http://coosacreek.org/amputated poetry, nature, writing (all writing is the property of the writer and should be considerd copywritten) Sat, 05 Jul 2008 13:34:45 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en thunder opens the sky petals of puce and ochre fall among the trees   and into the wind-bound waves petals gathering together like color to like color   drift like sea foam or algae bloom across the sky and sea   storm clouds border like a garden fence thunder petals fall   listen   Pamela Olson, 7/5/08   This poem was inspired by an early morning thunder storm and Rick Mobbs’ painting, ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/07/05/thunder-opens-the-sky/ July lies ahead poured out like shadows at dusk   the sun’s beams are broad and indifferent searing the air   into white hot rather than blue bound in humidity   the grass dries the herb garden wilts reasoned thoughts stray   only three more months until autumn arrives and the sky turns blue again   Pamela Olson, 7/3/08   This poem was written for Three Word Wednesday http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/07/03/unreasonable-summer/   the doorway beckons dawn pauses as I walk through crickets call for day as shadows retreat slumbering summer awakes   Pamela Olson, 6/29/08     This tanka was written for the prompt “doorways” at One Single Impression http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/29/dawns-door/ the doorway lies before us we wait at the threshold of silence between past and future   to dwell in this threshold holding silence close and dear neither here nor there   wait as the seconds become minutes moving on to months and years silence surrounds silence   take it in and wait until the time comes then-- just breathe and take a ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/28/threshold-of-silence/ the light becomes golden no breeze stirs the oak leaves or pine needles   we wait the thunder rumbles closer   the dog remains alert panting by my side no rain falls—yet   the shadows lengthen beneath the trees along the fence line   we wait listening for the thunder waiting for the storm   Pamela Olson, 6/27/08 http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/27/waiting-for-the-storm/ thin-stripped flat land mountains above waves below always on edge   the ocean digests each rock and pebble shaken loose by wind and rain   fatal erosions rumors of end times war against nature war against man   before the apocalypse spontaneous visions dark dreams then comes the final quake   Pamela Olson, 6/25/08   Written for the prompt at Three Word Wednesday http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/25/end-times/ she dreams each night of the newest finds in her daily haunts of the up-and-coming boutiques   she feels the heft of the chains around her neck aslant on her hip all uncommon rattle   the fabric drapes itself over her slim shoulders and her breastless torso no curves to pull at the lines   will she find the perfect look when she wakes or will she ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/23/fashionista-dreams/ sun obscured clouds gather sky torn between gray and blue wind blows temperature drops seasons change   still— the shadowy summer rises from earth she flirts with the blushing sun the temperature rises the young lovers embrace life and love are born   Pamela Olson, 6/22/08   This poem was written for Rick Mobbs' painting, “The Kiss” at Mine Enemy Grows Older. http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/22/partly-cloudy/   After teal has faded into purple,             after stars begin their journey;             the first step is taken simply— adagio sostenuto. The light is simple and open as the moon rises.   Softly, softly moon lifts her voice;             melody rising and falling on the breeze.             Above the hills she sings her crescendo, falling lower as clouds ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/22/moonlights-sonata-for-beethoven/   The sun flings wide its arms ‘til dusk and dawn almost kiss.   Day stretches out long past its due binding night in Sol’s bright chains.   Night beasts curl in warm hibernation; no time left for the things of life.   Sleep the long day away; wait for the waxing night.   Pamela Olson, 6/21/08 http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2008/06/21/summer-solstice/