Merely Day By Day

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.   I wonder if poets wrestle with the last poem they place in a collection. Do they struggle to find the perfect arrangement of words? Do they lose sleep trying to create rhythms of sounds for readers? Do they hope to find the perfect end to make readers sigh? I wonder if poets realize the last poem is a new beginning. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Sunday Mornings Sunday mornings: a cup of coffee, a bit of creamer, quiet contemplation, early writing, time for reading, much relaxing, a bit of breakfast, a bite of toast, brunch. no racing, no hurry, no rushing, quiet, peaceful, still, Sunday mornings. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day. 

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Today I tried a nonet.  Glenda, at Evolving English Teacher, shared a nonet about tulips .  I thought I'd give it a try in writing about the cherry blossoms on our weeping cherry tree.  

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day. 

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  often i choose quiet the weight of words heavy the necessity of finding the right one essential the nuances which complicate meaning unending no one word quite right cacophonous no set of words encompassing significance often i choose quiet © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  The truth isn't painted by word artists twisting reaching creating a story from a small nugget. The truth isn't found by journalists searching molding discovering a crumb trying to make it dessert. The truth isn't heard from politicians declaring proclaiming their version of a story tainted by money. The truth in today's world is often silenced hidden colored by glasses we don't know we wear. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  The sun warms the blacktop, awakens the tulip, radiates through windows, reflects off glass, shimmers on water, shines its brilliant light, a day for sunglasses. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  sitting across the booth talking life, grandpa looks up from his coffee, "there will be a time when you feel you no longer fit into this world." i thought the fast pace of technology, automation, information, would someday make me feel far behind. i thought it would be the forward revolution, evolution of our planet, which would become too quick, would push me aside. i never thought it would be the backward turning of the clock. the step back to inequality. the lines drawn at borders. the words divisive. the lack of empathy. i look at the calendar to check, yes, 2018. but the words on my computer, the voices on my television, the rumblings of the people, seem of long ago. have we learned nothing in our time on this plan...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  anticipating your stay, i've been waiting. watching out the window, looking  for you. standing at the door, hoping it won't be long. staring down the road, knowing it must be soon. but you were nowhere, i'd given up. hanging my head, i quit watching. days passed. weeks, months. when i quit looking, i found you. there you were. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  It's also Friday.  Today I'm joining the Poetry Friday community as they celebrate poetry.  Today Robyn Hood Black is hosting at  Life on the Deckle Edge .  Stop by and join the celebration.   Mary Lee is writing a golden shovel each day .  She has me a bit fascinated by the form.  Every once in awhile I decide to give it a try.  Today's golden shovel poem is written from a quote by Rick Warren.    try to remember  not just the why but the how    of dreams that seem too far the first step belongs to you it may take everything you have but your time will come just a dream it is not   just   start to figure out how   as the end is not so far the fi...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day. 

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Since reading Sakura's Cherry Blossoms , I've been in the mood to try a tanka.  I had forgotten what a challenge it was to write in this form.  I think I need some practice.  

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  It's Tuesday and time for a little Slice of Life.  Thanks to  Two Writing Teachers  for hosting this community.  Join the conversation  here .  Earth-Sky Sky reflects in the water still sitting from days of rain: the dark blue of sky, the gray of approaching night, subtle hints of orange painted on nature's watery canvas. The trees look at themselves in nature's mirror, wishing they were dressed in leaves of green instead of the brown of winter unrelenting. The clouds dance seizing the opportunity to own earth and sky. A mallard swims peacefully blending the lines of sunset's masterpiece. The crescent moon rises wishing for its opportunity to play in the water, to waltz in its reflection, to shine on land ...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Today's poem comes from a little conversation. "It is April, right?" I moaned as I came into the building from outside.  "I don't even know what to call what it is doing outside.  It looks like little tiny snow pellets out there.  It isn't hail.  It isn't sleet.  It isn't snow."  "Maybe it's brickle," my friend quipped.  "Brickle?  What's that?" I asked. "What it is doing outside," she chuckled.  "It's a bit like snow." It was true.  What I had seen was a bit like snow, but it wasn't those giant beautiful flakes we've come to know.  However, it wasn't as hard as hail which seems to be much more like an ice ball.   I had to find out what it was called....

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.    Today we're halfway there!!!  the world will tell  you    that you  don't have what it takes  to do what needs to be done, that you don't  see  all that can get in the way of your dreams,  the challenge is to fight to keep the dream  whole  to not be afraid of the  staircase that seems so far from where you stand, the world is not  just,  but if you do whatever it might  take  you will find a way to make  the    impossible, possible, but  first    you begin with just one  step

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  daffodils dancing, reaching for sunlight's bright hand. wondrous spring waltz. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  It's also Friday.  Today I'm joining the Poetry Friday community as they celebrate poetry.  Today Robyn Hood Black is hosting at Life on the Deckle Edge .  Stop by and join the celebration.   Today I decided to have a little fun.  Where would I be without black pants?   Dear Black Pants Each day into my closet I do reach, For a pair of black pants ready to wear. I do ignore the constant inner speech. It's reprimand, I can no longer bear. Black pants you do make my life a dream With the great ease you bring to each new day. You make each morning easy it does seem. I love you more than blue or beige or gray. With you black pants, any shirt I may choose. Everything looks just fine with you, pants dear. No matter my ...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Today there is no poem waiting. Just silence. I look to the stars. Nothing. I listen for the words. No sound. I wait patiently for the poem. Nothing comes. I reach for the keys. No words. Just a blank page staring. Maybe tomorrow. ©  Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  This month, I've been following Mary Lee Hahn's challenge to write a golden shovel poem each day  from a student selected quote.  I've been so fascinated by the process.  I've never tried to write a golden shovel poem, though I have started to see them here and there since Nikki Grimes published One Last Word .  Last night, I came home from the gym prepared to write a humorous golden shovel of my continuous battle with an exercise routine, but this is where it ended.  Today's golden shovel first attempt is inspired by a quote from Glenda, the Good Witch, from the Wizard of Oz.  It's a favorite.  Thanks, Mary Lee, for the push  gentle nudge to try something new.   it's not just  you who wonders  always ...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  It's Tuesday and time for a little Slice of Life.  Thanks to  Two Writing Teachers  for hosting this community.  Join the conversation  here .  Yesterday as I headed home for the day, I noticed the egret was back at the city pond.  I pulled over to take a closer look, only to realize there wasn't just one egret; instead, I counted ten egrets surrounding the small pond.  As I tried to get a picture without scaring them away, I took a look around the pond at the activity all around.  The blue heron, noticing my approach, glided from where he had been resting, to the other side of the pond.  I noted the cormorant had returned to the area with a few friends.  As always, the geese were everywhere. ...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  They say our ancestors floated on ponds, swam in rushing rivers, nested near lakes. Some friends still miss that peace, the quiet calm of waters deep, resting in whispering grasslands. Me, I'm happy here in my blacktop ocean. The warmth of the sun radiating from asphalt fields. No more foraging the nearby farmlands for golden grains or berries plump and ripe. I've found my paradise: vast black landscapes, the clamoring of crowds, and the occasional scrap discarded. I'll raise my family here in the land of abundance where opportunity surrounds and tomorrow brings possibility. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  This morning, I read an article Holly Meuller posted called, " Why You Should Surround Yourself With More Books Than You'll Ever Have Time To Read ."  It reminded me of the post I wrote during the Slice of Life Challenge titled, " Books I Haven't Read ."  I decided there surely had to be a poem here somewhere so I thought I'd give it a try.  Let's face it, we all have books we haven't read resting on our shelves and hiding on our eReaders. Tomorrow's Treasure Resting on the shelf. Peppered between books lucky enough to have been chosen. Waiting in the eReader. Purchased from recommendation, in weakness. Hoping to be next. Calling to me from its humble space. "Pick me." "I'm...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Checked my calendar, this early morn, And April it did say.   I looked outside once again. There really was no way. "Snow again," I cried aloud, And shook my weary head. White, it covered all the earth, It should be green instead. April showers, they do say, As flowers start to pop. Seems these days, snow's all we see. It just won't even stop. The calendar, it doesn't lie, Yes, April is the date. So, please, tell Mother Nature, Spring's running much too late. I can't imagine this can last, It surely has to end. Oh, Dear Spring, please take a stand. Spring, if not now, then when? © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  It's also Friday.  Today I'm joining the Poetry Friday community as they celebrate poetry.  Today Amy Ludwig VanDerwater is hosting at the Poetry Farm .  Stop by and join the celebration.   Obsessed with beginnings and endings, we celebrate new houses, newborn babies, new job opportunities, new discoveries. We lament over endings: the final page of a book, the close of a day, the conclusion of a vacation, an end to life's journey. We find ourselves with mixed emotions at the line between an end and a new beginning. Graduation. Retirement. Leaving one home to start anew in another. Beginnings and endings matter, but the sweet spot is in the middle. The middle is where the magic is made. It's no...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Deer saunter in open fields stopping to drink from temporary ponds reflecting the orange sunset. The trees still too bare to hide them, as they meander, step after step, lingering, in fields at dusk. © Cathy L. Mere, 2018

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.   You never know where the ideas are going to come from each day.  It was a stop by Carol's blog today that helped shape this poem.  If you haven't been to Carol's Corner , she's writing a poem each day about " a reader's life ."  Yesterday she wrote a mask poem (thank you, Amy LV ) about a book, " I am a Book ".  It made me think of my eReader.  Where would I be without out it?  I decided I would try a mask poem as well....from the eReader's point of view.   An eReader's Life The books on the shelf are jealous of me. I go everywhere with her: school, coffee shops, airport terminals. I'm books amplifed: fiction, informational text, self-improvement, children's literature, poetry, even magazine...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.   Today is also the first Tuesday since the March Slice of Life Challenge.  It seems only fitting that I try a "story poem" today.  Thanks to Two Writing Teachers for hosting this community.  Join the conversation here .   There's always so much to learn during April's poetry celebrations.  If you haven't stopped by The Poem Farm to see what Amy is up to this year, you really need to click over for a visit.  This year, Amy is writing about one subject using a different technique each day .  On day one she shared a list poem and on day two a story poem . For Easter, I decided I wanted to make my Grandma's fruit salad.  I called my mom for the details on the recipe.  When I placed the fruit salad on the table m...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.   Today...snow found me.  Again!!!!  I probably should have called this poem MOURNING Surprise because all of this snow has me crying.   Morning Suprise Yesterday the grass was green. Today I woke to white. The moon's light reflected snow. It was a dreadful sight. In January, I do love the flakes as they flutter from the sky. In April, when I see them fall, I think I might just cry. The snow rests on the branches. It covers all the ground. Flowers should be what I see each time I look around. Instead the white surrounds me, the temperatures are cold. They say that spring is coming, but I'm doubting what I'm told. It's time for birds and tulips; much warmer weather too. I can't believe it's not yet spring. Yes, Sno...

For the month of April, I'll be writing poetry each day in celebration of National Poetry Month.  I've decided not choose a theme, not to plan the writing, but instead to wait to see what poetry finds me each day.  Here we go.... Poetry is Coming Shhhh! I hear poetry tiptoeing on light feet, hiding  around the corner. Shhhh! I hear poetry whispering in the spring wind, rustling through treetops.   Shhhh! I hear poetry playing by the creek, wading on the water's edge.   Shhhh!  I hear poetry waiting to surprise us, waiting to be heard.   © Cathy L. Mere, 2018