the curtain

the vows in between

the one thing we own

the now with no end

the wonder we’ve known

the storms that we fend

the years that we weather

the wordless ‘love you’

the warmth of together

the oneness of two

written for Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild:

The Sound of Love & The Sound of Love: Devices - Onomatopoeia

 

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy") 

Weekly Wikems. White.

Hi everyone, it's Thursday. Wikems time.

Wikipedia poems - wikems. 

Here's the idea:

• Each Thursday I post a link to a Wikipedia article, a quote from it and my wikem inspired by that quote.
• I invite you to check out the article, searching for a quote that clicks with you.  (You are free to use the quote I provide if it happens to be the one.)  
• Once you've found your quote, use it as an epigraph, write your wikem, and post a link to it in the comments below.  (You are welcome to post your wikem directly in the comments if you prefer.)

 Let's play:

This is what my backyard looks like when we get snow.  The picture is not from this week - the blizzard didn't reach us at all - no, it's actually from last week.  We had one perfect winter day.  The following morning the snow was gone.
 
So, here's your Wikipedia article: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White

  
Here's my wikem:

THE COLOR OF FIRE 

“White is the color of fresh snow…the color produced by the combination of all the colors of the visible spectrum.”

The flames slip in
through the drawn blinds,
dance on the crisp sheets,
cool - hot to the touch.

Winter storms blaze,

lit their way, as they explore

each other’s intricate lines,

never taking the same path.

White light is all they see–

the prism of time will

disperse it into colors–

for now they are blind.

Blind, and the snow

comes down, hard, steady,

and the wild fire rages,

and they burn clear. 

Thank you for reading my wikem.  
I look forward to reading yours.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 30

As sure as night will fall and slowly blend

In with the dawning day, as sure as fall

Will lay her weapons down and cease to fend

Off winter, and the foes embrace, and all

The seasons come to pass, each in its turn

As sure as hungry hearts will ever yearn

If only for a glimpse of that July

That used to burn within them, that they failed

To keep, as sure as from the truths we try

To grasp, but one old truth will have prevailed

When all the days of ours are through and gone

As sure as life will end, love will go on.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides

image credit

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 29

Hold on to autumn, to this fragile ray

The sun has reached you with, it will not last

This free fall of November, time won’t stay

Suspended what’s to come and what has passed

Between, so hold them close, these final hours

Still clinging to the calendar, for ours

Are those short-lived bright moments that we touch

Without a hope of keeping them, they fleet

And yet remain, and reappear with such

Stark clarity, it sweeps us off our feet

When in the midst of winter’s endless plain

We glimpse our autumn, falling once again.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides

image credit