The Writer’s Arrow

Wishing all my blogging friends a happy and productive week. A little Monday motivation…

TANYA CLIFF

Little quill, on an inkwell, rests. The stationary lives up to its name. Ideas die in wait on a solid oak desk where an empty chair defies its game. Silence echoes your nothings. A woodpecker pecks on your window frame with intensity that rattles his brain. He needs to eat.

The poor starve. Their bellies ache.

“So it is with the world!” you shout into the pillow.

No one hears you from your bed where you scratch notes. The pencil line you draw with those words simply chases its tail around your margins. You break the lead. You crumple the paper and throw it across the room. At least the paper sees some action. It flies through the air and lands just short of your garbage bin. You leave it there with a few of its cousins. You pull up the covers and sleep among your eraser droppings.

Don’t you…

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Renewed

renewed
Nature wastes naught
recalls every dead leaf
that feeds the life of each fresh bud
if past’s ghosts filled her heart’s echo chamber
they would drown out the living beat
of spirit recycled
reawakened
renewed

~

Words and Photography ©2018 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Entry posted in poetry & Rictameter Verse.

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Returning

The air in my corner of the world is crisp with an autumn chill, and the leaves are just starting to turn. I am escaping outside to enjoy it, returning to a favorite place…

TANYA CLIFF

as a child
through woodland wandered
touched the roots
with gentle feet
heard the rumble
wisdom ancient
patience
tapping
riches
deep

grown I walk
through concrete wasteland
trip on cracks
with tired toes
hear the grumbles
people modern
hurried
rushing
vacant
flows

return me now
to verdant fields
surrounding me
the soft wind thrills
heaven pressed
the air’s alluring
nature
soothing
my soul
stills

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.

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Unlocked

unlocked
book’s adventure
eager fingers twist key
mystery of the novel unfolds
a maiden voyage sailed over the swells
rolling waves of turning pages
mind captains the tempest
heart’s fantasy
unlocked

~

Words and Photography ©2018 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Entry posted in poetry & Rictameter Verse.

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A Taste of the Tail

the hawk sits, frozen
still as the one-eyed owl
that watches over the yard
where the squirrel
flits
busy, burying its nuts in the tall flower pots
for cold-weather snacking
on the deck

the hawk moves slightly
nodding its head
as the squirrel darts
jagged, pressing its nails into the oak’s old bark
and climbing for leafy shelter
in the branches

the hawk flies suddenly
stabs its talons
snaps it beak
hungry, disturbs the limbs with its wings,
littering the squirrel’s playground
in a hail of acorns

the squirrel, who saw it coming,
scurries for deep cover
where the leaves are the thickest
and the branches
twist
to
twine,
leaving only a taste of its bushy tail
behind

the one-eyed owl sits on its deck-rail perch,
observant,
and
grins

~

Words and Photography ©2018 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse.

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