Painted leaves sing in unison
Unlike music, their song
is soundless harmony.
This orchestra of color
soothes the tempo
an internal pounding
from a day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.
Fall catches me
with muted volume
a serenade of equilibrium.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
organic prizes tended affectionately
primed by summer’s passionate heat and BB King’s blues
quenching warmth, a gathering of sunlight kisses
red ripe to tango with your tongue and mine
slip into my backyard to delight in this tender flesh
this ready to please moment soon closed for the season.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
you beside, never
behind, together we face
forward fearlessly.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Senryu
A love note to my mother. The one who lead me to the forest.
© Ali Grimshaw
The 5:00 am thud,
my front porch newspaper.
When will this sound disappear
from my listening landscape?
Like the comfort
of sounds, predictable life
before the robots were made.
When hands held headlines
faithful objects, a lifeline
of interpretation on paper thinness
read in gentle openness
played at morning speed of drowsy slow
accompanied by the aroma of coffee.
The illusion of a day with
news within my control.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
“It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men [and women] die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.”—William Carlos Williams
13 Ways to Support Poetry – guest blog post by Dick Allen – A great article with specific ways to keep poetry alive in the world.
National Poetry Month – Fall in love with a poet.
trusting sunlight, reach
disentangle tight petals
unfurl, face forward
Inside the conversation of contribution
my favorite place to dwell
walls like soft bubble gum that can expand
with the breath of new ideas
to watch you poke, prod, punch
a fist through the wall
on your face the surprised realization
of the awe-filled fluidity, stretched elastic
boundaries you once believed to be walls of stone.
How a soft blow, like cooling off your tea too hot
can open up a whole new room. High rounded ceilings
with space to grow into.
My favorite place to be is inside a coaching conversation listening for another’s dreams. This was a tough idea to capture in a photo. Photo Challenge: Favorite Place
Rain on our lips
down the path we run.
Through puddles
not around.
Mud and moss
wind whipped hair
years of words
between breaths of air.
Over roots, between trees
creek waters roll by, unraveling
questions quenched by the miles.
Thoughts uttered within the flow
of movement, vulnerability
not possible in stillness.
Ali Grimshaw – revision of a poem first shared in 2016
Thinking in reverse
months tip, like dominos
to revisit that summer day.
Longing for this cleansing pool,
offering of chilled calmness
encircled by stone, here I joined
the river of slow movement,
pulling at my rapid pulse.
Plucking the notes ever slower.
Heartbeat dissolving
until I was
just being
water.
© Ali Grimshaw
© Ali Grimshaw 2017
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 