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Note to Spring

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Photo © 2017 by V. Nesdoly

Note to Spring

The monsoons of March
with their downpours and douses
are greening the sides
of the fences and houses.

Yes, we love green   (it is St. Paddy’s Day, after all!)
but we’re eager for more
colors to brighten
the outdoor decor.

Purple and yellow
red, blue, pink, and white
we’re longing to find
in the lengthening light.

Please don’t delay,
feeling bound by the date.
The welcome mat’s out, Spring,
we’ve unlatched the gate!

© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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Goodies on display at Scoop ‘n’ Save – Langley, BC.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by the incredibly talented Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge.

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 17, 2017 in Nature, Poetry Friday

 

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Seasonal haiku

Though right now I’m giving my main attention to another writing project, daily walks still inspire haiku-length ditties. Experience the season with me…

black-gangrenous-snow

Back gangrenous snow
approves bitter new day clenched
in freezing’s headlock.

frigid-morning

Frigid morning—still
Winter’s hit the snooze button
while we watch for Spring.

white-quilt-melted

(Photos © 2017 by V. Nesdoly)

White quilt melted.
Cover’s off for all to see
baby-Spring pink.

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Poetry Friday LogoThis post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Carol at her Beyond Literacy Link blog. As usual, there’s a wonderful variety of poetry and poetry-related fare available there!

 
32 Comments

Posted by on January 27, 2017 in Haiga, Haiku, Poetry Friday

 

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Warm-up

Warm-up

The robins lilt
the blackbirds trill
from little sparrow’s
open bill

an aria
so sweet and round.
(how can that wee bird
make such sound?)

From somewhere high
the flicker drums
with rat-tat-tat
the forest thrums

The ducks afraid
of our bold pets
alarm their alto
clarinets

Steller’s jays rasp
the Kelp Gulls shriek
Blue Heron fishing
in the creek

mute audience
to warm-up glee
of spring’s sweet avian
symphony.

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of morning birdsong. Even on the dullest days their calls brighten our walk. They’re especially melodic on the section of path that follows the creek. Listening to them every morning is the perfect way to get tuned up for the day!

PF-2This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Carol in her Poetry Garden at Beyond Literacy blog.

 

 
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Posted by on June 9, 2016 in Nature, Poetry Friday

 

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Un-Hallmark Mother

Un-Hallmark Mother

While I gifted icon carnations
and Hallmark lines, “Mother” to me
smelled of duty and mothball wisdom.
She my root of conscience, scruple

permission to pursue the chaotic
then, like her, to sort and label.
I lived for her sideways compliments
overheard in conversations with her friends.

Her widow-grief broke down walls:
She was fellow-woman.
Our friendship rooted, blossomed—
she was always so good with flowers.

At the end when she needed help
even to get dressed
my heart pinged for her
like she was one of my kids.

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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Store-bought cards do express a sweet dimension of motherhood, but the real thing is always much more complex. I would be lying if I said my relationship with my mom was all good. We clashed sometimes during my teen years—and beyond. But we worked through our rough spots and became more than friends. It was a relationship that changed with the times and seasons. Mom died ten years ago this June. Does a daughter ever get over not having her mom around?

The photos are of one of our last outings in May 2006. Hubby and I drove her down to White Rock Beach, took her out for lunch, walked to the bear statue at the end of the path, went to the end of the pier, and posed her under the spring blossoms she loved so much.

Poetry Friday LogoThis post is linked to Poetry Friday hosted today by Sylvia Vardell at her blog Poetry for Children.

 
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Posted by on May 5, 2016 in Personal, Poetry Friday

 

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Wild Rose Roundabout (NPM ’16-Day 29)

Wild Rose Roundabout

I unfurl my face to you—
now that it’s almost May.
It was a juicy April
with lots of wet-root days.
To January and February’s sparrows and chickadees
my shriveled red ancestors were food.
Leaves paled and lost their grip
driven crazy by November’s gales.
Ripening in August heat,
hard green hips blushed.
It was a May ago
my forbears smiled their last on you.

My forbears smiled their last on you—
it was a May ago.
Hard green hips blushed,
ripening in August heat.
Driven crazy by November’s gales
leaves paled and lost their grip.
My shriveled red ancestors were food
to January and February’s sparrows and chickadees.
With lots of wet-root days
it was a juicy April.
Now that it’s almost May
I unfurl my face to you.

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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The April 28th prompt at NaPoWriMo was to write a story poem—backwards. We saw the first wild rose blossoms on our walk yesterday morning, roses were on my mind, so I decided to write a wild rose story.

The challenge to write a Reverso poem (a poem in which the lines are reversed bottom to top, making a second stanza or an entirely new poem) has also been circulating around the Poetry Friday network. So I tinkered with my story until it worked as a Reverso poem of sorts.

However, there is at least one aspect of a Reverso that my poem doesn’t satisfy. In a genuine Reverso, the meaning changes when you change directions. I know I have not achieved that.

 

 
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Posted by on April 29, 2016 in Form poems, Nature, Objects

 

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Solomon’s Seal (NPM ’16-Day 24)

Solomon’s Seal

lacy petticoat
green leaves bower leggy height
cure for many ills

texture complements
pieris, hostas, roses
salve for green-starved eyes

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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My sister gave me a Solomon’s Seal plant about a year ago. It did well. But when it came up this spring,  I had forgotten all about it and it took me a while to figure out what it was. Then I saw the telltale row of flowers under the leaves—so different from any other plant I’ve ever seen—and I remembered.

Solomon’s Seal has a reputation for being quite a healer. Ancients ground its roots to powder to made it into tea for stomach ailments, combined it with lard to smooth over bruised and freckled skin, expected it to aid in the healing of broken bones, hemorrhoids, and tumors. Despite its poisonous leaves and berries, it was credited with being a virtual medicine cabinet in one plant! Read more about it HERE.

I’m quite content to let it do its healing from a distance, with its beauty.

 
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Posted by on April 24, 2016 in Haiku, Nature, Objects, Personal

 

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Tax Time (NPM ’16-Day 22)

tax-consultant-1050826_640

Tax Time

Number crunches
reconciliations…
what I need when I must do my
taxes.

Quicken
holds my numbers
generates report for
neighbourhood accountant—tax time
good friend.

Boxes
all filled in right?
Have faith in tax person.
Rebate in bank account proves we’re
all done!

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

Photo: Pixabay.com

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2016 in Cinquain, Form poems, Personal

 

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