More poems for Promptly Poetry |
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Prompt: (verb) to move to action Promptly: (adverb) : very quickly or immediately Poetry: a form of writing that no one ever reads |
| I had a year, no reason to fear. I’ve done this five no, six times before. I can write more. Or so I thought, until writer’s block hit like a rock. My brain balked my muse took a walk. A haze veiled my mind I was falling behind. With a guilty blush I started to rush - a windmill of words arranged in a blur. The weeks just flew I’m at fifty-two! This poem’s sending is my happy ending, Until next year. Promptly Poetry write about a happy ending |
| It’s the reason I go to sleep at night, My last thought as I turn out the light, A dream of my morning’s delight, Oh how the thought invites! I hear the brew bubbling up, And cannot wait to fill my cup, With the potion rich and dark, Starting the day with a caffeine spark. It’s the moment that brings me alive, Has me humming the Java Jive, The morning coffee that keeps me snappy Yes! every sip makes me happy. Promptly Poetry Week 51 A moment when you felt happy |
| There are good days ahead My mother said So don’t despair or cry Just hold your head up high Bad days will come With rain and storms So keep the ammo dry And hold your head up high You’ll find along life’s way your share of good and bad days But it’s harder to be strong When a day is simply wrong A day that makes you cry and you can find no reason why All you can do is try To keep your head held high Promptly Poetry Week 50 The wrong day |
| The vitamin bottles stare at me as if they could prompt me to take them I’ve pushed them back behind a fence of wires and cables that cannot be untangled or the phone will not charge and the monitor will go dark. Connectivity is more urgent than health evidenced by the extra large mug of coffee used to wash down the ibuprofen kept beside the pot for convenience. Still, I wonder what is contained in the bottles that are hidden beneath the plaid fur-lined hat not worn since the girl was in middle school and yet more than a decade later has come to rest on my desk? It will probably never be thrown away Like the vitamins, I might decide to use it one day. Promptly Poetry Week 49 Write a poem listing and connecting mundane objects around you. Consider how you interact with them, and how they interact with each other. |
| A thousand ways to cook chicken How to build a coffee table Swashbucking adventures and outgrown fairytales Stories of heroes from long ago Learn French in Thirty Days What every new mother needs to know Villains that make your blood run cold Shelves of knowledge covered in dust Waiting to be opened again The dusty old bookseller sits alone And writes poems about the rain. \ Promptly Poetry Week 48 Image of a old book shop |
It’s the flame in the sunrise, igniting the horizon defying the heavy skies. It’s the flushed cheeks of midday, the rouged and ruddy afternoon arguing for relief. It’s the embers of the day, the coals glowing warmly remembering the fire’s passion. It’s the conflagration of creation, celestial gases burning brightly millions of years before I laid my head down to dream. Prompt/Week # 47 Write a color poem. The poem could be about a specific color or a wide spectrum of colors. Or you could just mention a color in passing. Or you could include a color in your poem's title and go from there |
| Every day gravity grows stronger, pulls me closer to its center When I was young and full of resistance to rules I defied it, I flew up to the branches of the trees I ran faster than time, it could not overtake me It had to trip me to take me down But gravity could not hold me and I got back up Now I’m falling and I can’t get up I’m tired of bending down, too tired to straighten up I blame Newton and his unfair laws Maybe gravity is like original sin Our downfall tied to an apple and forbidden knowledge Our minds expand but our bodies are closed systems Entropy steals a little autonomy year by year I drop a little more of my world every day Sometimes I just leave it behind, watch it roll away Now I’m falling and I can’t get up And Father Time is a tricky fellow I blame Einstein and all his relatives Time slips by, we try not to notice Until it sneaks up on us in an overwhelming rush of nostalgia And the clock ticks on in the dark hours As if it were the heart of the night Now I’m falling and I can’t get up Written for Promptly Poetry week 46 The Bop 3 stanzas Each stanza is followed by a refrain First stanza is 6 lines long and presents a problem Second stanza is 8 lines long and explores or expands the problem Third stanza is 6 lines long, and either presents a solution or documents the failed attempt to resolve the problem. |
| When the cup of life is empty cracked and stained by the years, having once held joy, having caught many tears. When the dregs of your days and their memories are swirled, they mix with loneliness and the fear in the world. When you feel despondent, and you want to give up, God will hear your prayers, and send His love to fill your cup. PPC6 "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" Prompt/Week # 45 Working title: The World Cup Don't think soccer/football, sports, etc. Think outside of the box! |
| I awake to music in the trees Cheerful notes, joyous chirping a throng of songs in an ordinary morning “Here,” they sing “See the dew on the grass, feel the sun upon your back and sing to God -- for He has provided both the Sun and the rain, the seed and the flower. Even the worm has poked out his head to celebrate life.” Written for "Promptly Poetry" Week 44 Prompt - the magic of an ordinary day |
| Layers of snowfall, pure, immaculate. Crooked twigs, brown, cotton-tipped. Deepest green, in brush-stroke lines. Soft and hopeful, is life in the pine. And on this branch,. a crimson daub The heart of winter, a steady throb. He wears his crest, as king of all, and whistles a greeting, my Christmas cardinal. Written for Promptly Poetry Week 43 Prompt = cardinal |