A Perfect Morning


A cool breeze under mostly clear skies. 

Home brewed iced coffee. Black and bold.

Sitting in the garden watching commuters go by…

But I’ve still got time.

Be well,

Monty


Lady in Wood



Be well,

Monty


Something’s Strange in the Neighborhood


I keep encountering fish upon my morning walks. Different fish. Different locations. But…fish. It’s strange and it takes my mind to strange paces too…


Be well,

Monty


Alt-Scenes From This Morning’s Walk



Be well,

Monty


Bloom



Be well,

Monty


The Critter


I took this picture over the summer and have been trying to figure out what to do with it ever since. I’ve now come to a realization that the picture is perfect as it is. It just needed a title.

The Critter


Be well,

Monty


Quarantine Blooms (2022 NaPoWriMo #09)

May might be here but I’m still working through the NaPoWriMo – 30 Poems in 30 Days prompts since I discovered them late.

Prompt 09

Write a poem in the form of a nonet.

NaPoWriMo.net

Ah, the nonet is back! I recently learned this form from the poetry scavenger hunt hosted by A Different Perspective. Check here for the form rules and my first attempt at the form: The Crescent Moon’s Gentle Bend.

I decided to play with the form a little and add a second ‘reverse nonet’ stanza and included some of the “real time” views that I have while writing. I hope you enjoy.


Quarantine Blooms

Flowers blooming inside locked gates
Alive in red, yellow, and pinks
Against a backdrop of green
Imprisoned by beauty
Rooted together
In the rich soil’s
Grip beneath
The blue
Sky


The
Birds call
From the lines
Asking why we
Don’t fly over the
Padlocked gate’s rusty spires
Urging us ‘let go your fears’
‘Spread your wings and join us above’
‘The garden looks beautiful from here


Be well,

Monty


“fish prints”



Be well,

Monty

Word Garden

My community in Shanghai is currently locked down due to Covid restrictions for two weeks. What a blessing to have such a wonderful garden to be “locked-into” to do my writing.


Word Garden

Bamboo bends, sweeping down, lifting my spirits;

Dropped leaves floating in small green puddles of reflection;

Flower-full trees rustle in the breeze, sharing of themselves

fragrantly;

A butterfly flutters,

teasingly;

The dog chases it,

playfully;

All, my muses, I write.



Be well,

Monty

Puddle of Pink

A poem


Puddle of Pink

Drips and blobs of heavy drops

Descending at terminal speed

Not the slightest wind of persuasion

To delay or divert their decent.

Plopping masses pounding

The delicate pink petals

Until so laden they drop

To a puddle of pink.


Be well,

Monty