Changing Seasons

As a big Fall enthusiast, I'm anxiously waiting for my birthday which, this year, is the first day of Fall or the Autumnal Equinox.  I've already started to enjoy posts on Facebook from some Halloween and Fall pages that I follow.  I've also been planning some Halloween things with my daughter already.

This desire for the new season has pushed me to work on editing my poems for my book of poetry project since my overall theme is nature and the seasons.  Also, I had so much fun playing with Haiku recently that I found myself re writing a longer poem as a simple Haiku.  I did this because the original poem was unfinished, I was still inspired by it, but I was stuck.

The poem began as an exercise in using descriptive language and words.  I wanted to convey the beauty of colors as they change from Summer green to Fall's reds/golds/rusts, etc.  My original was a complicated mess and, although I can still remember the exact tree that inspired it, I had lost my direction.  To move forward with the piece, I found myself focusing on the image in my memory.  I studied the shape and colors, which were in full transition, still displaying Summer while Fall was edging it's way in.

After about an hour of painful rewriting attempts, I used the "strikethrough" feature in Word and crossed out everything, leaving it on the page as a reminder of my failure, as well as a resource for words I still liked.  This is when I began reviewing my Haiku notes feeling that a u-turn was called for.

I stared at the formula, 5-7-5, total of 17 and typed "Summer."  I stared at that a while, then hit return twice and typed "Fall." I looked at that for a while then started to insert short phrases before and after these words until they formed something meaningful.

My next step was a bit more difficult, I started paring things down to match up with my Haiku formula, 5-7-5, total of 17.  I was actually starting to like this poem now.  Next I began changing out words to fit and then words that we more descriptive or telling.  Yes, I pulled out the old Thesaurus to find shorter or better words.  Finally, I had what I thought was my finished piece and read it for my daughter.  Her reaction was lukewarm.  "You've done better" she said.

So, I picked this up again today, two weeks later, and below is my final product.  I like it much better than all of it's previous incarnations.

Summer to Fall

September 8, 2017

Summers luscious greens

Answering Fall’s charming chill

Turn warm, red and gold.

The photo isn't an exact depiction of my original inspiration, however, it does give a sense of the color change that I inspired me in the first place.  I think I'm starting to get the hang of Haiku.  

Now that I've started, I have to keep the inspiration coming and work on more editing.  I don't think it's unreasonable to find new inspiration for a piece when you're editing.  Perhaps inspiration is a key ingredient in editing for me that I need to explore some more.  I'll share my results with you.  

Enjoy the new season and watch for more editing posts.  I hope you share your thoughts and/or poems with me in the comments.

Compiling a Book of Poems Post #2

Editing, editing, editing.  I've been editing poems for my book and going back over all my poems multiple times since my last post.  After I made a list of the poems I consider "Complete" I put them into categories to see what kind of material I had to work with.  From this exercise I determined that most of my "Completed" work had to do with the seasons or nature in some way.

This prompted me to look through all my work to see if I could find any other poems about nature or the seasons to bolster my book.  I added a number of unfinished poems to my list and brought my total to 63.  Of these poems, 30 are about nature or the seasons.  Most of these new poems need some editing or rewriting.  This is what I've been doing for the last week or more.

By the way, I'm by no means finished with this part of the process and am still determined to put a book together.  Now I'll be focusing on more poems with nature and the seasons as themes.  I'd like to have approximately 40 poems for this book.

In the process of editing and completing some of my poems, I've come up with some nice pieces and want to share some with you.

Autumn Gusts

Leaves dart across the ground

Like schoolboys chasing a ball

They flip and turn and spin

Like tumbling gymnasts.

Frantically, leaves fly

Like birds rising from a lake

Pushed by Autumn gusts

High into the air.

Color splashed branches dance feverishly

Like teens at a concert

Arms waving in the air

Moving in one rhythm.

I found myself practicing the use of metaphor and simile trying to get this one just right.  This next poem has a very different feel.  This rewrite about a heavy Spring snow is very different from my original, but I do like this version better.  

Spring Snow

Frozen crystals dance easily

Weightless

Swirling

In a dervish.

Thick, like fluff, they fall

Recklessly

Tossed

In a wind.

Landing, they join, cling in close

Layering

Combining

Like a mantle.

Heavy, pressing down, young limbs bend

Sagging

Droopy

Bowing down.

Brightened, the crystals sparkle in sunlight

Glimmering

Melting

Dripping down.

I started this post months ago and have sadly not worked on editing poems since that time.  Life derails me sometimes which is frustrating.  Many things are happening around here.  However, I have been inspired to write about the Sun and Moon today because of the "Great American Eclipse."  

Yes, the eclipse was almost complete for those of us in the greater Denver Metro area.  I'm going to be working on a few new pieces to add to my collection for this book.  I think they'll add something special.  

So, I'll leave this post for now on the editing theme and hope that you enjoy these two re writes.  I promise to have a few new pieces for you soon that highlight the celestial bodies involved in today's spectacle.  

Have a splendid day and keep writing!

First Day of Fall Birthday Writing Prompt

So, the convergence of things today makes it extra special for me.  It's the uncommon occasion when my birthday is on the First Day of Fall.  I woke to a wonderful breakfast with my daughter and we watched a special episode of a favorite show together before I left for work.  Then I decided to write something and found this writing prompt picture online.  Below is my short piece inspired by these two young fishermen.

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“Aww do I have to get up?!” moaned Dave as he hunkered further under his covers.  Only the glow of the digital clock illuminated the room. 

“Yes!” Jason implored as he shook Dave’s shoulder.  “It’s Mom’s birthday and we’re making dinner, remember?!”  Jason stood back as Dave finally peeked out from the covers voluntarily.

“This is the best time to fish. If we wait, they’ll all have swum away.  Now get up!”  Turning on his heel, Jason left the room.

Dave swung his feet over the side of his bed and reached for his pants.  Pulling them on he stood up and fastened them.  Wrestling a shirt over his head, he finished dressing by the backdoor where Jason stood waiting, tapping his foot. 

Down at the river, the sun was barely a glow on the horizon when they threw in their lines.  Now they wait.  And wait they did.  It seemed like forever ‘til one of them got a bite. 

“It’s as if they know how important this is and they’re not going to bite!” Dave exclaimed painfully.  “Why does this always happen?!”

“Just relax.  They’ll bite.”  Jason said calmly as he moved his line a bit.

And who got the first bite as the sun was now fully over the horizon? Dave.  He felt a great yank that jerked him forward.  “Wow, this is a big one!”

Jason dropped his line and reached out to grab Dave’s.  They both tugged and Dave started to reel in the big fish.  They both gasped as the fish jumped fully out of the water.  The sun glistened on its scales as it arched and dove back in, wriggling and pulling.

Excited, Jason grabbed their net and took a step into the cold water.  Dave pulled a few more times and cranked the reel. 

With one fell swoop, Jason caught the fish in the net, “Woohoo!” he hollered!

“We did it! No, you did it!  This’ll feed half the town!”  Jason yelled.

Dave stood there, awestruck.  He’d never caught anything that size before.  All he could do was stand and stare, savoring the moment.  Jason pulled out his camera and took a picture of Dave.  Then he tossed the camera at Dave.

“Hey, get a picture of this.” 

The camera almost fell, but Dave caught it on the way down.  Shaking off his reverie, Dave aimed the lens at Jason and snapped a couple, then put the camera in his pocket.

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I hope you like this little ditty.  I've never fished before and that's kind of why I selected this picture as a prompt.  If you're inspired and write something out, please share it.  

Happy Fall!  Here's another lovely picture for your enjoyment or to use as another prompt.

Back in the Swing in Spring

It's been a terribly long time since I've had the inclination or inspiration or time to put pen to page or fingers to the keyboard for the creation of a new poem, story or other creative writing endeavor.  

Recently, I was inspired by my westward morning drive from Arvada to Louisville.  The Spring in Colorado, along the Front Range, can create a beautiful tableau for one's viewing pleasure.  A particular morning a few weeks ago was spectacular, simple and inspiration for me.

Below is my final poem that will, hopefully, provide an insight into my experience that day.

Daily Masterpiece

By Kimberly L. McClune

May 26, 2016

Springs morning, a blank canvas on the western horizon,

Emerges from the night

Revealing Nature’s daily masterpiece.

Crystal clear blue water color tints the sky

Virtually transparent,

Polished and perfect, like a sapphire.

Clean white paper, cut

As if by a child with scissors

Pasted with sticky fingers,

Creates a rim of bleached peaks.

Dirt, leaves, rocks and sticks

Mixed in a puddle

Tossed by the handful,

Make layers of mottled, hills against the paper.

This, Nature’s daily masterpiece,

Frameless and unaffected by man,

The freedom of creation.

Writing this poem reminded of how much I like a good writing prompt to inspire me to write, even if what I write turns out to be junk.  After all, don't we learn more from making mistakes?

So here's a good prompt to put a spring in your pen:

This image gives me the creeps a bit and also pulls a few good story ideas out of my lazy brain.  For instance, is this the Invisible Man's girlfriend or sister? Take a gander at this and see what ideas you come up with.  Perhaps try setting a timer and seeing what you can come up with in 15 minutes. Or share this with a friend and challenge each other to come up with a 200 word story about this image.  Another good idea is to see how many genres of writing you can use to create different written pieces about this image, a poem, a short story, a caption, a slogan for an advertisement, or even the outline for a novel.

So, keep writing.  Maybe write something from this picture prompt and make a comment to let me know what you came up with.

Have a great day!

Lyrics

This is just a fun blog to share some of my favorite Christmastime songs with you and to get you thinking about lyrics and how they can bring meaning to music.  Song lyrics are like poems, and songs are a marriage of words and music, two of my most favorite things. 

The lyrics of Christmas and holiday songs are special.  From the spiritual to the fun loving, all of them evoke certain images and feelings in anyone.  Even those who aren’t religious/spiritual, enjoy these songs because they resonate with joy, fun, love and hope. 

I have a lot of favorite Christmas carols and songs.  Some are favorites because of childhood memories.  Others are favorites for personal or spiritual reasons. 

A Christmas Carol favorite is Away in a Manger.  As a small child I loved that there was a lullaby for Jesus.  I remember singing it to my dolls at Christmas when I got ready for bed.

My parents had a number of albums of Christmas from different countries.  From the Christmas in England album I learned that there was another melody for Away in a Manger. This alternate melody has become my favorite.  The lyric remains the same.

Away in a manger no crib for a bed

The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.

The stars in the sky looked down where he lay

The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the poor baby wakes

But little Lord Jesus no crying He makes.

I love thee Lord Jesus look down from the sky

And stay by my cradle ‘til morning is nigh.

Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay

Close by me forever, and love me, I pray.

Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care

And fit us for heaven to live with Thee there.

What tremendous memories a song and its lyric can retrieve from hidden secrets that lie deep within each of us.  I find myself singing this song when I feel stressed or out of touch with my spiritual self.  There is a calm that comes from placing yourself  as a child at the feet of ones God.

My favorite Christmas fun song is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  This is the first holiday special I remember watching on television when I was little back in the 60’s. 

Nowadays, I love to sing this song with my daughter.  We’ve been signing it since she was tiny.  We always start by singing out the names of the reindeer, that’s her favorite part.

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen

Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen.

But do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer

Had a very shiny nose

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glowed.

All of the other reindeer

Used to laugh and call him names

They never let poor Rudolph

Join in any reindeer games.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve

Santa came to say,

“Rudolph with your nose so bright

Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”

Then how the reindeer loved him

As they shouted out with glee,

“Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer

You’ll go down in history.”

Who doesn’t enjoy this simple story?  It’s one of many songs that were turned into television specials for children.  Some others include Frosty the Snowman and Santa Claus is Coming to Town.  These started out as fun children’s songs for the holiday and became endearing, long lasting holiday television shows.  If not for the gifted lyricists, these songs would never have been made into shows. 

Do you have a favorite holiday song, poem or story?  Do you return to that favorite every year to bring the memories, feelings and images back as part of your celebration?

Feel free to share with me in the comments.  I’d love to hear about your favorites.  Happy holidays!  Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah!  Happy Kwanzaa!  And a pleasant greeting to all who celebrate in any way at this time of year!

When There's Not Much Time to Write

I've been so busy lately with my job search, taking care of my daughter and doing some blog writing for others that I haven't done much poetry writing lately.  I have jotted down a few that I have been working on and wanted to share a seasonal one today.

I can't remember what prompted me to start this one, but I finished it today with renewed interest.  I seem to remember not knowing where I wanted this to go when I first began to write it out.  I like where it ended up. I hope you do as well.

Midnight Walk

By Kimberly L McClune

October 22, 2012

I took a midnight walk

On the spookiest night of the year,

Past unlit houses

Under barren trees where

Darkness lends a new perspective.

The trees,

Whose once lush and full canopy

Would shade the moons light,

Now gape as coloring, drying leaves

Depart, clearing pathways

For descending moonbeams.

The moon is near her fullest

Hovering magically within

A black sky laden with clouds

Masking the stars,

Threatening reflected beams.

Across an open field,

The moon escapes her veil.

She tats a lacey trim

At the tree-lined edge.

Beams cast down between

Barren branches weave

Delicate patterns on illuminated grass.

Once familiar objects

Now only darkened outlines.

A mailbox looks like a man,

A pot of flowers like an animal.

Even the trees

Become eerie specters in

Haunting moonlight.

Walking at midnight

On the spookiest night

Gives one a new perspective.

**

I must admit that it was easy to complete this one today.  I have been sitting at the computer listening to the trees rustle in the wind for a while now.  Autumn is in full swing with crisp air, sunny days, and crunching leaves beneath your feet.  This is the time of year that I feel the most inspired.  You will likely see more posts from me in the next two months, despite my job search activities, as my writing notebook becomes filled with ideas, half written works and jotted notes.

Enjoy the poem and enjoy the Fall.

Two new poems

These two poems are seasonal.

The first I wrote after continual requests from my daughter to write about the pumpkin patch the kids at her school had planted and tended all summer.  They just finished harvesting all their pumpkins this last week.

The second was written this evening and I am going to submit it for possible publication.

It is a work in progress so be kind with comments.  Constructive comments are always welcome.

Enjoy them both.  They have been fun to put together.

Our Pumpkin Patch

By Kimberly L. McClune

October 11, 2011

Just out the door

Down the stairs

Lies our pumpkin patch.

Seeds planted early

Sprouted in summer

Then became leafy vines.

All summer we watched

Little vines grow and

Leaves spring out,

Covering our garden.

As Summer faded

Vines ceased wandering.

They twisted and curled.

Deep green leaves fanned out

As our little patch expanded.

The fan leaves

Hide our small treasures.

Almost colorless,

Tiny pumpkins peek out

Looking for the sun.

By Summer's end

Vines overtook their bed

Draping down the sides

Onto the sidewalk.

One adventurous vine

Crept to the stairs.

Will it come up to visit?

Fall is coming!

Fall is coming!

Heralds our little patch.

Ripened pumpkins

Hide in tangled vines.

Lifting fan leaves,

One, two, three…

We pluck our treasures.

Although they're small

Our harvest is big enough.

*********

Christmas Wonderland

By Kimberly L. McClune

October 16, 2011

Colors blink across the ceiling

Flashes glow on the floor and walls.

We sit together enjoying the tree,

Humming favorite holiday tunes.

A handful of personal gifts

Placed beneath adorned boughs

Quiet words bid good night

Excited feet hurry to bed.

Heads lay against soft pillows

Waiting for sleep.

Will the jolly old man really come?

What will morning bring?

Sleep arrives and the night glows.

Snow filled clouds release their bounty

Into the cold night air.

A crystal veil shrouds the landscape.

Tiny gems glisten in lamp light

Icy fairy dust spins and drifts

Swirls and dances on chill winds

Alighting gently, quietly, peacefully.

Silent, secret snow gathers

Rooftops, branches, fences, lawns

All decorated with glittering crystals.

Snow ceases as dawn approaches.

A special light entices young eyes

Little noses press to windowpanes

Tiny hands embrace cold sills.

Behold a Christmas wonderland.

The night deposit of crystal joy

Ignites bewildered excitement.

Crystal frosted windows

Frame the delightful winter scene.

The landscape is transformed

No more dreary gray views

An enchanted world awaits.

With a gasp, the tree, the presents!!

Has he been here?

Little feet jump and prance

They fly to find Christmas waiting.

Surely this is a magical day.

Poem Revision

After sharing this piece with my Writer's Circle friend and my Dad, I believe the revisions based on their critiques and a fresh look are very good.  I hope you enjoy this version.

Crabapple Picking

By Kimberly L. McClune

September 13, 2011

Across the lane, awaiting branches dip down.

Dotted with ripe redness

The fruit laden limbs beckon us.

Bags in hand, prepared to claim our booty.

Fresh sweetness surrounds our senses

As Autumns goodness lies before.

Under a delicious canopy, the shiny red fruit,

Guarded by lush green leaves,

Peeks out,

Fingers tempted to pluck them.

A small thrill makes its way down our arms

Past our elbows, to our fingers

As we reach for first crabapples of the season.

The firm, ripe crimson apple, tinted with gold,

Eases gently from its bough.

Some drop to the ground as the branches shake.

Others cling, stubbornly, waiting to be plucked.

Reaching further inward and upward,

The maze of branches calls us to look deeper.

More treasure waits above.

Bags filling, and branches lightening,

The sun slowly makes its way across the heavens.

Woven leaf patterns play on grass,

On our shoulders,

We stretch up through the canopy,

Looking skyward for more luscious treats.

Round or oval; small or large; pear shaped or cherry-like,

Colors dance from pale reds to deep purples,

            Through striated gold and crimson.

Marveling at beauty so earthy, yet delicate,

            We examine each tiny wonder.

Awestruck, scent bearing breezes rustle through boughs

            Bringing Autumns true essence.

Each moment more exhilarating

Bags become heavy and full.

Our voices, carried on those scented breezes,

            Reach flowers afield.

Yonder trees answer with whispering sighs.

As the pilgrimage moves from tree to tree,

Unburdened limbs are free, reaching skyward.

We fill bag after bag, dragging them behind

            Along still green grasses.

Surveying our loot as the sun nears journey's end,

            Satisfied mumblings and laughs fill the breeze.

Riches loaded onto a cart and proudly paraded.

Plans for sweet and savory delicacies fill our thoughts,

            Plunder is borne homeward.

Revised September 25, 2011

New Poems

Here are two new poems out of several that I wrote recently.  The first is from notes I jotted down yesterday morning as I watched the sunrise.  Yes I know yesterday was Saturday and there were no commuters or students, but that is where the poem took me.  The second is a telling of picking crabapples with a friend.  We actually picked three different times last week on our lunch hour.  I sort of rolled it all together.  Enjoy.  Feel free to make comments.

New Day Dawns

By Kimberly L. McClune

September, 18, 2011

Clouds reflect the dawn

Breezes caress the leaves

Colors tint the sky.

Squirrels skitter on branches

Children trek to bus stops

Commuters rush to work.

Watching by the window

The day unfolds before me

How will I fit in today?

Crabapple Picking

By Kimberly L. McClune

September 13, 2011

Across the lane, awaiting branches dip down.

Dotted with ripe redness

The fruit laden limbs beckon us.

Bags in hand, we come prepared to claim our booty.

Fresh sweetness surrounds our senses

As Autumns goodness lies before.

Under a delicious canopy the shiny red fruit,

Guarded by lush green leaves,

Peeks out,

Tempting our fingers to pluck them.

A small thrill makes its way down our arms

Past our elbows, to our fingers

As we reach for our first crabapples of the season.

The firm, ripe crimson, tinted with gold,

Eases gently from its bough.

Some drop to the ground as the branches shake.

Others cling, stubbornly, waiting to be plucked.

Reaching further inward and upward,

The maze of branches calls us to look deeper.

More treasure waits above.

Bags filling, and branches lightening,

The sun slowly makes its way across the heavens.

Woven leaf patterns play on the grass and on our shoulders

As we stretch up beneath the canopy.

Looking skyward for more luscious treats.