Brilliant and sparkly Different and unique Sweet and gentle love is what you are made of
Every time I think of you I’m instantly reminded Of the beauty all around me And the love inside of me I love you my sweetie
Wintertime is nearing, and although it has yet to snow, I picture glittering starlike snowflakes gently tumbling from the sky when I read this poem. And no matter how cold or hardened I may have become, it still warms my heart to think of the person this poem was written for.
Made up of real thoughts and real emotions to describe a real person, Pure Love should certainly reside in the Realism category of Cadent Poems. But it’s clearly described through whimsy and fantasy – two of my favourite things to fall back on when writing poetry. So I lodged it in the Phantasism category along with other fabricated tales made up from bits of reality.
For more about the poem Pure Love, please visit Becoming a Poem : 22 for you, or view other poems in the Phantasism category of Cadent Poems:
Colder weather and autumn colours arrive earlier for some of us, and so does Thanksgiving.
Our neighbours south of the border may have to wait until November, but after a sunny summer season, this weekend brings a holiday where most Canadians celebrate indoors rather than out in the great outdoors.
Although I’m not planning a Thanksgiving celebration this year, I am thankful to have an indoor space to keep me dry and warm – just like Gordy the mouse does, I’m sure.
Fall into Cadence’s quick and fun reads to kick off Canada’s Thanksgiving long weekend:
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Starting my day at 3am is a great way to make a day last forever.
After writing and researching words for a couple of hours, I tucked myself back into bed for a couple more. By the time I got out the door for a refreshing morning walk, construction along the seawall had already begun.
Adept at ignoring unpleasant things, I blocked it out and enjoyed the view of the ocean.
Once I reached the top of the small incline indicating my turnaround, I paused for a stretch directly above the magnanimous mechanical equipment pounding the pavement and excavating the ground, which led me to recall a piece I wrote several years ago:
Now back into my comfortable abode, I can still hear the sounds of construction, but I realize that it’s temporary – just like everything else is.
Thinking back, I’m reminded of how I came up with the title for this poem by starting off with the word veracity while thinking of a hammer. Of course, Peter Gabriel tuned into my head with his Sledgehammer, which asserted my choice to go with a Veracious Sledgehammer.
One of the best concerts I’ve ever been to, it was decades ago when my brother, sister and I sang and danced from the top of our benches. Together, I’m quite certain we were louder than this morning’s construction sounds.
Clunker through other posts touching on what might be considered slightly catastrophic matters while focussing on somber themes and words:
Sundering might be thought of as an extreme term to describe how I have to break-down my day to get all the things I want to get done today, but considering how I’m still locked-in dark matter, I think it’s quite fitting.
Pummeling through words and poems while working on the new category added to Cadent Poems, somber words keep swirling though my head like a black-hole tornado!
Reviewing pieces which I categorized as somber tends to dredge up some rather dire and dismal memories. But it does remind me of how resilient I am and how resorting to simple things, such as music, dancing, and writing, can sometimes pull me through.
Sundering sundries on a sunless Sunday, I was led to another piece written quite a while ago during a time when I mused on the word swoon.
You might have previewed the bright side of a swooner when love and romance was featured in February, and yes, there is a dark side to this swooner too.
Well, I think it’s time for a nice hot cup of coffee. I like a dark roast in a fresh white cup – no sugar, no milk, but I might add some maple syrup to sweeten things up.
Visit Cadent Words for the bright and dark side to poetry and more:
Although my father passed away more than two decades ago, I recall how difficult it was to get through the first Father’s Day after his passing. But with every year that’s gone by, I’ve come to appreciate and love him more.
Very much aware of how everyone’s lives differ and how each person grieves differently, I hope it brings some small comfort to some in knowing that, for me, the love and the memories my father and I shared, has only grown stronger.
When you passed away I was far away At the time I was told Irises meant to remember A symbol of remembrance Purple flowering irises I sent to be with you To rest by your side
When you passed away I was far away I wasn’t there to see you off Instead of I by your side Irises were laid To let passersby know I’d always remember I’d never forget you
Then now and forever You are my only iris Then now and forever I love and remember you Then now and forever
Iris is one of a small collection of poems featured in Family Garden. Please visit CadentWords to view the Introduction and select from the Table of Contents for your next garden inspired poem: