PENCHANTS
Photo credit: Keith R. Good
PENCHANTS
my air,
chilled
my coffee,
hot
my words,
spilled
my muse,
caught.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
FOR POETIC BLOOMINGS AUTUMNAL POEM-A-DAY CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE, 2018 DAY 1 PROMPT: COLD
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
Category: Poetic Bloomings
October 14, 2018
October 7, 2018
SAVING SOUNDS
They’ve not been gone long.
Just a few month’s time.
Sometimes I hear her laugh.
His voice, singing,
“I don’t buy sugar —
Just touch my cup.”
Her coffeemaker’s sizzle.
His, “Go Bucks.”
Her, “I love you. —
You know that.”
His drums.
Her sigh.
I clutch these sounds —
Secure them to my heart,
And listen to its beat.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
October 5, 2018
Untitled Tanaga Form
“Honey, you’re sweet as a peach!”
Funny, you ‘cling’ like a leech.”
Two peas in a pod, they’re each
Using a figure of speech.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
September 30, 2018
FALL OF MY HEART (sonnet for autumn)
Photo credit: Keith R. Good
Way back, when I was just a little girl
My heart fell hard and fast for autumn’s charms.
As summer ends, the joys of fall unfurl,
With football, marching bands, and pumpkin farms.
Drum cadence seems to beat within my chest
As scarlet, gold, and ginger grace our trees.
The scents of burning leaves, and apples pressed,
Or baked ‘tween flaky crusts, give me weak knees.
When sun shines full in autumn’s deep blue sky,
Or harvest moon looms larger than my home,
It simply leaves me breathless. My-oh-my,
I cannot paint my fondness in a poem.
I have this wish – believe me, it’s sincere –
I wish fall lingered ten more months per year.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
September 28, 2018
TREEHOUSE
We could build a treehouse there
Where quiet breeze flows through the wood
And echoes of our childhood
Still faintly hover in the air.
I ponder it with broadening smile!
So, could we build a treehouse there?
I know we could, but do we dare?
I think it just might be worthwhile.
I hope that you can be convinced
For once my heart became aware
That we could build a treehouse there,
I’ve been obsessing ever since.
It wouldn’t be the same elsewhere
For that is where we laughed and played
And where our hearts took root and stayed.
I’m glad we built a treehouse there.
© Marie Elena Good
September 23, 2018
LOCKED
“Pandora’s Box” prompt and photo, provided by Walter Wojtanik of Poetic Bloomings
Out of fear
(or worse — indifference)
she waited too long
to unlock the trunk she daily
(habitually)
avoided. Tripped over. Pretended wasn’t there.
Summoning the courage, she unlocked it.
Discovered a long-lost page.
Dulled. Faded. Not easily read.
Less easily understood.
For times had changed,
and, therefore,
the truths that had shaped them.
Right?
As she tried to examine
and understand,
she began to question
everything.
Perhaps wrong paths had been taken.
Destructive habits had formed.
Perhaps what was true, then,
was no less true, now.
Perhaps times change,
but truths remain.
Perhaps it was up to her
to unlock
release
embrace.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
September 21, 2018
NORTHWEST OHIO
I live among the oak, and pine.
The locust. The buckeye.
The sugar and silver maples.
Home is dappled sunlight.
In nearby fields, green corn and soy,
orange pumpkins, or golden wheat
contrast against intense-blue sky.
No wonder why the man I love
longs to return to farming the land,
missing the “big toys” he used to enjoy.
The open fields that call his name,
and leave space for breath and prayer.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
September 16, 2018
CURIOSITUNITES
Castoff the conception that curiosity
killed the cat.
Inquisitiveness is
the origin of opportunity.
Actually, cultivated curiosity
converts to curiositunity,
and curiositunity
attracts astounding actuality.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
September 10, 2018
A CORD OF THREE STRANDS
They began, young.
Lovely and in love
Healthy and hopeful
Playful and promising
To have and to hold
From this day
Forward, fast
Furiously fading
As Alzheimer’s attempts
To dilute and damage
Life and love
Strongly seduced.
Still,
Promise prevailed.
“All my love, and love me always”
In illness and health,
Held by God’s hands
And the cord of three strands,
Stands
Against all
Ashes to ashes
Forever co-mingled
In the perpetual presence
Of the One who,
Singly, and synchronously,
Breathed life
And an always love.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
“And if someone overpowers one person, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not easily broken.” ~ Ecclesiastes 4:12
Forever my love to Mom and Dad, now eternally at rest, in the presence of the One.
pictured words 