Celebrating National Poetry Month: #5: Near the Window

If you are just joined me this month I am celebrating National Poetry month by posted an orginal poem I have written each day.

Near the Window

The lamp near the window glowed long into the night,
the wonder of words kept me turning the pages.
Curling up with Nancy Drew, Bess, and George
creating a life of intrigue and mysteries to be solved.
Finding poetry at the public library and saving words
as I hunted and pecked on the manual keys.

The stereo filled the hall room with beautiful sounds.
I wore out certain songs as I listened again and again.
I joined the Broadway cast of My Fair Lady and Oklahoma too,
and The Ray Conniff singers backed
me up on Somewhere My Love.
How many times could I repeat Three Dog Night
singing One
While belting out the lyrics with a makeshift microphone?

Near the window I could breathe in spring,
In winter the panes frosted, then melted in a thaw.
If opened in summer a breeze gave a small reprieve,
Burning leaves crept in at the closing of fall.

The neighbor kids gathered for Kick the Can
or Spoons, but
I cocooned myself in my bedroom upstairs.
Finding comfort near the window with my pile of books.

Broadway filled the room, images from poems remained.
I still carry the words and can recite the lyrical lines,
and l hear those melodies when I
sit near the window in my childhood room.


by inlandempiregirl, november 2007

Celebrating National Poetry Month: #4: Familiar Phrases

Familiar Phrases

"For crying out loud" has a familiar ring.
As pans banged on the stove
Mother's wonderings arose above the whir of the washer.
Did you lick those beaters and put them back in the dough?
Did you sterilize that needle before removing that sliver?
Did you wipe your boots before walking on these floors?
Did you spray the huckleberry stains on your new shirt?

"Better safe than sorry" is the warning
that clacks around in my head.
Don't get close to the cliff…you might fall off,
Go gargle with salt water... you may lose your voice,
Spin slowly so you don't end up sick,
Cradle your sister's head when you pick her up.

Around the corner by the orchard my car
left the snowy road
spinning around to again face north.
Her voice was a whisper I heard in my ear,
" Don't ever drive when the roads are slick."

by inlandempiregirl

Celebrating National Poetry Month: #3: Woman Who Loves Gardening

Woman Who Loves Gardening

I have dirty nails
and rarely paint them, living out
my long growing season in the flower garden, trellises
giving view to clematis, climbing Peace
where aromatic flowers
grow in profusion.
I pull the weeds
in the early morning
gritting my teeth
wiping sweat from my brow
and listening
to footsteps of my husband
coming in range to help.
Sun makes my face red;
each sniff with my nose
leaves lily pollen behind.
When I rest it’s the beauty
that causes anxiety to shake loose
from a woman in need
of a quiet place to retreat.

inlandempiregirl
June 20,2007

Snowstorm on April 2nd: A Winter for the Record Books!

Perhaps I should say a winter/spring for the record books! I caught these pictures early this morning before I went back to bed, pulled the covers over my head and hoped when I awoke it would all be a dream. I think it snowed about 3 1/2 inches.

Celebrating National Poetry Month: #2: Oh Northern Idaho!

one from the archives

Oh Northern Idaho!

Esto Perpetua

We

toured in the old, red impala on U.S. 10

from Fourth of July Canyon to Cavendish Grade,

Kootenai, Benewah, Latah, Clearwater

Boundary, Bonner, Shoshone, Nez Perce.

Cruised past rolling hills, cold rivers, wild huckleberries, pine.

Caught cutthroat trout, bass, perch, pike, and salmon.

Attempted rafting along the Lochsa, Snake, and Selway.

Harvested Austrian winter peas, lentils, camas root.

Mined silver, gold, lead, phosphorus, and dug new star garnets.

Spotted the yellowjackets, horseflies, junebugs, wasps.

Honored Julia Jean Mildred Francis Turner a.k.a. Lana Turner.

Practiced the square dance, rain dance, owl dance, jingle dance.

Found syringa, mountain bluebird, Cataldo Mission, Appaloosa.

by inlandempiregirl July 2006

Celebrating National Poetry Month: Poem #1: Filling the Vase

from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufock by T.S. Eliot

"Inaugurated by the Academy in April 1996, National Poetry Month (NPM) brings together publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools, and poets around the country to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events.Inaugurated by the Academy in April 1996, National Poetry Month (NPM) brings together publishers, booksellers, literary organizations, libraries, schools, and poets around the country to celebrate poetry and its vital place in American culture. Thousands of businesses and non-profit organizations participate through readings, festivals, book displays, workshops, and other events." To learn more about National Poetry Month and a whole lot of other valuable information about poetry go to www.poets.org .

This is my third year of celebrating National Poetry Month on this blog. If you want to see the diverse collection of sixty poems I chose the last two years, check my archives under April 2007 and 2008. This year I am going to do things a bit differently. I have been inspired by numerous bloggers that post original poetry on an ongoing basis. I am constantly posting poetry, but not my own very often. This month I plan to post an original poem each day. Some are from the archives, some have been written long ago, and others will be new. I am also going to participate in the NaPoWriMo at www.poets. org. This is an adaption of the National Novel Writing Month contest.

When my brother was our visiting writer at our annual writing retreat last summer, I composed this poem based on one of his exercises:

Filling the Vase

Writing is wandering through the
garden path harvesting morning flowers.
Gathering leaves, finding fillers,
snipping blossoms as they begin to open.
Pausing to reflect and even observe
while paying attention to the smells.

Gold, chartreuse, and deep purple become the wondrous words,
thorny stems phrases cut too deep.
The combination of textures sort the sentence variety
over powered by the sweet scent of similes.

The violet vase is the vessel of form
Aligning the sentences, arranging the words,
Taming texture with attention to audience.

Place the bouquet on the farmhouse table,
or away for a spell to let the contents settle.

inlandempiregirl June 24, 2008