Eco fuels at home are warmly cherished,
obligation calls and duly heeded,
in the past a smokeless coal,
allied to peat briquette the norm,
a less than ideal medley I’d agree,
I have this last briquette in camera folder,
on the day it was eventually disposed of,
an ahh moment if there ever was one,
Yet I cling to reminiscence round a warm hearth,
with my sister Jay’s wondrous glowing orb,
how she giggled so infectiously at will,
as intense vivid red flames leaped,
deep down inside we knew this couldn’t last,
a rubicon of sorts had now been crossed,
one final soiled clump of history,
that would resonate deep into late life mists,
our family clustered gaping in amazement,
at momentary flight of era toss on film,
an eternally preserved instant fetish,
some poignant flashback a capsule
Categories:
briquette, celebration, cute, fun, happy,
Form: Free verse
I know I should not whine or frivolously fret,
but I believe I have lost my pet marmoset.
I have also lost a blue barrette, a red tea set,
and a beautifully carved purple aigrette.
They all went down in the drain,
putting me in a particularly uncomfortable cold sweat.
I did not mind losing Jeanette,
a snake who was never an exceptionally kind or loving pet,
I am sad about losing my baby’s bassinet
and a tiny edge of my bathroom’s finest moquette.
They both fell down the storm drain,
when I paused to look at my rapidly disappearing tea set
Way down deep in the bowels of the sewer,
and I am especially sad to lose my pet marmoset.
Here comes another person.
She has lost a briquette, diskette,
and a sliver of yellow georgette.
Written 2-28-2019
Contest: Down a Storm Drain Gone Forever
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Categories:
briquette, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Smoke rises in every direction,
staining blue skies with pale shades of grey;
Molten coals--they deliver convection,
to the meats laid an orderly way,
busily emanating aromatic bouquets.
Termed 'Barbecues' or 'Pickin's--by plain folk,
toiling sunrise till often sunset;
to dispense the real magic in hot smoke,
produced by mere gas or briquette,
and the labors of pure human sweat.
In the end, wafting smoke teases senses,
anticipating succulence traced;
to 'cookouts' that sometimes mend fences,
tween those who oft gather in haste,
for that scent of 'the good life,' in taste!
Categories:
briquette, celebration, childhood, community, family,
Form: Quintain (English)
(A Double Divine-form not include in your list)
She digs into her pocket's hollow space
and snags a tissue, swipes her eyes.
Her fingers touch a bar,
a rich, dark treat.
She chooses dash as treasure's resting place
then cranks the key, gets a surprise
when heater in her car
melts hoarded sweet.
She zooms around her town without a care
yet feels her appetite evolve,
while scent from heater vent
plays a coquette.
She knows the fault is hers but deems unfair
as still her nose betrays resolve
and brings about consent
to buy briquette.
Categories:
briquette, candy, car, chocolate,
Form: Carpe Diem
A small bundle, briquette, blanket wrapped
held close to heart. Soon the new.
We wonder will we be trapped?
When we travel along the road, back
through time to our roots, our father’s
father and beyond our mother’s mother.
Lamps turn down, collars turn upward.
Blue night ablaze with stars, some fall
Burst. Like the whisper of prayers, the word.
One star shines brighter than all, Venus?
Candlelight flickers from doorways.
Laughter raucuous, cheerings of praise.
The balance between my life and my passage
flickers as if blown between the worlds
whose love would I hold up high like a mage?
No matter, the answer flows through me
chaos of love the answer to all I seek
love to each, hugs to the other, cheek
to cheek. Lights out we are still ablaze
remembering all the light flickering down
like scents of pine, coal, cinnamon for days
and fall about us like snowflakes, we taste
wine, warmth burning through to numb toes
Are we there yet? When have we left? Who knows?
Sheri Fresonke Harper 11-30-2013
Categories:
briquette, child, christmas, light, love,
Form: Rhyme