Author: kvsalisbury

October 7

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At Rest

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Simply resting in the dropseed

Reclined among the beautiful

Mighty fine respite indeed

Gaze stays the same through the seasons.

All my senses I must employ

Remaining right here for reasons

Among the nature I enjoy

*

I never tire of the view

In fact it energizes me

Through time there’s always something new.

Just leave me right here, I am fine

Under my blanket of grasses

Gathering up all the sunshine

Just art to the passing masses.

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(A Saraband Poem)

October 6

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Stone Seeds

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The acorns soundly lie

Beneath oak trees sky high

Too large to yield to whims of squirrels

Will never multiply

While others sprout nearby

From stone seeds only silence unfurls.

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(A Short Particular Measure Poem)

October 5

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The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

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Mundane green grass covered with color bright

Each day there is just a little less light

Some find this time extremely depressing

These are all clues winter is in sight

*

This is the time when I feel alive

The darker, colder season’s when I thrive

Colorful leaves and soft snowflakes amaze

Thrilled when fall and winter arrive.

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(A Rubyat Poem)

October 4

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Pale freckled skin, keeps organs in

Protects me from the sun

All this flecking, requires checking

To the doctors I run

*

In cotton gown, I wait around

For examination

New magazines, computer screens

Office decoration

*

Skin is assessed, concerns addressed

At my age my spots change

Scanning processed, I can get dressed

We talk short range, long range

*

Have the “all clear”, return next year

Keep wearing the sunscreen

New spots appear, please have no fear

We’ll do the same routine

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(A Triquatrain Poem)

October 3

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The Pokeweed

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Birds denude

Dark purple fruit for food

Around here they call it inkberry

*

Derided by many as unnecessary

Removal from the landscape is customary

Diligent birds replant it by seed

*

Can be messy indeed

The Pokeweed

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(A Trois-par-Huit Poem)

October 2

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Playlist or Instruction Manual?

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La Roux wants to be bulletproof

Next time, the hardships will bounce off

I hear

*

Trading her scarred heart for armor

Is how Miranda will get by

I hear

*

The revolutionary kind

They aren’t, the deep bass of Gomez

Cautions

*

I will emancipate myself

From this mental slavery, true to

Jimi

*

I’ll be a sinner and a saint

Meredith says don’t be ashamed

I won’t

*

P!nk instructs to change the voices

In my head, to like me instead

I will

*

Antebellum says the compass

Musgraves says the arrow, I will

Follow

*

Tom Petty has me far from my

Troubles and worries, I belong

I’m free

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(A Synchronicity Poem)

October 1

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Not a Spectator Sport

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Life is this pink and blue treat ball

Upon first glance does not enthrall

Just sitting there not giving

Needing you to do the living

You need to act to get rewards

Life’s waiting to be explored

Live to the fullest, risk the fall

Get all you can from this treat ball

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(An Octelle Poem)

September 28

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Paper Wasp on Goldenrod

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It’s always a surprise to see

Not sure why I’m surprised to see

Wasps fly from flower to flower

– – – – – I am not scared

Is it the lack of hair that scares?

Slick pollinators causing dread

It’s always a surprise, you see

– – – – – I am not scared

Simply observe, no one gets stung

Evil’s in the beholder’s eye

Marvel at nature’s keen brilliance

– – – – – I am not scared

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(A Baccresieze Poem)

Wasp Pollination

September 26

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Fearful Cocoon of Ego

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Monarch butterfly floats

Flower to flower, over trees

Around leafy branches, between grass blades.

With feet on solid earth I watch afraid

I will never know gliding on the breeze.

But what if I devote

Time spent fearing to a mindful crusade

Each heartache a flower, I see

The plight as antidote.

In lieu of fear promote

Discomforts as a force esprit

All feelings as weightless escapade.

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A Bragi Poem inspired by Pema Chodron’s following words from The Places that Scare You:

“Although we have the potential to experience the freedom of a butterfly, we mysteriously prefer the small and fearful cocoon of ego.”

September 18

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Sicyos angulatus

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The bur cucumber

Winds its way

Across fence lumber

Tendrils stray

*

An annual vine

On display

Hairy stems that twine

Prevent sway

*

Flowers licked by bees

On pathway

Spiny fruits don’t please

Deer today.

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(A Cromorna Poem)