Three poems on quilting

[from Google images] 

 

 

 

THREE POEMS ON QUILTING

      ---from Macheski's "Quilt Stories"

 

I. The Quilting Party ( a Minute form)

 

Deaf Hephzibah sits down to quilt,

   her head atilt,

   and tries to hear

   with her good ear.

Young Phoebe says, I'll piece some blocks..."

   "You'll twist your locks?"

"...the lover's chain."

    "...an awful pain."

"So how's your husband this hot day?"

   "I know I'm gray."

"John's sawing wood?"

 "I'm feeling good."

~~

 

II. Memories (a Cameo)

 

Vivid

scraps of calico,

remnants of bright copper cushions

from Mother's

easy chair; dancing-school ginghams,

the rich silk I bought myself--

quilting.

~~

 

III. He CAN quilt! ( a Pensee)

 

Brother--

mischievous--begged

allowance to try quilting.

(White thread on dark cloth--easier

to rip out)... His good stitching stays!

~~

 

[PL, published in Old-Millpond Anthology, 2004]

 

 





Marching into Spring - poem

~~detail, south flower bed, Couchwood, PL~~ 

 

We are marching. . .  

 

The oom-pah rhythm of a marching

ignites the listeners’ hands and heads and feet

till not a soul is still, and all must stand

 and clap and sing and dance to snare drum’s beat.

 

Not so the spring this year. It lagged behind

in winter’s chill. We moaned like oboes out

of tune and tubists out of step. Snowblind,

we watched from windows-- full of pout and doubt

 

that spring would ever come. On St. Pat’s Day,

or thereabouts, expected, longed-for warm

returned like oboes back in sync, the splay

of tubists feet back to their rhythmed charm.

 

 We clap our hands and rake those last-year’s leaves

 away from rows of daffodils, re-arch

 the trellises that fell in snow. Our peeves

 forgotten.   Fanfares now: it’s finally March!!

~~

 

PL, March, 2014, for SC-PRA contest

~~Arkansas woodlands, PL~~

AN OZARK SPRING: a haibun

       I leave the Lucidity Poets Retreat in Eureka Springs, heading south on Highway 23-- the Pig Trail--my mind full of inspiration, eyes tuned to early spring things, Muse (Erato) perched on my shoulder.

       Passing a highway place sign, I see only several gray wooden shacks, perhaps once serving as campmeeting tents.

buildings in a row

under the mountain's sheer drop

Witter weathers well

 

       Farther on, around a curve,

 

cows rest in the mire

of a spring rain-soaked feedlot

close by, the traffic

       Sloping foothills reflect the many shades of spring-new meadows. Black and white cows season the greens--a panorama worthy of postcards and jigsaw puzzles. In pastures close to the highway, I notice

grass under cowpiles

shoots up higher than ordinary

--organic farming

 

 

       Across the road from a church,

 

wispy blonde broomsedge

waves through the graveyard fence

lonely? thirsty?

 

       South of Cass, close to I-40 and the flatlands, are

 

magenta faded,

old poke salet skeletons--

stripped and bleached white,

akimbo from winter winds--

still standing in spring pasture.

 

~~

from windfall persimmons: a collection of Oriental forms, 1995, PL, dba lovepat press

Winter weary, so on the first warm day of March.............

[Couchwood, southwest flower bed detail, PL]

 

3/10/14

 

first warm March day

into daylight savings time

taking the plants outside

~~

 

Only

minutes after

I take the plants outside,

a breeze drifts in, as if to say

Too soon!

~~

 

first warm March day

after the brutal winter

I rake leaves, pull vines

  (vinca and ivy) twisting

   twining among spring bulbs

~~

 

warm March afternoon

pruning gardenias,

lorapetalum

   leaves that sustained winter burn

   oak leaves served as mulch

~~

 

3/12/14

 

Mother

Nature, you rule!

My mother, you were right!

Don't put the house plants out until

April!

~~

 

 PL, c 2014, lovepat press

 

 

 

 



Tanka through the years

like the zip-on legs
of his new cargo-style shorts
which transform to pants,
   I zip two more lines to my
   haiku and make a tanka
[2003]
~~

reading these tanka
inspires new depth
to a new chapter
 and a way to organize
   my own poetic offering
[2005]
~~

the ice and snow
can melt now
we managed
   but after 3 days
   I'm out of ice cream!
[2006]
~~

above the fog
geese fly in formation
across the river
   how do they know
   which way is which?
[2007]
~~

new college prez
younger than my youngest child
what can he know?
   should we enroll
   our grandson?
[2008]
~~

slow, low-flying plane
(perhaps a helicopter)
shadowing dream fears
   finally it moves northward
   and my peace of mind returns.
[2009]
~~

good snow for snowman
no one here but too-old me
to construct one
   not too old to walk the yard
   in search of daffodil buds
[2010]
~~

looking everywhere
for the stepstool ... finding it
pushed under the table
   as we did years ago
   when our toddlers used it
[2011]
~~
c lovepat press, PL, 2014

"Will winter ever end?" some folks ask

a single, brave bird
tries its winter-dormant voice:
spring-a-soon, spring's soon!

[from delicious fatigue, 1992]
~~

two feet of snow there
yet the geese fly northward--
early March dawn

[premier edition, Hermitage, Romania, 2004]
~~

in the median
black Lab
shivering

[from Measuring March, 2003,
 published in Muse of Fire]
~~

ice storm--
a vine
without its host

[Measuring March, 2003]
~~
c lovepat press, 2014, PL

Accelerando-- a poem

The new year's resolutions made,

in February's fabric fade.

Like each day's blue and rosy dawn,

another month has come and gone.

 

So many noble goals were set,

like cleaning oven, closet; yet,

a week passed by with every yawn!

Another month has come and gone.

 

The pundits say the way to gauge

time's flight is by advancing age.

Good reason why, though plans were drawn,

another month has come and gone.

~~
A Kyrielle pattern
c 2014, PL, lovepat press
from variations, 1994