L is for Library

This week is National Library Week. Last year, I created a book spine poem from books at my local library. The poem represents what the library means to me.

Brink of Chaos
The Great Escape
Gateways
Haven

I could spend all day in a library. After my senior year of high school I spent the summer working at a library as a page. I confess, I wasn’t the best employee. I was too distracted by the books. It’s not the most efficient to stop and flip the pages of a book while shelving. I’d love to work in a library again. I truly do love the atmosphere.

In honor of both library week and poetry month, I have written another poem.

My Second Home

The library was my first love
perfect for a book-a-holic,
no budget could sustain my obsession.

A sacred space filled with treasures;
fingers trail on book spines…
so many choices
each one a new adventure--
Do I read an author tried and true?
or experience something new?

Some days I come
not for the books
but the atmosphere.

Sit back in an armchair
wrapped in hushed air,
soak in the rich love of words
infused between these walls,
let it inspire me…
flow through my fingertips
to fill the pages of my notebook.

K is for Key

I love keys. So it is no wonder that is the 'K' word I gravitated to today.

Puerta de entrada al pasado / Entrance door to the past (Photo credit: NeoGaboX)

The Key's Mystery

The key itself is simple

rusted iron on woven cord

without its lock

it is nothing

It may open a chest

left hidden by pirates

or unlock a gate

to an alien world

Perhaps it locks

a mermaid's diary

or the chains that bind

a wolf at full moon

It could be the key

to a dungeon cell

or the way to unlock

a damsel's heart

Most likely it matched

a plain house door

but until the lock is found

it holds everything to me

J is for Jackalope

collageOrama's Etsy shop

A jackalope is a jack rabbit with antlers (jack rabbit + antelope). A group of jackalope is called a flaggerdoot.

Jackalope

The jackalope hops o'er the hills
aware as the hare
regal as the deer
it skirts the desert towns
rarely seen but sometimes heard
singing with its flaggerdoot
echoes woven from our own songs
as the thunder rolls above

I is for Imagination

Finite Cyclic Groups (Photo credit: derekbruff)

"Imagination is more important than knowledge." 

~Albert Einstein

Daydream

Voices drone around me

Equations drip from the blackboard

Numbers sizzle into puddles of data

Letters, once unknown values,

Dance away to reform

Into glorious words

Words stretch and morph

Into dragons

Which fly me away 

from this dull room

H is for Hero

Two hero poems for you today, from my vault. A different view of your traditional hero.

Hero’s Journey

A magical quest

journey for the talisman

a clichéd hero

To Be a Hero?

A youth seeking guidance

kneels before the village matron.

She rests her withered hand

atop the boy's bowed head

"We found you in the woods --

a babe crying alone.

You welcomed our embrace

And we gave you a home.

Now your growing hands

ask for a sword;

your growing feet

wish to wander.

Dear child,

sometimes it's better not to question.

Knowledge may be power,

but the answers may distort your view.

If you pursue destiny

through the twilight forest,

you leave inexperienced, exposed

for destruction at your rival's whim.

Take heed to your elder now.

Don't take that first step 

to see the wizard;

once that path is chosen, you cannot return.

Embrace the life you have --

leave the world to its own devices."

And the boy lifts his head

to see this village, his home,

wondering if his purpose

is greater than self,

and decides if it is enough.

G is for Green

As some of you may know, I have a series of color poems. Maybe someday there will be enough to stand as a collection of their own. You can read "Yellow's Blessing" and "The Warmth of Orange" in the anthology Lifelines. "Seeping Gray," "Whetted Steel," and "Black's Embrace" will be in my upcoming poetry book Chiaroscuro. And to celebrate the letter "G" today, here is my Green poem.

Unfurling so many ways (Photo credit: sbisson)

Green Unfurls

the smell of fresh-cut grass
stretching yoga poses
a breath of fresh air after smog
surprise at the touch of a frog, smooth not slimy
green apple shampoo massaged into my scalp
the taste of a kiwi
mint ice-cream
Bob Ross and his happy trees
smack, run, cheer, baseball
the snap of green beans
ruins, hidden in moss and vines
willow leaves, dripping, waving

F is for Fairies and Fudge

Vegan Chocolate Fudge. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Fairy Fudge

the fairies left a gift for me

outside my bedroom door

a single square of darkest fudge

you won't find in a store

pixie dust like little stars

glinting from its core

it carries whiffs of oak

soaked in a downpour

I take a bite, close my eyes

relish tastes galore

cocoa rivers carry me

to exotic shore

magic bursts through my veins

my feet lift off the floor

wings curl from my shoulders

leaving muscles sore

I shrink down to inches high

needing clothes no more

wrapped only in morning light

out the door I soar

by Mary W. Jensen