One Day In the Life of Murphy

Written for Poets United, Mid-week Motif~”One Day in the Life of . . .”
(a person, a place, or a thing)

He yawns, stretches out
back legs, and paddles
his way off the bed.

A quick pee in the rain,
and he’s back, shaking
his body like a rippling
stream. He knows
there will be no walk today.

Stands guard at food dish,
impatiently tapping nails
on wood floor, until
breakfast is fetched,
and new water poured.

Ah, a nice curl on the couch
for a bit,
a dog bed snooze
for a bit,
and its toy time.
Shake each toy three times.

Later in day, he naps
in front of the hypnotizing
heat of the fireplace.
He wrestles with his sister,
and a chum from next door.

Wow, dinner time already!
Back to the food dish.
He lies in wait
on the carpet until
his live-withs are finished
eating, then trips them
on the way to the kitchen
to get his treat.

New toys emerge
for play.  Next,
curl up time with sis,
bookends on one pillow.

Follows his lady
live-with up the stairs,
and watches her head
for the office. He waits
on his sister’s bed until
she is finished.

Trots downstairs, jumps
on lap for television
time, rising only to chase
every animal that appears
on the screen.

Bedtime is announced.
He grabs a new toy,
and follows live-withs
up the stairs. He climbs
up his own stairs, into bed.

Yawn, stretches out
back legs, and buries
himself under the blankets,
attaching his body
to a leg. He begins
to snore.

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Air Rescue

Written for:  Poetic Asides #285
Write a foundation poem (morals and high ideals, organization, or concrete foundation.

Pilots poured
their hearts, minds, and time–
with help from
into rescuing dogs from 
death in kill shelters.

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A Lanterne

Written for:  Creative Bloomings, InForm:  Lanterne
The Lanterne is a type of poem that has one syllable in the first line, two syllables in the second line, three syllables in the third line, four syllables in the fourth line, and one syllable in the fifth line that related to the first word of the poem.  poem is based on one sentence or idea

night ghosts
and goblins
on Halloween

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“river stones”

Written for:  Carpe Diem #586, River Stones (November 2013) reprise, Tan Renga

river stones
caressed by flowing water
pale moon shines                                                        (Becca Givens)

Iridescent greens and blues
like precious gemstones of life                                          (Sara McNulty)

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Written for:  Margo Roby’s P0em Tryouts:  “It Was An Accident”
Why does each accident occupy a memory cell? What is it about each event that keeps it with you? You can write a straight forward poem recalling an accident. Or, you can reach for a larger universal truth with the accident merely highlighting that truth. The speaker might, or might not, be you. Consider writing in present tense as if the accident is happening now.

This was so not my fault,
Mom. This old lady backed
out? Like she didn’t
even look? Can you believe?
Seriously, Mom? Come on,
I will pay you back
at the end of the month.
I swear. Okay whatever -
I’ll get a job thingy.

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This is Your Time

Written for:  Creative Bloomings, “Life As You Know It”
You are the Professor of “LIFE 101″. What is the first lesson you would impart? Write it as a poem!

This is your time
to decide which things
in life move your heart,
tickle your funny bone,
make you want to be part
of this world.

This is your time
to learn all you can
about yourself. Do not
put life on a shelf, thinking
it will stay put. Life moves
along like a song,
that eventually reaches
its last note.

This is your time
to live.

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Mother’s Oak

Written for:  The Mag 242


Autumn was the time of year
she liked to travel,
visit her mother’s
gravesite. In the skirt
of an old oak tree,
she spread a blanket,
and talked to her
mother, catching her
up on family news.
She bent over to move
some errant leaves
and stone that covered
the word, Mother. Then,
she thought, look at how
the oak tree and its family
are taking mother into
their fold. Maybe she
is adapting a new form.

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The Mistaken Martyr

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #183
words:  crazy, martyr, prisoner, secret, laughter, shine, childhood, seer, diamond, steel, stranger, shadow

Seer stands in shadow
of childhood, knowing
a secret that shines
like a diamond reflected
on steel. Hears crazy
laughter. The prisoner
is innocent, a pawn
in the game of a stranger,
who is free to roam,
and is mistakenly thought,
a martyr.

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Monkey Puzzle Tree

Written for Poets United, Midweek Motif~Tree(s)

Tree(s): What was/is a tree to you?  
Is there one you miss or wish to meet someday?
Monkey Puzzle Tree

Monkey Puzzle Tree

I want to see those tangled branches
of the monkey puzzle tree. The name
fascinates me. I think of steel
monkey bars I climbed as a child.
Wild as they were, imagine bendable
branches for climbing, with seeds
you can eat along the way. They say
the tree got its name because
of the notion that even a monkey
could not climb a puzzle, but
wouldn’t you like to try?

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The Last Cruise

Written for:  Red Wolf Poems #223, “Three-Hour Tour”
Thinking of Gilligan’s Island

They told me of
a fantasy cruise
to an unspoiled isle
of emeralds and blues.

A storm kicked up,
our Captain was lost.
When we finally hit land
the natives looked cross.

They spoke a strange language,
painted their faces
with white thunderbolts.
Of all the places

we could have landed
this one was not civil.
We tried to befriend them,
they made us snivel.

If you found this message
It’s already too late,
for the natives boiled water;
guess who they ate?

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