Stepping Away

We never need to fear
the need to step away,
and drop the loads we carry
as our energy begins to sway.

We don’t need to fear our silence
when we want a moment’s peace,
to feed our listless mind and body
and grab a bite to eat.

Rest is not a sign of weakness
because it keeps us strong.
Like the winters on a river
and it’s crunchy frozen top.

Sometimes a shift is needed
to reveal what’s coming next,
as all the steps we’ve taken
created all our strength.

Dr. Deb

Prose & Poetry

While prose is writing, poetry adds artistic style to writing.  Poetry writers tend to select their structure, rhyme scheme, pattern, and words with the purpose of arousing emotion. Rather than sentences and paragraphs, poetry uses lines, stanzas, verses, meter, stress, patterns, and rhyme.

Poetry comes in several different forms, but the common types of poetry include:

  • Sonnets – lyrical poetry with a 14-line arrangement
  • Haiku – traditional Japanese poetry
  • Acrostic – mixes letters and phrases
  • Free Verse – no set meter
  • Epic – from oral traditions
  • Rhymed – creates specific rhyme pattern
  • Descriptive – uses descriptive language to express a message
  • Narrative – tells a story

Here’s a list:

Prose Poetry
Written in sentences and paragraphs Written in lines and stanzas
Normal language patterns Artistic language to express thoughts and emotions
No limit on words Word limits
Doesn’t use a rhyme scheme or rhythm Can include rhyme and rhythm
Easy to understand Can take dissecting the words to understand the meaning
May or may not be used creatively Used creatively and artistically

So, now we all know how to write our prose and poetry!  Back to my poetry . . .

Dr. Deb

Glass Bottled Ego

When we crush the bottle of
uncaged ego, and the
pieces are thrown away . . .

We’ll step into the forest,
full of shiver, cold, and fright,
while the moon awaits the morning’s light . . .

Fearlessness rushes in,
passion filling heart and soul
to finally let all old things fall  . . .

. . . and once again begin a dance of glee  . . .

Dr. Deb

Friend of the Children

When children are playing alone on the green,
in comes the playmate that never is seen.
When children are sad, lonely, or good,
The Friend of the Children comes out of the wood.

Nobody has heard him, and nobody can say,
If he is a picture that a kid may have drawn,
But he’s sure to be present, abroad or at home.

When children are happy and playing along,
He lays in the laurels; he runs in the grass,
He sings when you tinkle a musical glass;

Whenever you’re happy and cannot tell why,
The Friend of the Children has surely gone by!
‘Tis he, when at night you go off to your bed,
That bids you sleep and not trouble your head;

For wherever they’re laying, in cupboards or shelves,
‘Tis he who takes care of your play-things himself!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I wrote that in 5th grade . . . hope none of you readers
are laughing too hard!!!

Dr. Deb

One Red Leaf

From breakfast on through all the day,
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad,
Afar into the land of Nod.

All by myself I must go,
With none to tell me yes or no.
To lounge beside a lazy stream,
In the mountains where I dream.

The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see.
And many frightening sights abroad,
‘Till morning wakes the Land of Nod.

Try as I like to find the way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor remember plain and clear
The curious music I always hear.

Sleepy dreams of falling leaves,
Awakes the sun to my relief.
I look below in disbelief,
The beauty of the one red leaf.

Dr. Deb

High Upon Your Saddle

Love the work you do, wearing the best shoes you can afford
Seek to know bees do sting and ghosts will haunt,
While the masters rarely surround themselves with illusion
For everyone is an optimal mix of both vision and fact.

Know labor is a value and learning a value of delight
Bridge yourself with loyal strength and passion,
Watch times breadth and length of space among the stars
Understanding life and death both count equally.

Play the music you dearly love high upon your straddle
And replay your wisdom as you take it to the grave.
Must you still forfeit excitement? To what end?
Simply gaze upon the fabric of your time.

Dr. Deb

Birdie

What does the little birdie say
In her nest at the peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.

Birdie, rest a little longer,
‘Til the little wings are stronger,
So she rests a little longer,
Then she finally flies away.

This has been happening at our house!  The bird, a Junco, looks to be a bit beaten up – it is still flying around my deck and eating the birdseed I put out for it.  That goes on for many fifteen minutes, then she flys down and sits in a cardboard box right outside the patio door. So, being a crazy bird lover, I put a blanket in the box when it flew off for a spell.  The bird, let’s see, I’ll call it “Junky” since it is a Junco, pecked at the blanket so it was tight against the edges, fluffed up its feathers, sat down, and closed its eyes. It’s still there – sleeping.  Isn’t nature amazing . . .

Dark-eyed Junco | Audubon Field Guide