We often have poetry programs at the library in April to celebrate National Poetry Month. This year we are doing it on the blog.
It is National Poetry Month for Kids too! Write a poem and send it to the library
via email (sweaver@harrisville.lib.nh.us).
Or let's create a Harrisville Community poem together. Send to the same
email address, one line or more about what you like about Harrisville,
and we will put it together. If you want to be included in the list of
poets , include your name or pen name (an assumed name used by a writer instead of their real name).
I am encouraging anyone who is interested in sharing a poem here to send it to me via email (sweaver@harrisville.lib.nh.us). You can type it out, record yourself reading, or do a piece of artwork to share. I'd like to encourage people of all ages to contribute!
Our first poem is from Sarah Kendall:
dawn’s
snow
caught.
safe
hemlock
fronds.
lunching
goldfinches
launch.
forsythia
smiles.
sbkendall
spring 2020
(17 syllable haiku,
japanese vertical style)
Hillary Kingsbury sent us this poem:
He mourned the passing of his mom.
His best friend lost his second one.
We knew it wouldn't be long.
Grim Reaper took their pain away---
miss them till our dying day.
Circle of life is the prophetic phrase,
will we get over this grieving phase?
Hospice stays they hold our hands.
Do they respect our silent commands?
Mom and dad, wishing they knew
where their health was going to.
Cry, rebel, return, cling, respect,
insult, love, hate, love, love, love, hate
Grim Reaper took their joys away---
miss them 'til our dying day. Hilary Kingsbury
Abigail sent us Stone Pond (epic) Haiku.
Stone Pond
A. Abrash Walton
At dusk, on water
Loon calls to the coming night
Owl replies, starlight
Pearl moon full and round
Casts long shadows trees to ground
Insects chorus, loud!
Rain pounds hitting leaves
Dawn arrives as forest breathes
Mist hangs in between
Mushrooms rise, endless
kinds, lift umbrella heads below
Here and there a toad
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee
Peewee’s call slides up and down
Nuthatch trumpet sound
Great blue heron lands
Newts scoot, crayfish hide
Tadpoles wriggle side to side
From flat, sliced globes
White yellow-centered spikes rise
Over green-gold eyes
Salamanders swim
Haphazardly toward brook
Sands shift to deep muck
As dragonflies buzz
Across sun-dappled water
Wind blows, breezes ramble
On filigreed wings
Iridescence announces
Damsel fly’s presence
Pileated drills
Cedar waxwings whistle by
Buzzard soars on high
Clouds wispy, giant, puff
Against blue expansive sky
West to East they fly
Freshwater mussels
Grey-green husks crack open wide
Opal white inside
Fish flit in shallows
At rare moments, a big one
Jumps aloft alone
Waves tumble and lap
Breaking the shore, lying prone
Pine needles and cones
Branches low dipping
Laurels pink blueberries bound
Stones the cove surround
Turtle basks on log
Neck and legs craned to the sun
Painted, wrinkled one
Beaver chew, wet leaves
Mud-tamped dams, sticks, fern fronds
Water fills new ponds
Mown path meanders
Grasses high on either side
On the edge, hawk cries
Flush startled turkey
Jewel weed and goldenrod
Field, seed, plant and pod
On high horizon
Sits Monadnock watching all
Large life towers small
Marylou DiPietro sent this one:
Silent
Journey
Stand by a window
for as long as you are able.
Try to recall
the first time
you looked both ways
before crossing the street.
Or the time you tried,
with all your might,
to put a stop
to eternity.
When asked:
Where are you going,
let only the light
in your eyes
negate the answer.
No one has ever
lived i your dreams.
Forgive the naysayers,
they are the ones
who led Christ
up the hill at Calvary.
At each bend in the river
lose yourself
in the Book of Hours.
Never change horses
in mid-stream.
Be prepared to cull
your stockpile of
forgotten strengths.
Remember,
you once believed
you could dig your way
to China. Be vigilant.
Bring only the essentials.
Repeat after me:
I came into this world
knowing how to swim.
Empty your pockets
of breadcrumbs.
Breathe
Marylou DiPietro
