We had been away exploring the "camping" experience during the CREATIVE BLOOMINGS July P.A.D. But the best part about going away camping is the return home. So it is back to business for the micro poetry arm of the CB stable of sites. We'll be filling the gas tank over at Flashy Fiction as well, and seeing if we can get the motor running more efficiently.
So for starters, write a "home" poem. It can be where you live (or had lived). It can be a return to a point where you felt things escape your scope. It can be about a place where you are most comfortable; a home away from home, if you will.
Wherever it is, bring it home in 14 lines or less, because that's how we roll!
HOMECOMING
ReplyDeleteThis house
welcomes me home.
Its walls hug me,
reviving the serenity
I crave.
© Susan Schoeffield
ReplyDeleteHome
We came to live in Normandy
some twenty years ago,
but wouldn’t leave for a million pounds -
we have come home to roost.
Where else in the world
could I walk a hundred yards or so
with bonjours, ça vas
and bisous all the way?
bisous = kisses
115 GRAHAM AVENUE
ReplyDeleteI still dream of our cold-water flat
in Brooklyn where I spent my first ten years.
The room that attracted me the most
had green mold growing rampant on the walls
and it was always winter-cold there,
even in the heat of summer months.
We took baths in the kitchen tub, behind
closed curtains and we shared the bathroom
with our neighbors, Hassidic Jews next door.
I did not know we were poor back then.
We were wealthy in laughter and love.
We were together we thought forever.
Mama baked our favorite birthday cakes.
Papa made up parables I never forgot.
Welcome no more.
ReplyDeleteWords say it,
But actions don’t.
You raised me to be the child of God that I am,
Led me to the Call,
But not here.
You are still home to me,
Though you claim me not.
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ReplyDeleteI still dream of our cold-water flat
ReplyDeletein Brooklyn where I spent my first ten years.
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