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Memoir, poetic narrative, Poetry, reflection, travel, women

Day 20 ProlificPulse Mo Po: captures a fleeting nature of happiness.

A Moment of Unexpected Happiness© arlene s bice

It was off to Framingham, Mass one day
driving her treasured Silverado, Anne and I went
while soaking up the unfamiliarity of a new town
bam! back into another pick-up truck, I bumped
ouch, at a traffic light I didn’t see coming

‘twas a small thing to do actually, no harm done
the young fellow, pleasant enough, forgiveness
we smiled, said thank you and on our way
settled into lodgings, we had work to do
pick up furniture the next day, return it
to Jersey for a friend, a favor completed

our next stop, find a tavern for lunch
oddly, open the door under the sign
steps leading up, a second-floor place?
we cautiously took step by step
what were we eerily walking into
opened the door at the top and
surprise! our handsome Irish fellow
behind the bar with his brothers too!

what chance could this happen
a reason for sure, a meaning to it
a reunion as if we were family
and we met all of his, cheerfully
drinks on the house, shared foods
a memorable event to carry away

take care of business the next morn
travel back home again, a memory
savored, never explained, just held
I miss my friend, gone so long ago
yet our adventures still live on
in words written to share with others.

Anne & me in reenactment attire Rev War in my bookshop 1997.

art, heart, home, Poetry, women's stories

Day 16 ProlificPulse Mo Po: a poem that explores the concept of home and belonging.

Home & Heart! © arlene s bice

Sometimes I come home
flop into a chair
exhausted, whew!
a glance around shows
crystals in the window
plants, objet d’art, paintings
all familiar
chosen carefully by me
reflections of my life
items I hold dear
surrounds me
with warmth
I’m home.

A new turf
moved into
a stranger raises
a hand, waves,
shouts a ‘hi’
a smile
it feels good
my heart says
here
I belong
here.

aging, Poetry, reflection

Day 15 ProlificPulse Mo Po: passage of time and the inevitability of aging.

As Time Passes© arlene s bice

So I see it my way as I’ve always done
not aging so much as ripening, maturing
as the fruit on the tree, tomato on the plant
coming to a fullness, adding experiences,
knowledge I didn’t know was incomplete
working toward, not perfection, a peak
level off, live more on memories made
now that quieter ones come along or
maybe I’m selective of time used
ahh, I love the memories I kept.

childhood, Ireland, European travel, Australia, Cairns horse racing,, journaling, Poetry, reflection, travel, women, women's stories

Day 14 ProlificPulse Mo Po: poem of wanderlust and adventure.


photo by Danny b-unsplash

It’s True © arlene s bice

At birth it was obvious to Mom
this is the one whose destiny is
to soar, to seek, to blossom with
travel; an adventure gene glowed
like a brilliant star shining within
you will mingle with others, it said
of different ethnic customs, beliefs
you will taste foods of many people
create friendships; gather knowledge
you will form friendships from afar

it’s true, it began early in life, a joy
it remains deep in my heart still
it’s restlessness, a wandering mind
feet itchy with sand-filled shoes
a thirst for ever more, again, again

writing it down may bring content
there, I did that, been there, next?

childhood, forest, Memoir, reflection, tranquility, women writers

Day 13 ProlificPulse Mo Po: explore the relationship between humanity and nature.

photo by michael krahn

Into the Forest © arlene s bice

In childhood, my forest was a Woods
more than a copse of trees less than a forest
nestled between two developed pieces of land
a special place that I walked, later rode my bike
five blocks, climb a tree, cozy myself in a union
sometimes lucky to find no one else thereabouts
read a comic book from my back pocket
the big boys off playing chosen action games
beyond my size, age, and being a girl

ah, it planted a seed, a memory of warmth
where comfort is found in the arms of a tree

it is still there; I drive to a nearby state park
a forest much larger; I don’t climb trees anymore
but find a fallen log or stump of an old one
bring out my sketch pad or lined journal
pencil or pen in hand soaking up peace,
tranquility, restoration of self slowly comes
a ray of sunlight may filter through the trees
rustle of dry leaves and crickets are chorus
birds quiet, waiting to see what I will do

the magic of Mother Nature, still works.

dreams, Poetry, reflection, women writers, women's stories

Day 12 ProlificPulse Mo Po: a dream you’ve had in vivid detail through poetry.

Dreaming the House of Change © arlene s bice

Repeatedly, it began with my house
of early setting in
back wall completely blown away,
exposed
rooms crooked, uneven,
empty
reconstruction not working,
lopsided
a ramp leading to entrance
crumbling
weatherbeaten, life beaten
a vision of my marriage

this repetitive dream alerted me
change was coming
it did, each time.

general, Poetry

Day 11 ProlificPulse Mo Po: Capture the essence of a specific season or time of year in your poem.

Can it Be © arlene s bice

Along the roadsides dressed with hangings of wisteria
bunched together turning drab trees of sticks and bones
into scenes of beauty, heavy in the air is the musky scent,
it wafts in the window as I whizz by the fields, now green
never too busy am I, to ignore often passed over charm
can you possibly not feel or know the season revealed

Photo by Annie Spratt=unsplash