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Category Archives: Form poems

sorting photos

sorting photos

long ago, it seems so long ago
all faded now to harvest gold and avocado green
glossy rectangles and squares declare it so

stiff sepia grooms and lacy brides that glow
coiled hair, dark lips, like 20’s starlets from the screen
long ago, it seems so long ago

hosts of people I don’t even know
so many lively smiles, eyes bright with hopeful sheen
glossy rectangles and squares declare it so

Saskatchewan toddler dressed like Eskimo
swaddled in mitts and scarves against the wind so keen
long ago, it seems so long ago

see how Mom made her prairie garden grow
thick marigold, begonia, phlox and climbing bean
glossy rectangles and squares declare it so

we gather with our cousins row on row
even then faces of our adult selves are seen
long ago, it seems so long ago
these glossy rectangles and squares declare it so

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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The Miss Rumphius Effect blog poetry stretch this Monday was to write a poem inspired by a photograph. It reminded me of the poem that I wrote a couple of summers ago, while I was sorting through my Mom’s stash of photos. (I was honored and delighted when “sorting photos” won first prize in the Canadian Stories 2012 Summer Contest this year, and was published the summer edition of the magazine.)

I also wrote a new poem for Trish’s prompt (not yet ready for prime time), as I find photos a never-ending source of inspiration.

This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by the lovely, witty, and multi-talented Renee M. LaTulippe at No Water River.

 
 

Prairie Autumn

Diane’s post about wild geese on Random Noodling last Poetry Friday reminded me of this poem. Are the geese doing their autumn flypast where you live?

This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Diane at Random Noodling

 
16 Comments

Posted by on September 14, 2012 in Concrete, Nature, Poetry Friday

 

beach poems

purple starfishunderwater seaweed crabsbarnacles and mussels**************

We returned home on Tuesday from a wonderful two-week holiday that we spent exploring Salt Spring and Vancouver Islands. What fun it was to hike beach trails, find our way to an artisan bakery and a goat cheese factory, attend the Saturday market, and generally make friends with some beautiful spots on our B.C. coastline.

The photos that are the background to today’s poems were taken on the Booth Bay beach, at the west end of Baker Road on Salt Spring. We happened to hit it at low tide!

This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted by Sylvia Vardell at Poetry For Children.

 
11 Comments

Posted by on August 30, 2012 in Haiga, Nature, Poetry Friday

 

Beach day

Crescent Beach - Surrey, B.C. Canada

Beach day

Sand-warmed
intimate air
drifts sunscreen, hot dogs, kelp
sun-mellowed, anticipating
fireworks

-Violet Nesdoly
***************
I love, love, love summer! Happy summer mornings, afternoons, and evenings to all who read here.

This poem is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.

 
7 Comments

Posted by on July 5, 2012 in Cinquain, People, Poetry Friday

 

Lightning

Photo by Fotolia

Lightning

fluorescent zig-zags
crackles on the radio
my heart skips a beat

fluorescent blue-white
against black-cushion ring box
heaven’s diamond fling

zig-zags prelude bass
rumbles decay to stutters
stillness patters rain

crackles interfere
chamber music percussion
bringing storm inside

on the stately notes
flute, cello and violin
static charges crash

the rain sings snappy
wild snare drum solo tattoo
gurgle gutter song

radio goes dead
blinding flash, deafening crack
plunges into black

my hands grope candles
matches, lighter, a flashlight
circles of warmth here

heart of storm weakens
lightning flashes, thunder waits
not so keen to pounce

skips making response
to lightning’s flick on curtains
dark wins back the night

a break in the rain
only the dripping downspouts
even sighing winds

beat a safe retreat
far-off rumbles in the black
distant lightning sheet

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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I call this an extended haiku but perhaps it isn’t one by an official definition (which I couldn’t find). Anyway, what’s happening here is that each word in the original haiku becomes the beginning word in successive haiku. It’s a fun challenge.

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Paper Tigers.

 
9 Comments

Posted by on June 28, 2012 in Haiku, Nature, Poetry Friday

 

Spring

Spring

Cream-tinted
blossom filigree
a wedding
a party
line dancing with the breeze, I’m
caught under spring’s veil.

- Violet Nesdoly
 
2 Comments

Posted by on April 18, 2012 in Form poems, Nature, Shadorma

 

Cherry blossom time

Cherry trees in bloom - Vancouver, B.C. Canada

Cherry Blossom Time

Pink spring debutantes
ball gown ruffles, froth and lace
cherry trees in bloom

Strawberry milkshakes
line Vancouver avenues
cotton candy hair

Blush cherry petals
one hundred trillion hankies
beckoning the bees

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

*********************

It’s cherry blossom time in Vancouver. The photo above was one I took last year of a street near where my son lives. Every year Vancouver salutes its thousands of blossoming cherry trees with the Cherry Blossom Festival. A haiku contest is part of that festival.  Want to join? Submit a maximum of two haiku here.

As you can see, I’m practising.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on April 7, 2012 in Haiku, Nature

 

Just Before Cock-crow

"The Denial of St. Peter" Jean-Louis Forain

Just Before Cock-Crow

You are his friend from Galilee
I do not, do not know the man
I’m not his friend and not his clan
he really is stranger to me.

You’re dreaming up a fantasy
you little wench with evil plan.
You were with him from Galilee.
On oath, I do not know the man!

Cease and desist your lying spree.
Why do you paint me partisan?
I told you true when we began
swear by each herring in the sea…
You sound like him from Galilee!

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly
************************

This rondel paints a few moments from the story of Passion Week. The account of Peter denying that he even knew Christ, let alone had spent time with Him (Mark 14:66-72) is a cautionary tale to me. I wonder, how would I have reacted in the same circumstance? Do I ever deny Jesus in situations that are far less threatening?

 
3 Comments

Posted by on April 5, 2012 in Form poems, Religious, Rondel

 

April Special

April Special

 (A choose your own ending poem)

Maitre d’ offers a menu of rain
for starters a sprinkle, a spitting, a mist
my glasses are blurry, my hair is damp-kissed
but hors d’oeuvre about which I will not complain.

Wind and cloud waitresses proffer the main
with all-day-long drizzle, deluge and flood
the road is all puddles, the garden all mud
this unending water’s becoming a pain.

Time for dessert course, by now I disdain
the precipitation. Soaking, please stop!
Ah, here comes the sun, through a drip and a drop
a garnish of rainbow, a plip and a plop
just the right mix so that May blooms will pop
please, shower no more till it’s April again.

OR

rescuing me from becoming insane.

OR

bringing an end to this drippy refrain.

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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This is my first poem of my personal National Poetry Month challenge. My goal is to write 21 new poems this month. I will not inflict them all on you, I promise. But I thought I would put up number one just to prove that I have actually made a start.

This poem was inspired by the April Rain prompt at Adele Kenny’s The Music In It blog, where she has posted a prompt and a linked poem for each day in April.

 
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Posted by on April 3, 2012 in Nature, Sonnet

 

Family table

Family Table - Christmas 2011

Family Table

A handsome board in 1944
in clan of furniture they called a suite
our walnut table opened up to more
than eight, the matching chairs had padded seats.

In youthful days it served mountains of food
chicken, potatoes, bread, puddings with cream
then listened to us add and sound out words
cut crafts, and doodle pictures of the farm.

At thirty years it wandered from that place
a vagabond to circumstance it roamed.
It’s old and squeaky now, masks age with lace
lives near sis china cupboard in our home.

Content, I hope, though it has parted ways
with most of clan — like families these days.

© 2011 by Violet Nesdoly
 
3 Comments

Posted by on March 6, 2012 in Personal, Sonnet

 
 
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