Life's Wallflower (junk journal poems)
Time dances
seeking purpose,
holds out her hand,
indulges in matchmaking -
and I,
suspicious of flowers
and encouragement,
sometimes close my doors,
complain
I don't know how to dance.
by Margaret Bednar, December 21, 2020
This is linked with "Poets and Storytellers United - Writers' Pantry #51 Year's End". My poem is the second in my Junk Journal series of poems. It is from a random page of an old book and (front and back - the front is only shown here) I created an eraser poem. I changed the "rules" a bit as the only eraser poems I have seen use the words in order as they appear on the page - I allowed myself the indulgence of rearranging them - I ran a line through the text as you can see, and I will be typing it up and slipping this poem beneath the flowers on the left-hand side.
10 comments:
I, too, literally have two left feet.
People get very creative nowadays with erasures – and you have found another new way. Maybe I might go through some of my old journals like this; you make it seem quite enticing. And I love the poem you created.
It's easy to complain, not so easy to do something that would make our lives a wee bit better. (The only dancing I do is alone, where no one can see how clumsy I am!)
Ooh I love this one
You work magic with this poetic form, looking forward to many more in 2021. Cheers, Margaret.
I love to dance, can get lost in it. Love this poem!
However the words are arranged, you've penned a lovely poem. I am lucky to walk, let alone dance, and I'm grateful. The act of complaining gives voice to negativity. It's best to hear the voice of gratitude, even for the smallest things.
This is interesting...especially the part about time itself doing the matchmaking.
Aww, this tugged at me, closing the door, pretending not to dance. Treasure in the junk.
smiles...Happy New Year!
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