Poetry Zone

A few poems emerged after the past few weeks. Here they are:

Prompt: "Since (blank)"

Since I Became a Writer

The words were mine before I was theirs, a wordsmith.

Ten years, no, make it a dozen, before
“Are you a writer?” didn’t make me cringe.
I won a contest, then two and published
A story, a devotional, even lesson plans
Until I whispered to myself, I am a writer

(untitled)

The stories disappeared the day my daughter died

Words traipsed through my mind like strands of color
Raging red, burning gold, blue repose, green reborn
Poetry called but I didn’t answer
Rhythms and rhymes, alliteration and abc,
Pound the keys
I write poetry
But am I
A poet?

The Road to Poetry

Addicted with the first story

Twenty years and more
Words slip and slide
One sentence, one chapter, one book
Jonesing for a fix at opus number thirty
Demanding a more powerful drug
Adding rhythm and rhyme
One word, one rhyme, one line
Words reborn as poetry
Dare I proclaim it?
A writer? Yes.
A poet?
I must

FORM: "Wrapped refrain."

My Yes Is Me

To find my yes, what does it mean
Do I dance and smile and sing, keen
For rhythm and joy without end
Guaranteed happiness my friend
But golden skies fade to gray, manic turns depressed
Party’s over, and I have yet to find my yes

My yes is all me, unabridged

Mad, sad, glad, and more, acknowledged
Daily discoveries enhance
Self-portrait, too much for a glance
Exuberant expression, light and dark, a spree
Spending each moment without fear, my yes is me

While at the hospital:

May Day
May day, flower day, blooms strung into leis day
May day, play day, every day a fun day
May day, sun day, temperatures climb high day
May day, sky day, will tornadoes come day
May day, drum day, honoring war's dead day
May day, head day, toss black caps in air day
May day, care day, Moms are number one day
May day, Son day, beginning and the end day