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Kangaroo, Shoes, Dusted, Volcanic

Once again a fantastically weird mixture of words. There has been a bit of a gap posting these, simply because I forgot to write them. I’m hoping to get the next four written either the end of this week or early next week and that will be it! This is my penultimate set of 3RW poems and is pushing me over the 100 mark, the next few are technically outside the original aim of 100 poems but I made the rules so I can break them…

Hannah from bunsandballs gave me “kangaroo, rose, scrumptious” to work with:

“Nature’s Gifts”
The sky turns rose, flushing
against the red dirt roads.
A man carries his history in his skin –
shoes stepping in footprints to
follow the cross home.
He walks towards the kangaroo
sitting patiently waiting for him,
a signpost to the past.
A meal awaits at the end of the walk.
Fire and water combine to make
scrumptious gourmet feasts.
The people surround and support,
surpassing the food as cities grow
from the ground up,
leaving behind trees in cages at their heart.
Looking hard he can see where it all came from
hints in people’s faces, movements and words.

Jemima gave me “faraway, shoes, Guadalajara” to write a poem with:

“Distant Miracle”
She had waited a lifetime or two
to visit the cathedral in Guadalajara.
From the first time that her Innocent
eyes found the faraway spires on a postcard
she promised herself a visit.
As a girl she dreamt of the saints,
the altars and the sacraments
but she finally entered as an old woman,
tired, wearing re-heeled shoes.
It’s architects rebuilt her as she sat and prayed.

Zoe from BlessedBeeApothecary gave me “yesteryears, dusted, picked” to use:

“Probate”
Treasures picked out of
a wardrobe from yesteryears,
dusted memories.

East Coast Photo on Etsy gave me “terse, volcanic, free” to write with:

“Filigree Wings”
A pendant of volcanic glass,
as clear as her eyes is handed
over at first light.
A birthday gift to be treasured,
and then passed on again.
A terse note held within its structure,
written out by the earth and
committed by the heat.
It allows her to be free,
to think whatever she pleases
held down by no one, not even
the one who gave it to her;
while she carries the note by
her heart pulsing with her pulse.

That’s all for today, the final batch will be on their way soon!

Vick.

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