April Raines' Storybook Corner

Cherry blossoms on my tree
Puffy, pink and small their bloom
Springtime comes to welcome us
Before blossoms start to fall
Splashes decorating hair
Tendrils pink fall past her 'lobes
Cheery colour for springtime

ancreontic poem

Within my ribs is caged a heartache
The emptiness filling and tightening
A muscle of emotion cannot break,
Only squeeze and pound in fruitless longing
To be known, not hidden, but awake
Open to trust those I love with sharing
But now I hold an old bear to my chest,
Blue and squished, well-worn from my caress.

NaPoWriMo happens every April. Hmm, isn't that convenient.

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tantrum subsided
through snuggles and story time
now we go to bed

post-apocalyptic check list

sewing - check
knitting - check
garden - in progress
bike repair - need to learn
canned food - some
water - uhh, in the tap?
sleeping bags - check
tent - very big and heavy
hunting stuff - what? what now?

umm, change that

post-apocalyptic check list
go to Yarrow

Today
I will stop and have a Kashmir tea
I will take a moment to write
I will enjoy the sunshine
I will bake a cake and ice it
I will wear my 'Roots' proudly
I will enjoy my family
I will have a quiet moment just for me

Today
is my day

Food

In several rows with weeds between
I'm trying to grow something green
So that, for once, I will know
Where it came from when it did grow

Air

On this fair step I fall quite short
Too reliant on cars for support
I need to get my ass in gear
So the air I breathe remains clear

Water

It's falling from the sky today
And never seems to go away
One day it might be toxic I heard
The thought seems patently absurd
But I put the feces down the drain
So they don't get washed away with rain

Three things are most vital -
Yet I wonder where they'll be

trapped
with a sleeping baby
no time for shopping

the incessant pitter patter
of rain on my roof
is only slightly quieter
than my daughter's running feet

Once upon a time rising from the grave
was a thing of power, divinity
made flesh. Now it's a thing of horror shows.
Instead of gods showing their power to
worshipping mortal hordes, you get
lessons in the consequences of
unnatural behaviour - not Lazarus,
but Dr. Frankenstein's monster and friends.
"'Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'"
becomes a scream, 'Run for your lives people!'
Not gods putting things right that once went wrong,
but foolish mortals greedy for power.
Once the goddess's husband-son came back,
now bunnies and eggies melt in your mouth.