Each month this blog will feature a word of the month to stimulate a poem. Anyone who wishes to share a poem is invited to participate. The point is to enjoy the challenge of writing a poem inspired by a single word. It doesn’t matter if this is your first poem or five hundredth. It’s all done for the fun and exercise of writing.
Cutoff for posting the current Word of the Month poem is the last day of the month.
On the first day of each month, a new word will be posted to challenge your imagination for that month.
Please post your poems on this page, so everyone can find the poems easily.
Thank you and have fun!
David
PS: The word for January is JOY.
Joy poem
The joy of living a long full life.
The sadness of watching your friends and family pass away.
The joy of seeing new things invented today.
The sorrow of watching the disappearing of old ways.
I could drive my shiny new sports car way too fast. Now my reflexes are way too slow so public transportation is how I go.
To put it all in perspective my joy has far outweighed my sorrow. My wonderful memories are far better than my tomorrow’s.
I’ve been blessed so now I’m ready for the rest.
Don B
I like the way you balance life. As long as Joy is ahead in the count, life will be good.
Thanks so much
So very true, Don. Aging ain’t for sissies! Thanks for this poignant poem.
I think we all wonder about our eventual demise and how we handle it. Fully knowing leaving our loved ones to our heavenly home is going to happen.
Thank you. So very true… as we age… the balance of joy and sorrow. My mom (88) is always bemoaning the loss of her friends and says she has lived too long…
My parents also wondered if they had been left behind and why. Ultimate faith in god makes life and death so much easier. I worry and pray for folks with no religious life.
Ditto what Janet Gallagher said. As long as joy outweighs sorrow, you’re the winner. You have expressed the balance in life well, Don. Here’s to more joy!
When I woke up this New Year’s morning to a wonderland, I could not resist . . .
ENJOYING THE MOMENT
by Cory Corrado ©
No one saw me
standing tall and alone
feet planted deep in fresh snow
skyward gazing
arms raised
swaying side to side
giggling giddy with joy.
No one saw me
except chipmunks woodpeckers and squirrels.
No one heard me except the trees in my woods.
No one ―
yet I was not alone
joy dancing in the sigh-lence of snow
…………………………………………………………………………
Joyful New Year, everyone!
Jeanne P
I love this poem.
The picture reminds me of my November poem about my brother making us a scooter out of one roller skate, an orange crate and a couple pieces of wood. It brought joy to us.
Cory
Some of our best times are when we are alone and can express our true feelings without someone to make the moment less. Thank you. I didn’t go out dancing in the snow, but I was able to let my mind run and dance with your words.
What a clever playing with words, Cory! I really like “sigh-lence”
Cory: I see you in my mind! Yes!!! The surprise of snow, the joy of a new day, the chance to dance… I love this one, Cory! Beautiful! Sigh-lence is lovely.
Oh, Cory, this so beautifully expresses the wonder of snowfall! And I love “sigh-lence”
I love the peacefulness and quiet that is felt in this
Please go to my blog to see the JOY poem at:
https://thevibrantchanneledcreator.wordpress.com/2020/01/01/oy-joy/
Jeanne P
I love this poem.
The picture reminds me of my November poem about my brother making us a scooter out of one roller skate, an orange crate and a couple pieces of wood. It brought Joy to us.
Fun word play, Jeanne!
Hi David,
I Gooffeedddd! I put a post for Jeanne P in the space for Cory. I was able to put the Jeanne P. one in the correct space but wasn’t able to delete the wrong one.
Please fix it so I don’t look so bad on our first day of the new year!
Happy New Year to ALL of the writers here on Word of the Month Poetry. Thanks, David for 10 years of fun! It has been a joy to read these poems and be able to participate with such skilled people.
Hi all: Here is my JOY poem
NAMING JOY
Grandfather died
before we were born.
Tradition dictated
we be named after him.
Samson, Sam .
His Hebrew name Simcha
meant joy.
Cousin Joy was born two weeks early.
My parents scrambled, used the J.
Like her name, Joy
was brimful with delight.
I, quieter, more dour,
would have made a terrible Joy.
But I was the best Jane.
@2020 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
You are, without a doubt, the BEST Jane! And names usually do come with a story. Mine is that my mom was a teacher, so she wanted a name that did not evoke memories of a naughty child or that lent itself to nasty nicknames. Hence, Jane.
I never knew that about either of your names but you are the best Janes I’ve encountered. I’ve always thought it was important to know what names mean or where they came from. We did a Story Time once about names and I looked up each child’s name beforehand. I was amazed at the number of people who didn’t know what their child’s name meant. Quite a few names came from TV shows. My name comes from a King Arthur tale that my mom read in high school. It was the tale about the kitchen knight assigned to help a lady rescue her sister. The lady was quite a snob. 🙂 If I’d been a boy, my name would have been Herbert after my grandfather and father.
Your poems never disappoint, Jane.
Thanks, LB.
Love it. Great story. Thanks.
Susan’s Joy
A new year has begun
and I’m still feeling overwhelmed from the holidays.
Yet the the urge to start anew is strong!
Oh what joy to sit, sift, and sort through the drawers
and baskets of my past year in silence,
contemplating each card, letter, and scribbled note
I’ve hoarded for some unremembered reason.
A weight seems to lift from within with each scrap that’s
thrown away. I won’t miss them, I’m sure.
My desk is now clean and ready…
for the inevitable notes that will find their way
into my heart and drawers again.
I’m ready!
You have well said the joy of a fresh start! Happy New Year, Susan and all!
I’ve been doing the same thing: sifting, sorting and tossing! You’ve really captured the feelings, Susan.
Leaves
By Linda Boyden©2020
Soundless,
leaves float on
the palm of the wind.
Earthbound, they
glide through a sky of blue;
clouds amuse and birds tease them
until they land on top of
a pile of fallen brethren
cradled by the warmth of the sun.
Once there, cats roll and claw deep,
leaving behind their tangy odors.
Teens rake them into piles
grumbling all the while
about how stupid and lame
this chore is.
The leaves listen only
to the voices exclaiming
about their beauty
very much like pretty women
and treacherous goddesses do.
When little ones kss-kss-kss their feet
through the raked piles, spinning
the leaves skyward again,
do they revel in the blue air,
wondering if this joy might last forever?
Day by night,
night by day, changes come.
The fallen leaves wait,
unaware of their future;
how their October beauty
will slide into November,
shrivel into brown,
wilt into winter,
only to resurrect again
as soil in the Spring.
This is such a beautiful leaf life-cycle, Linda!
Thank you, Jane!
Worlds, creation and demise
A world is born
I sit and sing
Into this nascent world I bring
security and comfort
lullabies and nursery rhymes
human presence
in the early hours
of world-creation
By the humidicrib
I sit and sing
I sit and sing
in intensive care
hymns familiar and consoling
bear comfort and love
as a world ends
Her rich world –
Great-grandchild –
baby of delight
late husband, sisters, mother
elegant old furniture
houses, clothes, music
righteous indignation
impulsiveness
joy
that point of view ceases.
I sit and sing
Virginia
Virginia: This poem captured me… I had to read and reread… beautiful! It reminds me of a poem I recently read by TS Eliot: The Journey of the Magi… which also speaks of birth and death. I love the ending… “I sit and sing.” Wow.
Keep singing, Virginia. This is a lovely look at birth and death.
A lovely poem, Virginia.
Thanks Linda – glad you like it. Of course it is my grandson and my mother – she died when he was three, and the baby made her last three years so wonderful for her. she, living next door, adored him…
We’ll just do it this way for WordPress. 🙂 Please delete the others, David, and sorry to cause you extra work.
JOY
JOY
Round and
Bouncy
Bubbles up
Through troublesome
Times,
Washes us with waves,
And cannot be held back
Any more than the
Tide
c2020 Jane Heitman Healy
I’m feeling bubbly and bouncy and fresh after reading this! Love it!
Thanks, Lynette!
I agree, Jane; joy remedies the hard time.
Choosing Joy
You stood at the pulpit
eulogizing my niece,
your brother’s godchild,
your son’s only sibling,
your daughter.
You stood and painted
a word picture of a spunky
little girl. A bright, gifted,
colorful artist, musician, with
an amazing sense of humor.
You outlined her struggles,
and, through a constricted throat
entreated us to choose joy,
to always choose joy
to remember the joy in Han’s life
as we think of her, remembering
the laugh out loud Uno games,
the pumpkin picking and face painting
the last vocabulary lesson we could help her
with. The turtle exchange we had.
I saw a box turtle on the street
one day, and made sure it crossed safely.
I know she did.
Linda Trott Dickman
Thank you for sharing this memory, for honoring this spunky girl, and for choosing joy.
Very poignant. So sorry. And joy is the best choice.
In a Flash
Like speedsters
On a racetrack
They zoom close
Then away…
Between houses
Around corners
And out of sight
A few swoop in for
A pit-stop at my feeders
Gulp a seed or two
Then hurried wingbeats
And up…
Into the race again!
No sign of finish line
Or checkered flag
But all at once
The race is done…
Nothing left but
A few seeds
One bewildered spectator
And a fluttering sense
Of joy
© Karen Eastlund
Wonderful, Karen. This happens at my house right before a snow fall. That first stanza gives a real sense of zooming.
What a great comparisons, Karen!
Seasons of Joy
Joy; the first snow glistening flakes fall like icy feathers blanketing the ground.
Joy; knowing the fluff is not here to stay, the ground is too warm.
Joy; the first day of spring when life wakes up from winter’s cold and heavy grip
to show all the colorful, fresh life as life begins anew.
Joy; summer’s fun with animals and people splashing in sparkling water
that can be still and quiet, shimmering in the sun. Air, hot, sticky, and breezy.
Joy; fall, leaves of many colors are on the trees and the ground crunchy carpet.
The season is mysteriously changing, slowly again – Joy!
Robin, your second line made me laugh, with joy.
Joy in every season is worth noting. Thanks, Robin!
Joy
Unlike happiness
Which, along with life and liberty,
We have the right to pursue
Unlike happiness
Which, like a watched pot,
Keeps us waiting
Unlike happiness
Which flees
Like a hunted hare
On lucky feet,
Joy bubbles up
Like a natural spring
Joy
Like a wide smile
Multiples
Joy
Comes dancing and singing
Unbidden
Like a surprise.
(c) 2020 Susan Bickel
This is delightful, Susan! You have so well explained the difference between happiness and joy. I especially love “Like a hunted hare/On lucky feet.”