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 More poems for Promptly Poetry |
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Prompt: (verb) to move to action Promptly: (adverb) : very quickly or immediately Poetry: a form of writing that no one ever reads |
My Christmas blanket upon my bed, Gingerbread men with arms wide spread, Each stitch, every row crafted by hand, The bitter nights to withstand. A sleeping cat, snoring lightly, Curled and tucked up against me tightly. Two snuggled up in sleeping form, Struggling to keep one another warm. The aroma of coffee at five o’clock, Chugging and gurgling into the pot, Enough to fill my stoneware cup, And warm these winter fingers up. Week 14 Prompt - Tiny Happy Things Write a poem about at least three 'little' things that make you happy |
| It’s a soft whistle, high then low a morning call, that wakes me an ethereal echo of my childhood the singsong greeting of the chickadee And the books say it’s “fee-bee” But a "fee" requires teeth to filter A "bee" must explode through lips Such consonants they assigned you Could never be made by you Which is why you sing “wee-woo” (and I won’t even discuss the unlikelihood of “dee-dee-dee” my little chick) Prompt/Week # 13 Write a poem about a bird! Any bird, any color, your choice |
Freedom was the roadblock I was locked into a game of poke and prompt. Then she said: “write anything you want” (or words to that effect). The specs were simple and clear, but fear took all the words, all the ideas I had no instructions on what to do none given for me to adhere to. Two months gone by, so dumb - but I cannot write this poem. Written for Promptly Poetry Week 12 Prompt - Poets Choice |
| The leaves mutter and whisper as they skitter around our feet. The night is colder, crisper no hint of fog clouds the street. Then, putting on a fierce face A pumpkin dares to scare us! Knowing he cannot give chase, He must resolve to spare us. No witches fly, no black cats yowl cheery chatter fills my ears. There are no ghosts, no spirits foul only candy this time of year. Written for"Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)"  Week 11 Prompt - pumpkin, cat, fog |
Time entangled with the fibers of space is woven into the universe expanding ever outwards, driven away from me by some dark energy. Maybe Einstein understood, but even he was left behind by Time. It is a one-way street we travel. The past is a shadow, we cannot return. The future is inevitable, but my place in it is not guaranteed. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Week 10 Prompt - Time |
They told me: “Don’t go to the woods today!” But what harm was there if I go and play? “I want to visit my grandma ,” I say “Nothing nor no one will get in my way.” How could I know that a wolf great and tall, His coat grey and brown, but sleek over all, Would ask of me in his deep, growling drawl: “Where are you going, my red-hooded doll?” I tell you I saw no reason to lie, “I go to see Grandma” was my reply. “I’ll give you food if you let me go by, My basket holds cookies and minced meat pie.” The wolf thought it over and scratched his head, Should he choose pie or this girl dressed in red? His stomach growled, it wanted to be fed, He grabbed the basket - to the woods he fled! So if your grandma lives deep in the woods, Make sure you carry a lot of baked goods, To escape like Little Red Riding-hood, Trading your life for a basket of food. Promptly Poetry, Week 9 Prompt - image of a little girl and a wolf walking through an autumnal forest scene |
In you want the fruit, you must climb the tree - A piece of wisdom, and a quest, That my wise, old father set for me. A reminder of goodness found above, Even though from below, we may not see, Still, we strive to ascend new heights, Determined, at last, to be free. I am weary at times, I do confess But if I want that fruit, I must climb the tree. One that would have the fruit, must climb the tree. Thomas Fuller, English Clergyman Written for Promptly Poetry Week 8 Nine lines with the last word of each line rhyming with this scheme: "abacadaba" |
| I do not believe in luck. I don’t have no truck with claiming sovereignty over random things. I possess nothing mysterious. No inner force that can change the world or overcome gravity. In fact - if a falling brick misses me nearly I am grateful, dearly to the universal hand that slowed it down (or hurried me up). Luck says I rule but no, I only recognize the One who does. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Week 7 Prompt - Luck |
| It’s possible that this could be the day the morning to leap ahead of the alarm to wrestle all the shadows of my doubt and walk into the light leaving their lifeless forms behind me and forge a new future built on dreams or it’s possible that this is a dream that all these grandiose schemes are merely the misfirings of neurons undergoing repair and that sleep is the mechanic so I should pull the blanket tighter and stay until the work is done. Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Week #6 Prompt -- Write a poem about possibilities |
| Over the sleeping world, memory wanders. In dreams, it follows familiar paths of footprints pressed into timeless snows, until desperate fingers grab the icy blanket and roll over. It’s a journey of love and longing - chasing shadows of things out of reach, plucking the past from winter’s grip, anointing it with tears, mixing joy with regret, mourning the final setting of so many suns, their lights extinguished. 14 Lines Written for"Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Week 5 Write a poem about something that will always be out of reach. |
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