Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches

All May Promptly Poetry Prompts Complete weeks 43-47

Week 47 PPC ▼

what’s the rush?

wordsmith
p r o c r a s t i n a t i n g
scrambled

5.30.23
Brevette: a 3 word poem described here:
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Week 46 PPC ▼

Notice

It takes more effort not to notice

Above a rising meadow,
Monarch's wings float.
Bumbles bounce on the slow-reacting
long, green necks necks sprouting.
A spectrum of wild color serenaded
on the edge of towering pine.

Nature still calls me.
Early birds flee gray eyes,
flit from bough to branch to pale sky.
Senses acutely inhale
sweet bounty of aroma,
true memory of recollected childhood,
with her tight rein on a small hand
selflessly lead through joy shared.

Rustle of tossed dry leaves, their brothers
jittered on jutted branches, swayed.
You hear, smell, but can't taste, feel
or see anymore, life you had,
life she brought, sent when she passed
through the grass, beyond boughs
and spiraling leaves, above Monarchs.
Higher, a calling no winging bird
could ever hear.

Heavy clouds roam, deep-bluing.
Eyes blur to witness that sealed vault.
A child's outstretched, empty hand
can never reach -- touch her offering
to aid a wandering soul as guide.

5.30.23
free verse
prompt word: wings
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Week 44 PPC ▼

Sprung

Green top pierced
by a slow sun inspecting,
perpetual tunnel of time breathes
beneath frozen earth, releasing captors
new eyes, flocks of wildflower regeneration.
Warmth grows for nested, speck’d babes,
abandoned from their gathering mother’s eye,
hungrily chirp and cluster since hatch,
after the last snow melt, cracking open
Spring time on the sloping lawn.
Arrival,
renewed
rejoicing,
sprung from its long dormant, cold quarantine.

5.30.23
Prompt: shape poetry
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Week 45 PPC ▼

White Weight

Tight-packed beneath snow burden,
preserved from tread of oaf boots,
silent renewal awaits, solid underground.
Their mysteries hidden, lost since frost.

Memory hunches under white weight.
Blanketed, put to bed by Mother.
Frozen dreams beneath a roaming moon
unending, before spring eruption.

Flat bodies resurrect. Small,
green missile silos softly spear
the hard spaces, take aim.
Their cold captor, conceding.

Bright faith, greet my smile;
bathe in ever eternal light,
as a faded promise of love.
Though, I still don’t know,

within renewal, how to count
down these thinning seasons.
Perhaps, view through window pane,
intervals, flowing tides of time

across and beyond my lawn
to the other side. My dry eyes
slow go blind, don't follow, because
bliss ignorance, cover an unexpectant.


5.15.23
free verse
prompt: plants
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Week 43 PPC ▼

not really sure how to feel about it
something in the way you move..."

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Summers Eternal ending our charade

ocean bay waves scent
spray floral array
washes train of summer dress

you mask your presence
challenge a fool soul
as sand sucks down eager toes play

such elegant waste
contrasts your beauty
strip to flesh and wash your sin

a world we have been
needs no arrangement
our bare flesh vexes the sun

brown, nimble we run
no care for their clothes
yellow, purple fade in black

what language we lack
sipping Mohitos
beneath you in white moon glow

flowers in waves flow
slumber at our feet
wear my love for you all days

with each new array
bounty of blooms laid
adore eternal our days


5.1.23

summer never stays
new colors coming
lounge lingering memory

lounge = couch ?

Wave Haiku, building ocean/wave theme on 5-5-7 syllable stanzas with an echoing rhyme from third line to first line of next verse, linking as long as poem desires to go, until last three lines rhyme with end word of preceeding stanza’s third line. Nature/Romance intertwine with the poem's theme until natural end, when all words come ashore.
~ Created by Brian K. Compton,
borrowing from the Anglosaxonized Haiku in a restructured 17 syllable wave/crest stanza form. Original Wave Haiku poem, “Summer Eternal,'' launched new form.

picture prompt
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