Beth Camp's Blog, page 22

OctPoWriMo 30: I am . . .

What are mirrors for?Reflecting and reflected, I seekunderstanding in a drawing,the lines tentativewhen I want them to be bold.Ah, behind glasses, I waitfor enlightenment,for tomorrow,maybe for the ending that will comeafter so many days of living.How did I manage this giftof life and lovewhen all began in darkness?I don't know.I am grateful behind my glasses,more grateful than you know.Sometime

OctPoWriMo 29: Don't poke the bear . . .

Don't poke the bear in the cave,sound advice my grandfather gave me.Little did I think this would saveanything at all, let alone set me freeto wander far, to learn how to be brave;somehow I lifted myself up from knee,to run with full heart, no longer a slave,reckoning my inner self's plea,honoring the gift he once gave,to simply be.Today's prompt from OctPoWriMo and Morgan Dragonfellow winds

OctPoWriMo 28: No More

We moved a lot when I was a kid. Lived out of boxesand hotel rooms. Stayed with relatives and 'friends' I never met, switchedso many schools I can't remember.I grew up changing neighborhoods like the outfit of the day.All I wanted was that house on the hill,the one with a white picket fenceand roses.Then I fell in love with a manwho lived in the same house since he was three.Neither one of us

OctPoWriMo 27: One more week left and right .. .

One week left.We are poised rightbefore the election.Millions have cast their ballots.Millions more ready to stand in line. Wearing masks. Or not.Vote.One week from tonight,we millions will watch returns,hoping to avoid chaos,complaints of voter fraud,gun toting poll watchers.I am truly grateful to live in a state with 100% mail-in ballots.Election night one week away.Meanwhile a friend's mother

OctPoWriMo 26: In the dark . . .

When the witchsits above the window,is it time to hideunder the bed?If the pumpkin's readyfor carving,are the knivessharpened?As the final hours of the beast draw near, when the moonspins to darkness,is it safer outsideor in?Image by Alexas Photos on Pixabay 

OctPoWriMo 25: In the mud . . .

A poet friend of mine, Annis, also writing a poem a day for OctPoWriMo, created a new poetic form called Saba x Tatu (saba in Swahili stands for 7 and tatu for 3). The poetic form has seven lines, and each line decreases one syllable until the last line, which returns to 7 syllables. Her delightful poem is called "Stretch" and can be read HERE. Mayhap I'll never see acreature earthy as thee,

OctPoWriMo 24: Perfect Quiet

Perhaps a chimerings out over the walled gardenas the poet sits by the reflecting pool,a blank page before him.The hour passes.He raises his brush,as unexpected as a melody,the letters splash out,black on white,a controlled meaning:discipline,meditation,beauty.All in the moment,the now."32 Persons of Different Occupations Poetry Competition", 1494 (Wikipedia)After the end of World War II, my aunt

OctPoWriMo 23: Unexpected snow . . .

No one expected snow to turnour days upside down.Pandemic doesn't stop usfrom delighting in each flake,the transformation of our small landscapeto pure white, and now,dazzling sun, each towering pinesnow-kissed, wind-swept,a morning of hope.Image by Peggy Chocair on PixabaySnow at the end of October? Truly unexpected. About five inches fell last night. The sun is out, but I don't expect that snow

OctPoWriMo 22: I'll have me a . . .

I'll have me a biscuit. Pass 'em right over. Don't remember the last time I sunk my teeth into somethin' so fine. Don't dally, lover,I'll give you a dime afore I go back out on the line.Too many years I been a drover,my hands an' my heart filled with grime,but fer these biscuits, I'll pine,an' I'll have just one more.Friday morning biscuits (2020)My grandfather was a cowboy. I grew up

OctPoWriMo 21: If we were elephants . . .

If we were traveling into the future, wouldn't it beeasier to walk in a line,even with eyes closed, to knowsomeone is ahead of us,someone is behind us?Perhaps if we were elephants,we'd travel in the middle of a line,their tails swishing,an occasional huff of warm breath,reassuring, even after the sun went down.Like children, we could hold hands,not knowing what was ahead,but somehow, not worrying