#BalloonsBlow
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Glitter
Litter
Flitter
Bitter
In the garden glitter litter lies
I watch it flitter, bitter cries
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(A Tyburn Poem)
#BalloonsBlow
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Glitter
Litter
Flitter
Bitter
In the garden glitter litter lies
I watch it flitter, bitter cries
_____________________________________
(A Tyburn Poem)
Contumelious
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An archaic term
Old-fashioned, antiquated
Yet we witness living examples daily
On television, on radio
In big white houses and small suburban homes
Perhaps not obsolete but modern
Perhaps not irrelevant but relevant
Perhaps not anachronistic but timely
We need a new way to describe daily horror
Why not use an outmoded term
Describing modern behavior perfectly?
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(A Free Verse Poem)
Sunday Sounds
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The game is on in the background
The woodstove clicks warming the home
Soft padding as the kitty roams
Dominoes clatter marking next round
Loved ones chatter, glasses clinking
A great Sunday to my thinking.
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Sunday Games
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Playing games on Sunday afternoon
No one will win anytime soon
Twelve more rounds of this game to play
Keeping our dots incognito
Until our turn at dominoes
Family chatter causing delay
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Practice Makes Permanent
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Visualize letting go
Egolessness is there
Sending, taking daily
Samsara evasion
Everything’s workable
Loving kindness to all
*
Om – open mind relax
Future is the presence
Yielding to compassion
Om – relinquish control
Understand discomfort
Reflection is the way
*
Meditation practice
Ahimsa is the goal
Invite self-awareness
Testing, acting, healing
Resisting judgement
It is always practice
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Winterizing
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So clever are these furry squirrels
Tails twitch, swirl, gathering food
So rude, around branches they twirl
Hurling leaves, nuts from altitude
Barking with attitude, spunky
Chunky things, feeder invaders
Compost raiders, birdseed junkies
Charm school flunkies, hawk evaders.
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Burnt Sienna
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A new box of crayons waxy points undented
Deep in my mind the fragrance is cemented
It’s wasn’t until I saw a bald cypress tree in fall
That I had any idea what burnt sienna was at all
Detours out of thick black lines once lamented
In reality my vocabulary augmented
*
My world is colored by crayolas pigmented
Names partnered with hues gave me the wherewithal
To precisely describe my world big and small
Into my memory these colors are cemented.
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(A Sonnetina Quatro)
Taxodium distichum
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You think it’s dead but instead it’s going dormant
In summer scenes it looks evergreen, so tricky
*
Not a Christmas tree you see it’s deciduous
In winter’s glare it’s completely bare of needles
*
Unlike other trees it sends up knees for breathing
Found in swampy spots and parking lots it adapts
*
Round top is skyward bound, leaves cover ground gently
Bumper lode of spherical cones explode softly
*
A tree is waters dark and large parks, majestic
A tree of mystery and beauty, Bald Cypress
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Traditions
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Holidays roll around
Anticipated but always more quickly
Than you thought, and with them
Come an avalanche of rituals, customs, stories.
What is your tradition?
*
In all the chaos and stress
And all of the change-up of daily routine
What we do the same each year calms us in the chaos.
My calm is making cranberry orange bread from scratch
Hand chopping, hand mixing, warm and heart warming.
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(A Sonnetina Cinque)