Echoing Hope

Ancient grains of hope, stories survive
within the hollow bones of crows.

Legends splinter, escaping through cracks
as caws collapse against night.

Did you hear that?
Shhhhhhh…

Old crows caw history’s quilt, stitching stars to clay
somewhere between marrow and loft
where hearts crawl open
echoing grains of hope.

Brenda Warren 2015

210

Visit The Sunday Whirl

Riddle Poem

flickering roots potatoes
with eyes fixed to stories
scandalous
indecent
murderous tales told
in color and light
tales that break for product placement

we sit for hours
to cultivate the vegetables
we become

Brenda Warren 2015

The prompt was to write a poem that is a riddle.

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My Backyard

Out back
where the garden bench
beckons
a wild tangle of roses
spices the air.

Brenda Warren 2015

Day 12, and I’m running out of poetic steam. This picture is from last summer. I’ll miss my Montana roses, but the bench is coming along for the ride.

Garden

After a Day of Packing

Packing our belongings,
going through our stuff,
you think we’d overcome the need
to never have enough.

I won’t say we’re hoarders
but as boxes pile high,
we’re both inclined to take a torch
and bid our stuff goodbye.

Brenda Warren 2015

Writing Advice

Write about coffee.
Write about dogs.
Write about murmuring starlings.

Write about money.
Write about love,
just be sure to kill your darlings.

Brenda Warren 2015

If you’ve read Stephen King’s book, On Writing, you understand the importance of killing your darlings.

False Little Smile

Her false little smile disturbs me
it hides her truth from view.
She forgives all the people around her
for transgressions they did not do.

The world inside her head defines
her counterfeit presentation,
leaving the rest of us hoping she seeks
a mental examination.

Brenda Warren 2015

Insomnia on Day 7

my bed eats sleep for breakfast
it’s hungry at 3 a.m.
it tosses and turns me over
then changes its mind again

my bed likes me over easy
my bed likes me sunny side up
mostly it wants me scrambled
finally I just get up

Brenda Warren 2015

Spring Break is no more. I wrote a quick ditty too early this morning, and will check out the daily prompt later.

Morning’s Mirror

Morning sighs its arrival
breathing sleep aside.
Denying her charms
you slumber,
holy in repose.

Silent, I watch
as the dog curls into your side
nuzzling the last of night
beside you.

Shifting my weight, I rise,
turning to your form’s reflection,
barely perceptible in dawn’s
tenuous light.

I stand here watching
until color chimes its way
through the blinds,
urging your departure,
while I imprint morning’s mirror
in my mind.

Brenda Warren 2015

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Today’s prompt asks for an aubade, a form that explores lovers’ morning farewells.