Falling (poem)

free for a shining moment brief

fall’s printed folded airborne leaf-

lets sail the blues on winter’s eve

let’s fail with grace, then take our leave.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

Marigolds (trimeric poem)

When moving through midsummer’s haze

We search for answers, try in vain

To understand the seasons’ maze

Spring’s budding trees, and winter’s plain

We search for answers, try in vain

And meanwhile trees grow tall, and we

Shed like dry leaves ambitions vain

To understand the seasons’ maze

And find instead the utmost glee

In marigolds stuck in a vase

Spring’s budding trees, and winter’s plain—

From autumn’s top we clearly see— 

Peak of October will explain

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

WD Poetic Form Challenge: Trimeric 

"October knew, of course..."

'October knew, of course, that the action of turning a page, of ending a chapter or shutting a book, did not end the tale.
Having admitted that, he would also avow that happy endings were never difficult to find: "It is simply a matter," he explained to April, "of finding a sunny place in a garden, where the light is golden and the grass is soft; somewhere to rest, to stop reading, and to be content.”'

― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 4: Season of Mists

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

"Winter Garden": a Poem by Mark Windham

There is a stillness as I wander
the rows of the winter garden,
peaceful,
waiting for warmth.

Anticipation hides beneath the frost,
content with knowing seasons turn,
patient,
yet eager for the thaw.

The quiet is broken only by the wind
as it causes the dead leaves to rustle,
pretense
of growth and renewal.

The children watch from the window,
curious about my evening stroll,
ponder
what I search for in the cold.

There is a stillness as I wander,
content with knowing seasons turn,
prelude
of what I search for in the cold.


© Mark Windham

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 28

It comes as news, although you do expect

It will arrive one day, some distant hour

Way, way too soon it shows up to collect

The things we owned, or thought we did, to our

Most genuine bewilderment… our eyes

We can’t believe, we didn’t recognize

The signs that all were there, albeit concealed

Of seasons melting into seasons, fall

Is drawing to a close, her fate is sealed

And chilling mirrors prove you can not stall

The hands of that unyielding giant clock

But then you find that stealthy cruel tick-tock

Has a nice rhythm to it, and your heart

In unison with it starts ticking, and

The seasons past and current play their part

And what is bound to happen, near-at-hand

Chimes in, and time slows down as you embrace

The crow’s-feet on the fair-skinned winter’s face.

Live for the Love of it,

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

prompted by Poetic Asides

image credit