During September and October, I was taking a six-week photography workshop online from Andy Ilachinski via Shanti Arts. Didn’t get in much off-topic writing during that time. Quite absorbing.
Also published this date on the Quilted Poetry blog and inspired by a photograph (third one from the top) on Thomas Gable’s post: Spring is Near on the blog When Timber Makes One Still.
reflected in the water
the sunset sky
dark clouds dot the surface
stepping-stones across the lake
Copyright © 2018-07-25, by Lizl Bennefeld.
the colors of springtime
the scent of autumn’s falling leaves
non, je ne regrette rien
© Elizabeth W. Bennefeld, 2018-05-31.
Written in response to Mara Eastern’s (maraeastern[dot]com) post on that date on the discontinuation of WP’s weekly Photo Challenge (among too many other things).
the wind rests quiet on the land
faint sunlight shrinks behind
tree branches and blue clouds
pasted on a blue-grey sky
birds sing summonings
then nestle into nests
for warmth throughout
a night with which the cold
returns too soon
cling to the cold, a shield
against the warming days
Copyright © 2018-05-11, by Lizl Bennefeld.
I decided to go back to yesterday’s poetry prompts list and write a poem to go with my favorite grasshopper photograph.
Brewer: “For today’s prompt, pick an insect (any insect), make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “Praying Mantis,” “Ants,” and “Grasshoppers.” I’ll even except other creepy crawlies, like spiders, slugs, and leeches (shiver). Sorry in advance if this prompt gives you the heebie-jeebies; feel free to use insect repellent in your verse.”
one warm summer day
a debonair grasshopper
dines on a flower
spotting a street photographer
he grins between bites and bows
Copyright © 2018-04-14, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.
Originally published on The Moments Between blog.
Cuyahoga Library prompt: Cleveland poet Russell Atkins describes a backyard that “has hold/ of the throats/ of trees.” Write a poem that personifies your backyard, or the backyard of someone you know, during a particular season of the year.
like an old grave site
the fenced-in garden bed lies
shadowed by bare limbs
last fall’s scattered stalks conceal
shoots of this year’s wildflowers
Copyright © 2018-04-28, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.
NaPoWriMo Prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you specifically to write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live. It may be the high sierra, dusty plains, lush rainforest, or a suburbia of tiny, identical houses – but wherever you live, here’s your chance to bring it to life through the charming mix-and-match methodology of haibun.
A Late Spring
Rabbits have eaten the bark from low Cotoneaster branches, leaving them bare to lingering cold, icy winds, and snow storms. Again this year, the bushes are at risk to dry and die when the heat does come, searing tender leaves. There will be no warm rains to waken grass seed strewn in hope, six months ago. Birds eat the grains, finding no new growth.
dormant flax seeds hide
beneath last autumn’s bent stalks
waiting for summer
Copyright © 2018-04-13, by Lizl Bennefeld.
NaPoWriMo Prompt: “Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem of simultaneity, in which multiple things are happening at once.”
geese cry overhead
the dogs sit up and listen
leaves remain silent
I would fly like those wild birds
fly to be with you again
Copyright © 2018-04-10, by Lizl Bennefeld.
tulips pushing through
loam to newly fallen snow
wait in line for spring
our rabbits, lacking new grass,
nibble tender tulip shoots
Copyright © 2018-04-08, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.
We have a lot of rabbits in our yard and the surrounding neighborhood, which we appreciate, since they provide a lot of exercise for our dogs. First thing in the morning, they are eager to go outside and check for rabbits who’ve stayed out eating past the softer light of sunrise. They have such fun! Especially when the rabbits run off in different directions…or taunt the dogs by making an extra detour around the garden shed before slipping out through the fence.
Prompt from NaPoWriMo: “Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that stretches your comfort zone with line breaks. That could be a poem with very long lines, or very short lines. Or a poem that blends the two….”
when the patterns that you see
do not mirror the observations of others
patterns can be dangerous
the loaded gun can go off
when patterns go askew
things can happen
even when they don’t
flow with the
a lot like my life
Copyright © 2018-04-06, by Lizl Bennefeld.
like a vapor trail
barely visible against
the sky…too far
away to hear a sound
as life begins and ends
Copyright © 2018-01-18, by Lizl Bennefeld.
WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Silence.
the ticking clock
restless sounds of puppy dreams…
one unread chapter
curtains closed against the dark
stars above adorn the night
Copyright © 2017-12-18, by Lizl Bennefeld. All rights reserved.
sunshine through leaves
kissed by frost…changing color
Copyright © 2017-11-26, by Lizl Bennefeld.
Prompt: Brewer: shine
songs of birds outside
a window too often closed—
their songs muted
cats cannot fly away…but
birds cannot escape the cold
Copyright © 2017-11-23, by Lizl Bennefeld.
Prompt 172. Write a poem using the following image: a cat sitting on a windowsill looking outside. ~ Donovan, Melissa. 1200 Creative Writing Prompts (Adventures in Writing) (p. 99). Swan Hatch Press.
Photographs from an earlier, very “weathery” year
brisk arctic winds
spring clouds from the south
wind sculpted ice
see-through teeth hang from branches
threatening spring tulips
Copyright © 2017-11-22, by Lizl Bennefeld.
WP Weekly Photo Challenge: Transformation
water puddle mirror
Copyright © 2017-11-08, by Elizabeth Bennefeld.
Writing a poem a day during November 2017.
blanket of new snow
puffy clouds hold in earth’s warmth
rabbit tracks melt first
Copyright © November 4, 2017, by Elizabeth W. (Lizl) Bennefeld.
crows caw overhead
landing on high branches
taking off again
the loudest bird will settle
only for the highest perch
Copyright © 2017-10-07, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.
I like this one a lot, and so decided to put it here, also. This is the last week of “Introduction to Japanese Poetry”, and I’m really enjoying it.
Asian lady beetle on foot
a common sight
air travel has appeal
but no snacks are served
Copyright © 2017-10-04, by Elizabeth W. (Lizl) Bennefeld.
Written in response to WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge: Pedestrian.
The tanka practice in week three of the workshop continues. This is one of the practice poems that I think I will not submit to the workshop leader; it feels like just an extended haiku. I like the flower, though. Seems as though I need a photograph, or at least a picture in my mind’s eye, in order to get started. And I’d always thought that I’m not a “visual” person.
brown on gold petals
poppy flowers bask
in the summer sun
Copyright © 2017-09-27, by Elizabeth Wicker Bennefeld.
It is morning, and
I worry about the honeybees
and the farmers who grow weeds
no longer bothered
Copyright © 2017-09-14, by Lizl Bennefeld.
This morning, 7 September 2017, I awoke after eight hours of sleep (or more). I’d practically fallen into bed, last night, before the sun had set. Exhausted, I think. I had fallen asleep towards the end of the afternoon, was awakened by hungry puppies, and did not really come alert, again, afterwards.
Wednesday was a scattered day. I awakened without the alarm, as usual, at 8:30 o’clock or a little after, let the Scampers outside, took my fasting BG test, fed the Scampers, and, picking up my point-and-shoot camera, took the Scampers outside, again. The temperature was in the high 40s °F. There were no open flowers in the wildflower garden, other than the Plains Coreopsis, and so we went back inside to nap (the Scampers), make coffee (for Al), and find something to eat (my breakfast).
I ate, brought coffee to Al, who was still in bed, and settled in to read the news and drink my first cup of Toddy coffee of the day (homemade cold-brew coffee concentrate diluted with whole milk). The Scampers napped. We went outside again at a little after 10:00 o’clock, and the Scampers raced around the yard while I took photographs. The sun was out, the temperature had risen a bit, and there were insects to photograph. Oddly, a lot of them stopped to pose for the camera!
Meanwhile, Al got boards measured and trimmed for the morning’s task of installing the soffits on the south side of the in-progress woodworking shop building in the back yard. I get the tall ladder, so that I have something to hold onto. This project has been an exercise, not just physically, but also in dealing with my dislike of heights. I continued to take photographs, off and on, while Al trimmed the next boards we were to put into place.
After lunch, we went to the mall, where I got my six-week haircut. The salon is being remodeled, and so everything was set up in half of the salon space. I am certain that exposure to the various chemicals quite near to me contributed to my fatigue and breathing problems. Upon leaving the mall, we stopped at the grocery to pick up some essentials (lots of meat, forgot to buy more milk), and then went home, again. I took a nap while Al went out to do more chores, and I ended up in the gazebo for a while before I made a sandwich for supper, drank another cup of Toddy coffee, and went to sleep, again.