The Day Spills Open...

The day spills open like a gift unwrapped.

Silence is filled with a bird call chorus.

Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.

Stand in the meadow with me -- closer dear,

Breathe in the piney scent of the forest.

The day spills open like a gift unwrapped.

The pale blue sky, cloudless and clear

Is brushed at the edges with rose and rust.

Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.

Hold your heart wide open without any fear.

Feel it beat calmly, with joy and with trust.

The day spills open like a gift unwrapped.

There will be time, later, to leap like a deer.

Stand quietly now, don't make a fuss.

Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.

The sun kisses dewy grass, erasing its tears.

Drink in the stillness -- this moment for us.

The day spills open like a gift unwrapped,

Let it hold you for a moment enrapt.

This poem was written in response to a prompt by Poetry Tow Truck.  The challenge was twofold.  First, to write a poem using homophones.  The set I chose was "unwrapped" and "enrapt."  The second part of the challenge was to put the poem into a specific form.  I chose to write a villanelle, which is a new form for me. 

Mix and Match small stone

Using a writing prompt from Poetry Tow Truck: Mix and Match clichés,

In the wilting heat

she rode

sturdy as a rose.

Poetry Tow Truck Prompt 21: Line by Line

The prompt this week on the blog Poetry Tow Truck was to write a "line by line" sonnet.  In a nutshell, you maintain the standard structure of a 14 line, 10 syllable per line sonnet but there are requirements for each line.  These range from "line from a song" to "fruit or vegetable."  For a listing of the prompts and more examples, go to the link. 

I also submitted this poem to the Poetry Potluck since it fits with this week's theme of using a song. 



I wasn't at all sure how this was going to go.  I just dove in and traveled along - not ending up where I expected at all.  Challenging, but fun -


Amazing, Grace -- How sweet the sound of
crunchy apples eaten for lunch under
the fruited canopy of orchard trees.
"Pass me a pippin.  I saw one fall with
a thud on the grassy ground over there."
I want to bake a Julian apple
pie; an American Pie, to take in my
Chevy to the levy so the music won't
die.  Raggedy Ann will eat a piece and smile.
Bake a pie.  Fill it with fresh fruit bursting
through the crisp crust, cut by a paring knife
slanting slits slashed so sweet syrup seeps out.
Others strive to keep up with the rat race;
I eat apples and dream with my friend Grace.