Tag: nature

Walk in the Park

Walk in the Park

I walked that I might breathe
Each inhalation pushing the oxygen
Up to my brain until my head cleared
and normalcy returned
Every step taking me further away
from the source of my discontent
I absorbed the surroundings
Following the bend in the river
A gentle susurrus shook
The weeping willow blossoms
Sunlight disappeared beyond the treeline
as dusk staked its claim on the day
From the corner of my eye
a scintilla of light flashed
to the left, then the right
Fireflies shining in the twilight
Glowing on and off
Teasing the viewer
tempted to catch them
It was then I knew
I had found my querencia
My safe place of peace
Where my equilibrium could return
Stopping to wonder at the light show
I rested a while, thankful for the sojourn



Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Mish is hosting Tuesday Poetics at D’Verse and has prompted us with unusual words that have been finding their way into our everyday language. We are to use three of her suggestions in our poem.  I chose Susurrus, Scintilla and Querencia.  You will find
their meanings on the D’Verse link along with the others available.

Good Morning – A Quadrille

Good Morning

Sleep slinked away like a thief in the night
In the wee hours of the morning
countless sheep filled a head
waiting for dawn to break
With it came brightness and clarity
A palette of blazing orange
with whisps of grey brushing the sky



Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Linda Lee Lyberg is hosting Monday Quadrille at D'Verse.  She has
promoted us with "Morning"
A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding the title

Image by marion beraudias from Pixabay 

The Dog Days of Summer

The Dog Days of Summer

The Summer began in early Spring this year
Bringing merciless heat scorching body and earth
Cranking air conditioners and spinning fans
Beaches and pools crowded with souls
Searching for cooling comfort
The solstice came and went
and the arrival of rainy season gifted relief
As it slipped into its seasonal pattern
Now deep into August the sky is full
Moving clusters of cumulus clouds
Drape themselves across the blue-grey expanse
Emptying in intervals
With thirty second rain showers
Now you see them, now you don’t
Pouring on one side of the street,
Not the other
The sun peeking in between
Painting her rainbows
And as darkness falls mosquitoes come to life
Sending their targets scurrying
for the cover of citronella
Heat lightning glows red in the night sky
And thunder’s drum roll announces its presence


Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved



August in Florida is God's way of reminding us who's in charge. -- Blaize Clement

Mish is hosting Open Link Night at D'Verse. This poem is in response to Sanaa's
prompt of The Month of August from Thursday night's D'Verse. I was running too late to post it!

Blood On Our Hands

Blood On Our Hands

The smooth sands of a silent desert
now a windstorm of grit burrowing
into every orifice
Blinding and scratching eyes
Tasting and choking on the bitterness
of unannounced fury


The still waters of windless waves
become a raging, angry ocean
Swallowing the body whole
and regurgitating denialism
with each turbulent flow
of rampant wrath 


A forest, green and succulent
succumbing to heated, fiery ire
Crackling coniferous and deciduous woodland
Consuming beauty in a violent blaze
The tears of this earth become
blood on our hands



Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved


Prompts

D’Verse - Open Link Night Hosted by Lillian
Earthweal - Open Link Weekend

At Peace – Poem of the Month – June 2022

At Peace

With nothing but my own thoughts
to keep me company
I sit in silence
Tendrils of light are streaming
through the trees, captivating
my imagination and inspiring my muse
Losing myself in wonder I allow
these moments to dream, ignoring 
what I think must be done
When still, I understand the process
Nature is drawing me back 
balancing my weary mind
reminding me to breathe deep
and to cease the constant motion
if only for moments
That I might repair body and soul
Without which I am of little use


Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Bjorn is hosting Open Link Night at D’Verse

At First Light

At First Light

At first light the rolling fog
Sits perched just above the tide
Hovering, unmoved by the sea below
A tiny crab disappears
into its hidey hole in the sand
Shells scattered like confetti
waiting to be bleached by the
morning sun, yet to show its face
Mine the only footprints to mark
their presence on the pristine beach
Soon to be crowded with bodies
lined up like sardines in a can
smothered in oil
These silent moments alone
Precious and priceless


Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved

Sarah is hosting D'Verse Poets and gave us some fascinating prompt words
that are actually names of paints.  Here is the list:
* Trumpet
* Tea with Florence
* Chemise
* Confetti
* Goblin
* Mirror
* Rolling fog
* First light
* Hidey hole
* Masquerade
We were to choose one or more to inspire our poem. I chose four:
First light, confetti, rolling fog and hidey hole.

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