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The sycamore was young and strong until
that car crashed right against its trunk; a piece
was split. It held together by sheer will
and still the green leaves grew with spring's new lease.
The apple tree was young and lithe until
that lightening storm, the one that shocked its trunk.
For several years we thought it dead. To kill
a tree takes more than that – the tree has spunk.
The sycamore was scathed a second time.
Why stand for that, I wonder. Wait! A tree
can no more move than you or I. Refine
the meaning of success and see the we
of sycamore and apple tree who stand
together, lifelong friends, in changing land.
Image by:
Sonnet by:
Learn a new word every day
I’d like to learn a new word every day,
So then I’d be much smarter end of year.
Perhaps I’ll tackle next a Shakespeare play
And conquer primal English grammar fear.
For words bring pleasure even when there’s pain:
The pain of limbs gone bad, of weaker eyes,
Of body parts that will not heal the same,
Of loss, a long-term resident who cries.
I take a word and roll it in my mouth
And hold it up to sparkle in the light.
I introduce it to my friends, who doubt
Its value, though of course I think I’m right.
For words, till death shall part us from ourselves,
Are safely kept on memories’ pala
An Ugly Dress
The fashion magazine dares me
To wear an ugly dress.
Just as Ella Fitzgerald
Could have sung the phone book
And made it sound like angel song,
These models with their perfect teeth,
Flawless skin, giraffe-like bodies,
Draw me to their faces.
But with you and me,
People would see an ugly dress.
Image: Colornote (https://www.deviantart.com/colornote)
Words: Colornote (https://www.deviantart.com/colornote)
Contortions others like
You overwhelmed my senses with your views.
You made me dizzy so I could not stand.
You called the shots and made me feel so used.
I must have left my footing on the land.
I must be flying, scrambling inner ear’s
Ability to cope with constant change,
Or maybe floating in a sea of fear’s
Response to senses out of normal range.
You know I hate contortions others like.
They call this dislocation fun and games,
And revel in the chemicals that spike.
Adrenaline and thrills are dirty names.
They say, it’s just reflections, don’t be scared!
They wouldn’t say that if they truly cared.
Image: EintoeRn (https://www.deviantart.com/eintoern)
W
The ghost, the ghoul, the cat, the witch, the brew
Too scared of life, of things I can’t control:
The hurts, the sadness, all the crashing heads
And limbs and hopes and dreams, events that bowl
Me over, leaving me to mend my shreds.
What if I now become the ghost, the ghoul,
The witch, the zombie, changed before the change
Can do it first, offensive in the pool
Of time, no dip, but plunge into the strange!
So on All Hallow’s Eve, I think I’ll be
A cat with yellow eyes and flicking tail
Or else the witch that brews the special mead
Where just a sip ensures I cannot fail.
The ghost, the ghoul, the cat, the witch, the brew,
Then poof! I’ve straightened life
© 2013 - 2024 Colornote
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I can only follow Lúcia and Yvette 