Wonderment Training – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

walking through

fields of bright questions

I pick whys

and hows, bloom

gold awes for consideration

wonderment training

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

A shadorma (a six-line, 26-syllable poem or stanza) for National Poetry/Global Poetry Writing Month - Day 7. 

Visit this site for prompts all month long, napowrimo 

Join me for my next writing circle.
Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle
Tuesday, April 20, 11:30 AM to 1:00 PM (PDT) Register here

Photo taken in Munich, Germany 2019.

And the questions keep coming – poem by Ali Grimshaw

They come as colors with overlapping sides or frayed edges
and in the transition of time often mix into each other.

They come with thick bold boundaries, holding the fierce 
hues that refuse to be diminished or mellowed by new arrivals.

They come as evaporated mist close enough to dampen 
my skin, yet just out of reach to clearly articulate in sounds.

They come regardless of time of night, often dancing to distract
while I am in the middle of a conversation intent on listening.

They come generously not asking or demanding, but in hope
that I will allow them to teach me how feeling them could be

different than finding their answers.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021
Photo taken in Porto, Portugal 2017

Come explore opening lines on dVerse today MTB: Opening lines…beginnings

Cee's Stacked or Piled up Challenge

If Poets Ruled The World


If you brought poetry to your exhale

how would you breathe?

If you brought poetry to your cooking

how would it taste?

If you brought poetry to your singing

how would it sound?

If we brought poetry to the conversation

what would we hear?

Would we notice the moan of wind outside our arguments

that the water from the pipes is at a trickle, our absent neighbors

don’t stand in the front yard anymore, weeds thrive

overtaking the edible garden, while last year’s birdhouse

remains empty? A muffled fear

like cotton balls in our ears.


If I lived poetry

could I see the heart

underneath your skin?


© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

“Poetry, whether the writing itself is explicitly political or not, always seeks a better way to respond, to think, to live.” – E. Ce Miller, writer, journalist

Sharing this great quote from Moorezart




Unravel an opening


It is a continual process to unweave
that which is truth from story. I pull

a thread, remove one line, observe how
the fabric changes, notice the new spaces

breathing between essential threads
that remain, a skeleton of existence

until extracting the unneeded
leaves what is left, sparsely resilient

penetrable light of a future once blocked
by memories tightly woven.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2018

CB&W Photo Challenge

Forgiving Fridays



Random thoughts collect in her hair.

Ideas shed by passers by

printed in fonts, large and small

nestled in her curls.

Within the crowd ideas conflict

like a crash of cymbals.

She swallows them all

continues to shift the molecules

search for a new formula

that makes sense.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017




One word with the power to

kick my brain from the inside.

Why did I pick this?

Why is it important to me?

Without this one word question

procrastination can run amok.

Why does finishing this matter?

Will anyone care?

Is it worth it?

I am just one

among billions.

Just plain old me.

What if I don’t?

What will be lost?

Will I cease to exist?

The why of

is always

the essential.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

Inspired by Nikki’s post titled “Doubts and Dreams” –  Flying Through Water



Don’t believe everything you think.

When you visit the land of your own thinking.

Shocked by what you see

tip toe between the lines of your history

so as not to waken them

these tales from the past

will inquire of your intentions.


Take a flashlight

when you visit your thoughts.

It can be eerily dark inside,

a tangle of paths to lose your way.

No one to question doubts

remind you of the courageous act

of responsibility taken just last week.


Step with care, lightly

as you lift, poke and dig.

Leave some music playing in the room

to find your way out.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017





How to Read a Poem


You don’t think a poem.

It cannot be read like a street sign.

Lick it from a bowl,

stretch your tongue out for the last bit of tastiness.

Sit in the mist, absorb it through your skin

whilst remembering the texture.

Let your goosebumps translate the words.

Consider the possible,

like being able to scratch that itch in the middle of your back

you can never reach.

Accept the pain in your ribs, like a toddler tantrum

an infuriating poke partnered with a presence of love.

All that lies outside of you and everything inside

this container called


© Alicia Grimshaw 2017

national poetry month

“… encountering a difficult poem is like a game or sport, say rock climbing, that makes you work a bit. The idea of finding handholds and footholds and ascending one bit at a time is apt. But some climbs are easier than others; some are very easy. You may enjoy an easy climb for a while, but you may also find that you want a bigger challenge. Reading poetry works the same way, and, fortunately, poets leave trails to help you look for the way “up” a poem. You’ll have to do some work, hard work in some cases, but most of the time, the trails are there for you to discover.” – How to Read a Poem from Poets.org