Delicious – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

What happiness can arrive
when sunlight's retreat paints

leaves cherry crush, berry swirl
butterscotch eye candy

walking through an ordinary Monday
your hand in mine, we breathe the awe
 
street lined masterpieces
colored by a lack of chlorophyll

less of something  
created more today

© Ali Grimshaw 2020

Another yummy tree in my Portland, Oregon neighborhood.

Let Fall Catch You – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

Painted leaves sing in unison
Unlike music, their song
is soundless harmony.

This orchestra of glow
soothes the tempo
of an internal pounding

from a day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.

Fall catches you
with muted volume
a serenade of equilibrium

let the blushing colors 
sing you home.

© Alicia Grimshaw (rewrite of 2018 poem)

Together – Poem By Ali Grimshaw

tasting sadness on your skin
I lean into the space between

your peach-warm cheeks glow
while shadow-stones play
on Autumn's windowshade
 
head to heartbeat 
I hold you to my chest
feel a shift to calm

a small sigh from your lips
warmly weighted 

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

Join us at dVers Poets’ Pub for a Quadrille HERE

Her Dance – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

"Remember your dance?
The young girl inside me
calls out, 
"Remember?"

Dad told me how, as a baby,
I sat on the floor rocking side to side,
just smiling.

Later I was known to start the day 
with only one shoe
my frustrated mother shaking her head
while the school bus left me behind again.

I was a girl who thrived
climbing trees, running through woods
I wasn't hyperactive, just a mover.
Running brought temporary relief.

The only dancing I knew growing up  
drill teams of painted girls, 
performance dancers
that wasn't me.

Finding social dancing in my 20's 
was like a drug. 
Swinging partners in dancehalls
escaping thoughts I didn't know how to turn off. 
Anxiety, the never ending loop of ideas. 
I found myself in the music. 
I floated free. 

It is never too late 
to turn the music on
find your sway, sashay 
surrender to internal movement 

Your body has not forgotten.
Your brain has many incredible ideas 
but your heart is the one who knows
how to dance with the world.

Listen inward
find the place 
where your freedom
resides.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

“When Gillian was 8 years old, her hyperactivity — which earned her the nickname Wriggle-Bottom — led her mother to take her to a family doctor. While he examined Gillian, the doctor put on some music and asked Mrs. Pyrke to leave the room with him. “Out they went and the minute they had gone I started to dance to the music, even going up on his desk,” Ms. Lynne wrote in her autobiography, “A Dancer in Wartime” (2012). “What I hadn’t noticed was that his door was one of those beautiful old glass ones with etched designs through which the doctor and my mother were watching.” As they observed Gillian dancing with abandon, she recalled, the doctor said: “There is no trouble with this child, Mrs. Pyrke. She is a natural dancer — you must take her to dance class.” – Gillian Lynne, Choreographer of ‘Cats,’ Is Dead at 92 from The New York Times

Join Open Link Night on dVerse Poets Pub HERE

Ambling – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

Let's linger in the Autumn glow
dusk is on its way

to cloak us with comfort
ease our worries loose
to fall.

Pausing here 
we become one with this 
seasonal scene of hush

before continuing our saunter
harvesting what matters most
from this day.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021

Join us on dVerse for Quadrille Monday HERE

Photo take in Portland, Oregon 2020. View of the Willamette River.

Soul-forgetfulness – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

What’s missing? she asked herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t know her strengths. It wasn’t that her imagination had run off to have an affair with someone better. It wasn’t that she expected easy.

What was missing now was the risk to hope again. To dream bigger, like a five-year-old coloring with abandon on the whole wall. Markers in hand, in full out play. As far as each arm could reach. Without fear of intersecting lines, sharp puncture points or curvy wide spaces.

What’s missing is the leap, the willingness to let it unfold and seeing herself capable of not only the journey but strong enough to feel all the textures of emotion like carpets of days she had walked through to get to now. She knew her heart would break every day and that just meant that it would keep growing.

Top of the hill, feet on the pedals, hair in the wind, she is going.

© Ali Grimshaw 2021 

“In the Celtic tradition it was said that we suffer from soul-forgetfulness. We have forgotten who we are and have fallen out of true relationship with the earth and with one another. Thus, the path to wellbeing is not about becoming something other than ourselves or about acquiring a spiritual knowledge that is essentially foreign to us. It is about waking up to a knowledge that is deep in the very fabric of our being, and it is about living in relation to this wisdom.” – John Philip Newell, “Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul,” The Daily Good





Season of Temporary – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

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tended affectionately
organic prizes plumped
primed by summer's passion
heat and BB King's blues
quenching warmth 
gathering of sunlit kisses
red ripe to tango 
with your tongue and mine
slip into my backyard 
delight in this tender flesh
this ready to please moment 
of this temporary season.

© Ali Grimshaw 2020 

Dear readers and followers, here’s a great opportunity for your writings to be read by other writers, and also to find and meet other writers. You are very welcome to share a poem, HERE, at Promote Yourself Monday on Go Dog Go Cafe.

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And so it goes – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

at either end of night
there is an opening to light
between, "Good Morning"
and the next curtaining of eyes

there is an opening 
between what remains on the list
the permanently written yet unresolved
and the one who holds the pen

there is an opening 
without a defined doorway
that resides within all light
a heartspace without walls

it lies in the pause before the next 
twilight of the in between
rubythroat mellowing to nectarine

©Ali Grimshaw 2021

Join us on dVerse for Open Link Night HERE



She Stood for Others – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.” – Winston Churchill

she stood for listening
overcoming discouragement
and air that never burned your nostrils

she led by digging weeds with you
side-by-side overheated or drenched.

she never let fear ride in the front seat

and forever reminded me
the sun’s position
changes everyone’s shadow
everyone’s

©Ali Grimshaw 2021

Quadrille Monday on dVerse Poets Pub – Join a friendly group of poets HERE

Photo taken on a family trip to NYC. I just love this mural.

Renewal Through Poetry: Writing Circle

Mon, Aug 23, 2021 4:00 PM PDT – Register HERE

Poems from the Circle

Guardian

Lying on a bed
Of soft clover
And gentle ferns
I gaze up at you-
As your limbs
Reach to the sky
I cover my eyes
In an attempt
To shade from
The sunlight
Streaming down-
Noticing my
Squinting eyes
You quietly call
The gentle breeze
To craft a lovely canopy
From green leaves
Allowing me to
Once again
See you clearly-
Here we stay
Until the sun
Begins to set
Until you
Reach down
Lift me up
And tenderly
Place me
In the crook
Of your strong branch-
I rest my head
In peaceful sleep

By Kelley Morris

I am grateful for Kelley's permission to share her poem from a recent writing circle. I continue to meet amazing women across different time zones. You can find more of her poems on her blog, pianogirlthoughts.com

Writing together provides a mirror for us to process life in a place where we have all agreed to listen with compassion. Come join us for a writing circle. No experience needed. All voices are welcome.

Self-Compassion Through Poetry: Writing Circle, Friday, August 13, 9:30 – 11:00 am PDT. Register here