
Church bells of bronze
Ring to the campanologists’ beat
Familiar rhythms in the morning
Announcing that it’s time to meet
Calling the faithful to worship
A breath of fresh air sweet
Padre
Church bells of bronze
Ring to the campanologists’ beat
Familiar rhythms in the morning
Announcing that it’s time to meet
Calling the faithful to worship
A breath of fresh air sweet
Padre
The inchworm passes in a green flash upon eternity’s pages
Padre
Monostich and Paint Chips: inchworm and green flash
In dappled sunlight
The gargoyle gagged on spinach
In a dumpling baked
A new leaf of which was caught
On the tip of the beast’s tongue
The paint chip words and phrases you have to choose from are ivory, tip of the tongue, dappled sunlight, spinach, new leaf, gargoyle, and dumpling.
Padre
The day approaches in which to give thanks
To the one who gave me nuture
And into the world – me carried
You were the very dawn of my life,
Who cared and cuddled
And for me did shed tears
And in my tender years held me close
Your heartbeat in my trusting ears
You were the full moon of my fledgling days
And though by others – as I grew –
My affections were thereby eclipsed
But you remain forever my mother
The measure of all women
Whose orbit I shall never forsake
Padre
The paint chip words and phrases that I used: dawn, heartbeat, full moon.
Some fear the habanero flames of a sulphur realm below
But cling with all their might to the quicksand mud that around them flows
They see above then the azure sky of day
But the indigo curtain of night fills them with dismay
Pins and needles fill their souls if the word death is but for an instant on the lips
They would rather into the hurricane gale trod
Than enter the gentle breezy space, beyond the pearly gates of God
Padre
pearly gates, habanero, mud, pins and needles, breezy, quicksand, and indigo.
Brackish water stagnant lays
Mosquitoes buzz overhead in waves
The swamp mud sucks upon our boots
As we strive the humid cauldron wade
Our path unmarked and known by few
As we skirt the foul smelling marsh and bayou
Padre
I travel down the garden path
The memory lane of my childhood’s making
Trodding o’er the stepping stones
Between Grandma’s hydrangeas
The path seems shorter now
Than when I was six or eight
I remember it having taken longer then
To reach the garden gate
The old swing seems much too small
How could I have ever fit it?
But my heart still fills with joy
As I recollect my youthful visits
Padre
Paint Chip Poetry Free Write: stepping stone, grandma’s hydrangeas
I journey out among the fields
To where the barley saffron-gold does grow
And place a battered cap upon the head
Of Howard, the old straw scarecrow
I gaze upon the meadow verge
Dotted with poppies and forget-me-nots
And remember back to the Spring
When all was the fresh green of a sprig of mint
And I ponder the the toil of the ploughing past
With the both man and horses lathered
In the sea foam of their sweat
Labour again shall soon return to this field serene
For harvest shall soon be at hand
As seasons turn
And the moon walks through her phases
Against heaven’s sable screen
Padre
Idyll Paint Chip Poetry Prompt:
“The paint chip words and phrases you have to work with are sprig of mint, moon walk, waterfall, scarecrow, sea foam, saffron, and forget-me-not. . . use at least five of these words and phrases in your idyll.”
There were many aspects of the Philippines that gave the impression of a tropical paradise. There was dense greenery, and bright sunshine which seemed to hit its peak daily before the afternoon rain. After duty hours there was the nightlife, which all too often led to making our way back to base in the dark. Some of the features which still feature in a carved desk set of mine were the mountain peaks, one of which was the ill-fated Mount Pinatubo.
Tropical green peak
Volcanic supernova
Brought the mountain low
Padre
Haibun Paint Chip Poetry Prompt
I served in the Philippines about a decade before the eruption, but the desk set with the mountains is a real thing.
A raven caws from the barren branch
As cold grey clouds shadow the frozen mud
No seedlings yet emerge from this snow day‘s
Bleak landscape, as we huddle by the campfire
As bright as safety orange in the dull winter world
Padre
snow day, safety orange, campfire, seedling, raven, mud, and shadow.