Barbara's Meanderings: The Rest of April Poem A Day Poems: Days 23,24,25,26,27,28.29,30

I didn't think I could do it, but I was able to write 60 poems for April!!! The ones I am posting here were done for Poetic Asides and they are posted there for anyone to see in the comments for each day. The others were done for World Poetry Open Mic and they are posted on their website on Facebook for each day. I hope you have enjoyed reading these. I just finished writing them today.
I can't believe April is over and it really doesn't feel like May at all with 50 degree days and rain. Hoping the sun will come out soon.

Here they are:

April 23

Prompt: Write a poem about footwear, any kind

Red Espadrilles

They were my favorite shoes

the sides were formed with string

wound around them

with red cotton uppers that let

your toes peek out from a hole

platform shoes that felt as light

as wearing no shoes and for me

this was such a rare occurrence

they hold a special place in my memory

my red espadrilles worn without socks

or stockings with bare legs

newly shaven and nails freshly painted

so the toes that peeked out sported

reds or corals each time

love is a small word for how I felt

about those gorgeous, sexy shoes

and I would have them today except

for a puppy mishap when he decided

these would make a great chew toy

and gnawed off most of the string

leaving the luscious red espadrilles

as if a war had been fought on them

such a predicament since my newfie, Flash,

when I confronted him with the deed

looked at me with puppy eyes

and really, who could be angry

with a sweet, black ball of fuzz

who came at me and licked me

every chance he could get

and really wasn’t it my fault for leaving

them out and not cherishing them

as I should have done

and I forgave him for the deed

petting his head and scratching him

under the chin — no reprimand from me

though my heart was broken for I had lost

my brilliant red espadrilles and besides

when we moved I never did find the other one.

Shoes are shoes, but a dog like Flash

was a treasure and he lasted a lot longer

than those espadrilles.

April 24

Prompt: Write about something that is lost and has been regained

Temporary Garment

For awhile happiness flew away

the free spirit inside of me ceased to exist

and was replaced with an antiquated version

a crone with stringy hair and frowning mouth

sadness weighed her down as if she were

carrying a mountain of sorrow

she ruled my days with her bouts of tears

and sad reminiscences of a man no longer here

sweet remembrances of him filled my days

and pushed sleep from my nights

I struggled with this persona

slipping out of it to greet the outer world

yet donned the presence once more in the

private world of my own space

all the while trying each day to move the weight

of the sadness she carried

until finally one day I found I could

slip off this version of sadness and remain at peace

for I had discovered my happiness had lived

inside of me all this time

protected by the cushion of comfort my mind had

conceived and I had not lost it

instead it had been misplaced

under all of the misery

of my sorrowful self who could now be dissolved

for I had found my freedom and with it came

the renewal of my happy self

though the sadness lived inside of me

I no longer needed to parade it

as if it were my only garment

April 25

Prompt: Write a poem about exercise or about an exercise machine

Don’t Think About Exercise

Like anything else exercise when

thought about too much

becomes a chore you push to the side

like washing the dishes — if you think too much

the pile will appear to be a mountain

too high to climb

but climb you must and

you roll up your sleeves and begin

to wash one plate or one pan after another

and you don’t dare think of exercise

for it will stay just a thought

if you don’t begin the routine

where you find your clothes and put them on

then the task becomes doable

and you stop thinking

your mind is on auto drive as you

gather the things you will need,

your IPad, water, remember to put on

your sneakers and you are ready

not thinking you walk down the hall,

convenient, and find your machine,

the one you always use

familiar and comforting,

like a well worn easy chair

your legs pump up and down

as you get into the rhythm of the workout

and you don’t think about

what your body is doing, because it is automatic

up and down your legs go and your arms go back

and forth holding the handles and pushing your

body to move faster and faster or going against

the pressure of increased tension or height

not really thinking as your body absorbs the

activity and you move in a practiced motion

up and down your legs go and back and forth

your arms go as you move and move

ignoring the wetness on your face and pushing

your body to its outer limits

until the machine ends and you realize

you have spent almost an hour exercising

how much fun to fool your brain.

April 26

Prompt: Write a love poem and/or an anti-love poem

The Seeds of Your Love

You planted the seeds of your love in my heart

watered them with the sweetness of your soul

and tended them with the goodness of your heart

these seeds sprouted and spread their beauty

throughout my life as it blossomed in

the garden of our love

yes weeds sometimes choked off the growing plants

but we pulled them out and allowed it to grow stronger

as we admired the lush foliage as the years continued

the flowers continued to flourish as they formed

new plants who carried this love inside of them

cuttings from the original plant who thrived

if love could truly grow plants my darling

we would have had homes covered in ivy and trailing roses

perfuming the air we breathed

Now though you are not here to water and tend

the seeds of your love they grow on their own

though they miss the presence of their gardener

April 27

Prompt: Write a poem about a take off, maybe from work or taking off in an airplane, etc.

Taking Off

Today I had to take off from work, from my daily life

my mind is whirling as I remember the day

two years ago to the moment when I lost him

a loss so devastating it turned my world upside down

the down remaining for months as an empty space

the place where he belonged a void now

and this was where it stayed until

time paved over the pain and it lay there

beneath the surface like the molten magma

waits patiently beneath the earth’s crust

churning and boiling and awaiting the crack

then today on the second anniversary of his passing

a crack opened and the sadness poured out

covering all like the lava of an open volcanic eruption

and caused my mind to sleep under the volume

of the immense feeling that had laid beneath the

surface as my life went about its ways

time to take off from everything and instead

sift through the rubble of my remembrances.

April 28

Prompt: Finish this title: Important______

Important Moments

How do we know what is important

as our life sifts through each day

the moments pass by too quickly

some seeming so slight

and yet on second thought

those small moments

appear as gems in our life

not big ones like graduations or births

these are momentous and celebrated

but what of the times your eyes met

and you knew you had someone who

loved you across the room

or when you spent the day on the sofa

dozing and watching a baseball game

with the one you loved by your side

or the many times you held his hand

and felt the joy of belonging with him

or the countless moments of bliss

you never counted as the days passed

were these important

and did you let them slip by as

you walked through life like raindrops

falling on you and not knowing which

one will cause your eyes to close

with the splash. Unimportant moments

that splashed you with a tiny drip at the

time.

April 29

Prompt: Write a haphazard poem, about a haphazard situation or the way the poem is formed

Zag Zig Life

My life zags when it should zig

a haphazard collection of days

teetering sometimes on the

brink of disaster

no routine in sleep patterns

staying up late and waking up late

avoiding the morning

for the morning holds discomfort

haphazardly getting through the days

moment to moment balancing

finding no rhyme or reason in the

spacing of things and still never

feeling balanced

as if I were playing a long game of

Jenga and losing badly

pieces pulled suddenly from the

wrong place and hoping the whole

thing won’t cave in and fall on the

table of my life

April 30

Prompt: Write a dead end poem - about any dead end

Cul de Sac

Once we lived near a cul de sac

homes of ordinary size and colors

surrounded it forming a lovely gate

children played there

in a cocooned playground

safe from the cars that zoomed on the

other streets and safe from the world

their own comfort zone as they explored

the world around them

playing on adjacent driveways

as they careened on their bikes or

ran up and down shouting and

waving their arms for a game

never discovered

children didn’t notice the adults

watching all the time

even if they were in their homes

waiting to hear the sound that

would make them leave and

examine the crisis

a smooth flowing river of children

on safe concrete away from the

danger of the oncoming vehicles

unaware of the beauty of the blooming trees

or the lush green grass growing on

each lawn for their bare feet to enjoy

their sounds a continuous soundtrack

to my life as the pleasant hum emanated

from the filled cul de sac

Then it changed and became a siren wail

and I found her between the mangled bikes

my wild will o the wisp child on the

cold cement of the sloped driveway

a melange of legs and bodies beneath

the pile of bicycles

wrenching her from between her

only way to fly through the neighborhood

now lost as she limped from the scene,

I never realized this was the time

she would place in her book of memories

paste the joy of riding down hills and

gliding around with ease on her bike

into the scrapbook of her life

for her this was the close to childhood

her cul de sac, her dead end

Until the next time, my next guest author will be Judy Alter on May 16, 2016. She is the author of The Gilded Cage, which is all about Chicago during the early days of the city. She will also be a guest on my radio show in August.

Also, for anyone who didn't know this, my poem won an award in the Nassau County Poet Laureate's Society Annual Poetry Contest and I will be accepting that award on Saturday, May 14. I will be posting the poem soon.

In some ways I am sad April is over. Spending so much time on poetry was a lot of fun. I hope all of you were able to either write or read as much poetry as you could during the month. But don't give it up because April is over. I love the spring, because it inspires me to write all the time!