The Clock: An Etheree

Posted on April 28, 2020 by rosecappelli

Several years ago Allan and I purchased a grandfather clock. We had talked about having one in our home for years, but then came the rhythms of growing into a marriage that put the clock into that “someday” category.

Now it proudly stands at the foot of the stairs, welcoming us each morning, wishing us sweet dreams each night. It ticks the seconds, chimes the quarter hours, and bongs the hour. It is a constant in our world, a comfort in a time when many things aren’t.

One of my goals for poetry month was to experiment with some new poetry forms. So on this last Tuesday in April, I’m offering up an Etheree, a ten line non-rhyming form with ascending syllable count, inspired by the clock.

The Clock

Time
goes on
signaled by
the soft chiming,
echoed by the beats
of my life-pumping heart
and the rhythms of my life –
a comfort during sleepless nights,
a guardian of all who dwell here,
a constant at the start and end of day.

Posted in Poems, Poetry Friday, Slices | 12 Comments

Poetry Friday: Bluebird’s Reflections

Posted on April 24, 2020 by rosecappelli

Today I’m participating in Poetry Friday. You can find the roundup at Wondering and Wandering, along with the next installment of the 2020 Progressive Poem. Thanks, Christie!

A few weeks ago I was delighted to notice that the bluebirds returned. This spring they chose the the large white house by the peonies for their home, and before long there were five eggs nestled in the soft bed of pine needles. Yesterday I watched the couple perched on the roof, sharing a snack. Such a heart-warming scene!

Yesterday as the wind blew and the temperature dropped, I wondered what the mama bluebird might be thinking. Is she grateful for a place of shelter? Hopeful for a healthy brood? Worried about possible predators? Those thoughts, inspired Amy Ludwig Vanderwater’s lesson on writing in the voice of another, led to this short poem:

Bluebird’s Reflections

Wind chills the air,
Scatters blossoms from the cherry tree.
Blows down branches from the maple.
But in this sturdy house
I sit on five lovely eggs,
Thankful for shelter from the wind.
Thankful for soft pine needles.
Thankful for each new life.

Have a wonderful weekend and stay safe!

Posted in Poetry Friday | 9 Comments

Hope

Posted on April 21, 2020 by rosecappelli

Happy to be back today. Like with many of you, the past few weeks have brought sleepless nights, alternating periods of sadness and joy, and many adjustments as we’ve learned how to do things differently.

Last week my daughter stopped by to drop off some groceries. It was a beautiful day so we all sat in the backyard at a safe distance from each other, except for the dogs who all wanted to be on our laps. But there were no hugs, no sharing space in the kitchen, no excitement about plans for summer travel adventures. The new normal. Yet, there was positive conversation about gardening, birds, alternate summer plans for community service, and new ways to connect. There was hope, and love, and gratitude. There was joy.

I’m not sure where I first saw the list of daily questions to ask yourself during this time of social distancing, probably Twitter or maybe Facebook, but it sits by my computer as a daily reminder for me to think about what I am grateful for, who I am connecting with, what expectation of normal I am letting go, how I am getting outside, how I am moving my body, and what beauty I am creating or inviting in.

Last night I participated in a Twitter chat about the power of poetry to soothe souls during trying times (#NYEDChat), so I’ll leave you with some words from Emily Dickinson:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

Take care and stay safe.

Posted in Slices | 17 Comments

Progressive Poem Line #20

Posted on April 20, 2020 by rosecappelli

Earlier this month Margaret Simon asked if I would be interested in participating in the 2020 Progressive Poem during the month of April. I quickly agreed (Why not? It’s poetry!), not really knowing what I was getting into. I soon learned that the KidLit Progressive poem has been around since 2012. Thirty poets sign on to add a line to a poem each day in April. This year each new poet has been given the choice of two lines, then offering choices to whomever is next in line. It’s been fun watching the poem unfold, seeing if my choices match those that were chosen, and thinking about what would happen when it was my turn. You can see the lines Tabitha offered me here, and my choice below:

Progressive Poem 2020

Sweet violets shimmy, daffodils sway
along the wiregrass path to the lake
I carry a rucksack of tasty cakes
and a banjo passed down from my gram.

I follow the tracks of deer and raccoon
and echo the call of a wandering loon.
A whispering breeze joins in our song
and night melts into a rose gold dawn

Deep into nature’s embrace, I fold.
Promise of spring helps shake the cold
hints of sun lightly dapple the trees
calling out the sleepy bees

Leaf-litter crackles…I pause. Twig snaps.
I gasp! Shudder! Breathe out. Relax…
as a whitetail doe comes into view.
She shifts and spotted fawns debut.

We freeze. My green eyes and her brown
Meet and lock. Time slows down.
I scatter the cakes, backing away

__________________________________________

I like the way the cakes from the first stanza appeared again. I felt that offering the cakes could signal the understanding and respect that we share with nature, but it could also be a way to ensure a safe exit. I’ll let Janice at Salt City Verse decide. Here are the choices I came up with:

Safely exiting this strange ballet.

or

My heart aware, content to share.

Thanks for the opportunity to join in.

Posted in Poems | 9 Comments

Poetry Friday: The Cherry Tree

Posted on April 17, 2020 by rosecappelli

Just outside our back porch is a flowering cherry tree. During the forty-two years we have lived in this house it has served as the perfect climbing tree, housed a home-made fort, been home to countless birds, squirrels, and insects, and offered a branch for my grandson’s first swing. It has survived the fall of large limbs blown down in windstorms, and even refused to give up when a falling pine came crashing through our porch roof, shearing off about a fourth of it. And every spring, right on cue, it erupts into a mass of glorious pink blossoms, so beautiful that any thoughts of the need to cut it down vanish from our thoughts. So it is not surprising that it was the first thing to come to my mind when I read the three words Amy Ludwig VanDerwater picked for inspiration earlier in the week – start, glorious, glorified. It also happened to be the day her lesson was about writing acrostics.

The Cherry Tree

Gnarled branches

Lie in wait for rain and sun until

One small bud pokes through,

Ready to reveal

Its pink splendor

Over an emerald lawn,

Under a sapphire

Sky.

You can find today’s poetry roundup here. Thanks, Molly, for hosting.

Posted in Poetry Friday | 30 Comments