Poetry Train: Tulips are poeming

Today in Poetry-writing class I had my kids use nouns as verbs in their poems and this is what I came up with.

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Tulips are poeming
out all over.

I see their lines
against stone walls

in a multi-colored
rhyme scheme.

Clumps of them
sonnet gardens

while straggler haiku
dot lawns.

Tulips are penciled
on the green paper
of spring.

Season Change for TOP

Yesterday Afternoon

The front porch
was a pan
full of melted butter.

I sat like a bowl
of popcorn
and let the sun

drizzle all over me
on this first real day
of finally spring.

Naisaiku: Temper winter spirits

Come, March, and cajole
the recluse crocus faces
out of their prisons.
TEMPER WINTER SPIRITS
out of their prisons.
The recluse crocus faces
come. March and cajole.

Poetry Train: Setting the clock ahead

Setting the Clock Ahead

What happens to the hour
we lose when we spring
forward to daylight
savings time?

Does it explode into dust
and become those motes
swimming in the slant
of afternoon sun?

Does it get buried
along with the poems
never written
in that hour,
all the songs never sung,
all the paintings
never sketched,
all the thoughts
never born?

Or does it melt
into the next hour
making us doubly creative
for those sixty
pregnant minutes?

Where do those dandelion
fluff moments
disappear to when man
takes a deep breath
and, thinking that it fills
him with wisdom,
blows them apart
and sacrifices them
to the winds
of daylight?

Day 20 and 3WW

Picture Reflected Stop
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The faintest chartreuse
on the gray hillsides

Rust-colored baby leaves
on our neighbor’s tree

Pregnant green buds
on the lilac bush

I stop cleaning long enough
to take a mental picture

of life reflected
in these hints of color

Empowered

for Writers' Island February 29, 2009
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On the south
side of our house
in a sunny spot
the snow
has melted
away from the foundation
and crocus leaves
have stuck their
noses out
of the ground.

Inside the house
I sit in the warm
glow of my
computer screen
feeding logs
of ideas
into the fire
of my poetry.