I woke early this morning thinking about my poem for today. I wasn’t prepared. I had nothing. So I searched through my notebook, hoping to come across a discarded line or phrase. I found this reference to dreams:
“Bits and pieces of unexpected memories trying to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle”
That was certainly me, trying to put together bits and pieces for a poem today.
Then I came across something that I think was inspired by a book title, The Invisible Bridge. I often use titles of books, poems, or songs for inspiration. I remember starting with a “What if” question (What if I were invisible?), then followed up with scraps of ideas, “bits and pieces trying to fit together like a jigsaw puzzle,” and this:
If I Were Invisible
If I were invisible I’d crouch among the radishes completely out of sight, then make friends with the tiny mouse who nibbles through the night.
We’d cross a bridge to nowhere, find a field of buttercups, then scamper home, and curl to rest in a cozy little nest. Draft, 2022 Rose Cappelli
I can usually find inspiration or bits and pieces of something when I reread my notebooks. I’m glad I did this morning.
Dave has the roundup today (his first!) at Leap of Dave, where a post of mine from May is tagged. (Thanks for shout out, Dave.) Be sure to stop by for some poetry fun.
I loved volunteering as a docent in the children’s garden at Longwood Gardens– sparking curiosity, rousing squeals of delight, sharing a story. But since the pandemic, my role at Longwood has changed. I’m now a garden greeter. It’s definitely different, and although I do miss working with the children, I enjoy interacting more with guests.
One very hot day last week, in between answering questions about the schedule for fountain shows and helping a guest discover the type of tree we were standing under, I watched a thunderstorm rolling in. My mind started swirling, words and phrases coming at me like a sudden downburst. I was fearful of forgetting everything, so I used the voice app on my phone to quickly record in Notes (a first for me). The rhythm of the waltz playing during the fountain show inspired the meter when I finally got a chance to sit down and write.
Luckily the storm passed us by, but it left its mark in the words it inspired. I think the whole afternoon of inspiration and creativity meant much more than the result I offer here.
Breezes swish leaves and move hazy gray clouds. Birds gather close to their young. Rumbles of drums, Flashes of light— a thunderstorm’s coming our way. Draft, 2022Rose Cappelli
Margaret’s got the round up at Reflections on the Teche where she’s celebrating her birthday with rainbows and poetry. Be sure to take a peek!
I love finding small surprises in the garden when I’m out tending plants, pulling weeds, feeding birds. One day this week I started noticing some fallen leaves nibbled into beautiful lace-like patterns. It was a sign that fall is on its way (even though the temps have been sky high), but it also felt like a little thank you note from nature. What else does nature leave as a calling card or a thank you note?
Thank You Notes
a pattern of lace in a nibbled leaf the richness of a bluebird’s wing morning dew igniting a silky web the miracle of a hummingbird caterpillar feet tickling milkweed honeysuckle’s sweet scent a new bud on the rosebush, tiny and tight a sunflower reaching the roof nature’s small surprises Draft, 2022Rose Cappelli
Molly has the roundup today over at Nix the Comfort Zone where she shares some great baseball poems. Be sure to stop by.
Last summer I was inspired to write a poem “What the Milkweed Knows” from a post I read from Mary Lee Hahn. That inspired me to suggest to my Inked Voices poetry group the prompt “What the _____Knows.” I’ve had my grandkids with me this week so I wasn’t sure I’d find time to write, but I managed to squeeze in a few minutes of early morning quiet to write.
One of the activities the kids really wanted to do was catch fireflies. With their noses pressed against the window, they kept searching for that first blink. When it was time, they ran into the yard full of excitement. My husband or I would grab a firefly, then we would all gather around and make a wish before setting it free. At 4 and a half and almost 3, I’m not sure they fully understood the wish part, but they delighted in the wonder of this small creature. Eventually they caught a few of their own. It was such a joy to to experience nature with them.
What Does a Firefly Know?
a warm cupped hand a whispered wish a squeal of delight as wings take flight Draft, 2022Rose Cappelli
It seemed fitting to post this today since Mary Lee has the round up here. Be sure to visit for more poetry fun.
There’s something about geraniums, especially red geraniums. I like the way they contrast with the hosta along the side of the shed. This year I purchased a large hanging plant of red geraniums and white lobelia for the corner of the patio. They are flourishing and I look forward to their cheery greeting every morning as I step out to feed the birds.
As a child, my sister and I helped my mother decorate the family cemetery plot every year on memorial day. Along with petunias and marigolds, there were always red geraniums. My sister and I continued the tradition of decorating the graves for many years after my mother died. That memory inspired this poem that was part of my April poetry project “Flowers A-Z.”
The flower boxes are ready— marigolds, alyssum and always always red geraniums. They’ll travel to the cemetery, decorate graves of loved ones long gone— and always always I’ll remember how much she loved red geraniums. Draft, 2022Rose Cappelli
Jan has the roundup today at Bookseed Studio. Be sure to stop by to learn about sijo poetry.