sunday fiddle
funday diddle
With your silent melody,
There’s no day like you
Quite like Christmas, splendidly
You reign supreme in what you do,
Reminding us of easy peace
Of time, solemn and gentle to the tune
Of fork and knife on plates of geese
After the church bell had rung at noon.
Guest at sunday tea party
niece serves invisible tea in tiny cups
offering easy bake oven treats
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025
the rich aroma of chai
enjoying a quiet rainy sunday autumn morning
~ serenity captured in a mug
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
bright yellow throats
trumpeting a sunlit joy -
daffodils
drowsy afternoon -
day dreams scented
with white magnolia
plum tree -
silhouetted in sound
by buzzing bees
I won't lie to you to fake emotions I might feel
and tell you things you want to hear
In this give-and-take, no lie, that feels
lobsided and askew, sometimes like a tug of war
Breathlessly waiting, life in limbo
one toe in the water overly cautious
holding back ~
Stuck behind yield signs and stop signs
the occasional yellow lights
foot on the break ~ go but not too fast
Everyday is a lazy Sunday afternoon
we're out in our sporty lamborghini
dillydallying in life's slow lane
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Father, let the hardened hearts grow soft,
Break chains of sin, lift burdens off.
Let those who wander find their way,
Through mercy’s light of dawn’s new day.
I plead for souls who walk in night,
Let love restore their fading sight.
No wound is greater than Your grace,
No past too dark for You to face.
Through change, O Lord, redeem the lost,
Show them the worth that bore the Cross.
Wash them in rivers, pure and wide,
Hold them forever by Your side.
Let every tear be seed for bloom,
Let every step cast off the gloom.
And bring them home, redeemed, renewed—
Forever bound in love with You.
Listening to Jazz
Eating my egg, ham and cheese
So easy to please
Mondays are always blue
Tuesdays proved to be so too
never can find a way
to make it safely through
Wednesdays they came and went
now all the money's spent
yet wouldn't you know
it never even made a dent
Thursdays became a bust
and Fridays I just can't trust
they always let me down
leave me in the dust
Saturdays are shadow play
what more can I say
the less said the better
best forgotten anyway
but Sunday I look forward to
it's my day of rest
my salvation too
the one I love the best
tho' twenty-four seven's
OK for some
I'll get by
with twenty-four one
If no-separation is what is
then all bets are off~
appearances arise
which are not explainable
and any explanations
are appearances arising~
seems like some
Sunday morning simplicity.
sunday afternoon
fresh basket of wildflowers ~
a knock on Nan's door
AP: 2nd place 2025
SUNDAY MORNING DRIVE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sunday morning drive~
no maps, no rush,
just the open road,
Dad at the wheel, our compass.
The ribbon of road unwinding,
under blue skies, past green fields
scent of hay and honeysuckle
wafting through open windows.
Flicker of neon,
screen door's creaky welcome,
a filling station oasis,
time suspended in dusty glass.
31 cents a gallon,
a number from another time,
we choose icy delights,
sodas fizzing on our tongues.
Barns lean into the afternoon,
narrow, one lane roads
slow-motion slide show,
bygone era, simpler time.
Sunday morning
mile by unchartered mile,
nowhere together,
a destination in itself (picture below)
*Note: I published this poem as a response to Haiku Shack’s weekly prompt (Sunday mornings) on April 14, 2025. This is my original poem. haikushackprompts.substack.com/p/weekly-prompt-on-sunday-mornings
The soft pitter-patter of rain drops falling
against the AC in the window
It's rhythm rocks me back to sleep
drifting away within the sound of
tiny drums of water droplets from
the clouds above.
A sudden clash
screaming crack of boom
thunder shakes me awake
as a torrent of rain showers
the earth below.
Up from bed and sit outside
inside the screen in porch.
Feeling the moist breezes
kiss my face with their damp coolness.
Watching the rain pour forth and drench
the world.
Majesty of lightening flashes
roar of clapping thunder.
The sun hidden behind dark full clouds.
Was a slight chance for a Sunday morning rain,
chances were achieved.
a good book and my cat
cushions and a faux fur throw
a nook by the window
with a view onto the city park
where birds have returned to nest
following the harsh winter
everyone's come out of hibernation
and the cycle begins
of rejuvenation life and love
Good Morning!
Good Morning! I said.
Now I have a good one.
Answered a lady, a shop assistant.
Sunday morning, I understand you. I said.
Yes, it is. But now I feel better. She answered
– Morning sunlight shone in the shop, and black eyes, sparkling
After shopping, I left the store
The May light greeted me with love
Spring, nature, fresh air, singing birds, sparkling black eyes…
Black eyes
Watching far
Good Morning
Sunday Love
Good Morning
New Spring Love
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