Welcome to our 38th Poetry Party!
I select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your poems or other reflections. Add them in the comments section and a link to your blog (if you have one). Make sure to check the comments for new poems added and I encourage you to leave encouraging comments for each other either here or at the poet’s own blog.
Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog if you have one and encourage others to come join the party! (permission is granted to reprint the image if a link is provided back to this post)
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Poetry Party Theme: Summer’s Sweet Slowness
The other day I posted a list on my blog of things whose sweetness should be savored slowly on summer days. I invited you to make your own additions to the list and I really enjoyed reading them. So this Poetry Party is an extension of that theme. This week it will be in the mid-nineties and sunny here in Seattle, very unusual weather for us, weather that demands we all slow down and savor the height of summer days. Summer’s invitation is to linger and and notice the beauty in small things.
If you contributed to the previous list already consider turning it into a poem. Everyone is invited to create their own Ode to Summer’s Gifts!
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© Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts:
Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts
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32 Responses
Check out my poem entry on my blog. Thank you for a wonderful prompt!
Grady – Everything about your poem resonates with me and it is hard to pick a favorite verse….there’s the one about ‘long talks about the [wife] of my youth – about nothing and everything, things great and small’….and I am particularly drawn to a bit of the summary: ‘These are the things that time should not mar – Hurry should be kept at distance – afar’.
Thanks for this offfering.
Icy drinks
with peaches or berries
slowly cooling and refreshing
as I swallow
Cool mountain streams
surrounded by evergreen
feet dangling
in the burbling, noisy water
Surf – rushing
in haste to conquer gravity
then being pulled back to its bed,
taking sand and pebbles with it
Fresh corn,
still on the cob
dripping with sweet juices
and melted butter
Children
playing frisbee or softball or soccer
running, laughing,
secure in their abandonment to joy
Faces
of friends and family
smudged
by traces of BBQ sauce or watermelon juice
Long talks
with the wife of my youth
about nothing and everything,
things great and small
These are the things
that time should not mar
Hurry should be kept
at distance – afar
Dripping like fruit juice
from cheek and from chin
steeped in the sweetness
taking it in
ooops, it was late and I looked at the words “summer’s sweet slowness” but not the picture. I think my poem suits the words, but definitely not the photo.
Hmm, Christine if you think it’s appropriate I’ll post, but as for now I’ll use this handy hideout as eros drifts through:
LET ME BE THE BREEZE
Summer Sweetness
Dressed in my glossy red coat
adorned with perfect black dots,
I tip a feeler into the warm summer air.
Ahhh.
The bark feels cool and
safe beneath my bare feet.
Perfect for a slow stroll
on a summer day.
Shall I stick close to home or
spread my wings and fly?
The world offers much to explore.
Hmmm.
Which outlook will I prefer today–
comfy barkside view or
daring aerial vista?
Summer sweetness beckons.
SLOW, SWEET, SUMMER, Part II
by Sei Shonagon (Japanese court lady, b. ca. 965)
from The Pillow Book, # 122, tr. by Ivan Morris
___ ___ ___
In the Fifth Month [July], I love going up to a mountain village.
When one passes a marsh on the way, a thick covering of weeds hides the water and it seems like a stretch of green grass;
but as the escorts walk across these patches the water spurts up under their feet though it is quite shallow.
The water is incredibly clear and looks very pretty as it gushes forth.
When the road runs between the hedges, a branch will sometimes thrust its way into the carriage.
One snatches at it quickly, hoping to break it off;
alas, it always slips out of one’s hand.
Sometimes one’s carriage will pass over a branch of sagebrush, which then gets caught in the wheel, and is lifted up at each turn, letting the passengers breathe its delicious scent.
___ ___ ___
Circles within circles,
unending joy….
Reflect the light,
Crawl slowly over life’s terrain.
Even when feeling miniscule
there is the possibility of flight.
we gather on the porch at dusk
ready to shell the peas we’ve picked
settling into rocking chairs and
scooping handfuls of slender goodness into piles
on the newspaper-covered table before us
we set about our sacred task
with four heads bowed low
over white enamel bowls trimmed in red
the gentle murmur of pleasant conversation
combines with the steady hum of the slowly oscillating fan
sounding like prayers at evensong
as we intuitively finger our tiny green rosary beads
warmth makes lids heavy
the book drops onto her chest
napping on the porch