My Love of Summer

How does summer fly?
Warmth of days gone by
Outdoors
Barbeques imply
Tasty chicken thigh
No chores
Scents waft to the sky
Past a loud magpie

Autumn I’ll defy
Sunset we decry
Hawk soars
Weather is bone dry
Cherish mid-July
Lake shores
Warmth of days gone by
How does summer fly?

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Today’s poem combines the prompt at NaPoWriMo.net, which calls for a seasonal poem featuring all senses and a rhetorical question, and the dVerse Poets Pub Lai Nouveau poetry form.

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I’m Fine?

At level 3 or 4 on the pain scale
you can ignore the pain

most of the time

Until it’s no longer a 4
but a 5 or a 6 instead

As I fight to ignore the neck pain
the referred arm pain
all the other little aches and pains

Living on Advil and Flexeril
with a heating pad around my neck

I hear the echo in my mind
—That doesn’t hurt
—You’re fine

I heard those phrases often as a child
they’ve become a part of me

Instead of hearing this refrain
in my mom’s voice or an aunt’s voice
it’s my own voice that insists it doesn’t hurt
that I’m fine

But it does hurt
I’m not fine
And ignoring the pain is exhausting

Thankfully my doctor gets it
Her assistant gets it
—Your 3 is probably someone else’s 8

Those are words that heal
Maybe not my body
It will never be fully healed

But my soul
And that incessant voice
telling me to just keep ignoring it

Because of them I am fine
knowing it’s okay to be not fine
And it’s okay to ask for help
to seek treatment

Then I can go on living my life
with a reprieve from the pain
and that annoying voice

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Sound Check

Check. Check.

One two three.

Check.

Sounds great.

Now where’s Mellencamp?

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Risen

We shout He is risen
but do we understand
the importance of the rising
of the Son of man?

Today on Easter Monday
and tomorrow and the next
we need not be fearful
worried or perplexed

Hope has risen
freeing us from death’s prison

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At dVerse Poets Pub today Merril is calling for Quadrilles with some form of the word rise. With Easter still on my mind, I came up with this little poem.

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Empty

An empty glass of water
An empty cupboard
An empty bird feeder
An empty riverbed
An empty box of chocolates
An empty cookie jar
An empty wallet
An empty dog house
An empty bank account
An empty vase
An empty home
An empty gas tank
A mother’s empty arms
An empty horse corral
An empty grain silo
An empty heart
An empty stomach
My spouse’s empty side of the bed
A newborn’s empty crib

All made well by
The empty Tomb

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The ABCs of Flowers

All through spring and summer flowers
Bloom bright and fair
Crocus are the first to pop
Dauntless even in snow
Each daffodil and tulip will
Fetch a joyful smile
Grape hyacinth are faithful and
Heliotrope waft a captivating scent
Iris stand tall and proud as
Jonquil brighten the way and
Keep the garden light
Lantana amaze with color changing
Mystery only heaven comprehends
Narcissus known as paper whites
Open delicate blossoms
Peony pale and petunia bold
Quixotic in their way
Roses red and white the age-old
Standard symbol of love
Tiger Lily so exotic
Utterly beautiful is the
Variety with verbena and
Wild violet gracing the terrace and
Xylobium orchid in the greenhouse
Yarrow in the field and
Zinnia flourishing out back

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No More Veil

The Holy of Holies
Where God dwelt
Behind a veil
The High Priest knelt

The veil of blue
Purple and scarlet
Barred the way
Because of debt

When on the cross
My Jesus died
Darkness fell
And women cried

The veil was torn
Ripped in two
Opening the way
For me and you

Our debt was paid
Access is granted
The Spirit within
Our hearts is planted

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