One day I caught a leprechaun, but said I’d set him free
if we could take a selfie and he’d split his gold with me.

“Agreed!” then warned the leprechaun, “Be careful how you spend.”
“Your riches all will vanish if you reach the rainbow’s end.”

I paid no heed to what he said, I took my share and ran;
I headed to a dealership to bargain with a man.

I bought a BMW in candy apple red
and matching model for my wife, but Viv’s was orange instead.

Then next I bought a Cannondale as yellow as the sun –
but Viv said no to exercise and so I bought just one.

To even out the purchases, since she was born in May,
I found the perfect emerald to give to her that day.

By now I had a thirst to quench; though any drink would do
the store stocked only Gatorade and so I chose the blue.

I stood outside the Five and Dime to relish my new ride
and thought, I need some finer garb to match its lush inside!

I drove to Neiman Marcus – for the first time in my life.
I only shopped at Target for my clothing and my wife.

I asked a clerk to help me find the best jeans I could own.
“If best is what you’re looking for; you’re wanting Rag and Bone.”

I fit two sizes smaller, as I learned it’s not the same
how pants are made at Target versus by a branded name.

I had the clerk cut off the tags so I could wear them then.
I said, “Get used to seeing me, ‘cause I’ll be back again!”

I left a whole inch taller, but I thought as I walked out,
my Viv will be quite jealous of my fancy pants, no doubt.

To ease her pain, I found a floral vendor on the street
and picked three pots of 6. violets – their smell, a bitter sweet.

As soon as I had paid for them – they vanished in thin air;
I felt a coolness on my legs and realized they were bare!

I quickly put my old pants on and went to find my car,
but knew I would be walking home, and goodness, home was far.

I tried to think of some way I could let my poor wife know
of what her foolish husband had and how he’d let it go.

But since I didn’t understand what made it disappear
through tears, I had to itemize each step for her to hear.

I saw a dawning on her face when I was halfway through.
She stopped me from continuing. “I’ll end the tale for you.”

“It didn’t matter what you bought, the colors were the key.
Your luck changed with a violet thing; that fact I guarantee.”

“You’re right, but how or why?” I asked, but could not look at Viv.

“You silly, empty-headed man; it’s “V” in Roy G Biv!”  

This is a prompt from https://www.writing.com/main/forums/item_id/333655-The-Writers-Cramp where, in less than 24 hours, we had to write and include six different colors in our story or poem.

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We hope you know how much we care and want you to succeed.
Please know what seems un-learnable is started with a seed.
A pencil is to paper as a hoe is to the ground –
you have to turn the soil first to move your thoughts around.
Although the concepts planted may not blossom right away,
by tending to your learning, you will pick up more each day.

PROGRESS

My ceiling is peeling – no need for replacement.
My view’s set on blue since my start in the basement.



My minimalist poet for the final day of the National Poetry Month challenge offered by http://www.napowrimo.net/ . Thank you for the inspiration!

CEASE AND DESIST

Oh Fear, my foe, stop stalking me. Your needless visitation
disturbs my speech, since when you come my thoughts go on vacation.

I bypass social settings, Sir; I know you’ll be attending –
your molestation of my mind, as always, never ending.

Although my brain is well aware I’m just as good as they,
that notion flies right out the door when you butt in the way.

You violate my right to speech, as well my right to function.
To halt your wracking of my life, I’m seeking an injunction.

For the second to the last day – hurray – of NaPoWriMo, http://www.napowrimo.net/ suggested as a prompt to write a meditative poem based on a strong feeling we have had. I suspect I am not the only one who suffers from social anxieties.

WHAT AM I?

as deep as an ocean
as complex as trig
as simple as catching the greasiest pig

as healing as hugs
as veined as a leaf
as bold as a painting by Georgia O’Keefe

as layered as trifles
as tangled as dreams
as rich as a coffee with multiple creams

as shallow as wade pools
as airy as flight
as tricky as joining the left with the right

as short as a sprint
as long as route one
as bad or as good as a day in the sun

A SONNET INSPIRED BY SHAKESPEARE

With payment for my services required,
I cannot chase my dreams; I walk instead.
I seek those dreams when anted work’s expired,
as then begins a journey in my head
where random and directed thoughts traverse
collecting words and images en route
to fit within the confines of a verse –
or not, as options merge and toss about.
As verses kindle stanzas kindle tales,
the journey, slowly, carries out its end
until, in part, my lifelong dream prevails;
its final steps on others must depend.
Throughout these travels, oftentimes I’ve thought:
if no one reads my work, is this for naught?






Today’s prompt was to borrow lines or find inspiration from one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Although Shakespeare may have been distracted by a different allure, we both found/find our minds occupied with particular thoughts when the physical or necessary tasks of the day are done. I borrowed, reordered and slightly reworded these two lines from his Sonnet 27:

But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired:

Since life evolved
a child’s nestled
in his mother’s arms.

Like roots to ground
a child’s nurtured
in her mother’s arms.

As sun melts snow
too troubles vanish
in a mother’s arms.

How great the void
for those unwelcome
in their mothers’ arms.  

OH TO BE A BEAR

Oh why can’t humans hibernate,
at least us older throng,
especially in places where
old Winter comes on strong?

We’ll sip the cider, smell the pines,
and take in all the lights.
We’ll sing our favored festive songs
and bear those chilly nights.
  
But once December says farewell,
we’ll bid our friends adieu,
and slumber ‘til old Winter’s dose  
of frigid days are through.

A WRITER’S SURVIVAL GUIDE

If I’m ever detached from the Net,
with my Roget’s Thesaurus I’m set.
Leave me stranded at sea;
oh how happy I’ll be –
just as long as it doesn’t get wet!

THE SHOW MUST GO ON

I sat outside the show-ring gate half-wanting to go in.
My first time ever 4-H show was ready to begin.

My pony Deena felt my nerves; she made it her objective
to test my patience through the day – her efforts, quite effective!

We started with a Pleasure Class – which was, in fact, not so.
At first she tried to buck me off, then stopped when I said, “Go!”

Then next we tried a Hunter’s Class with jumps but two feet tall.
She cleared the first three fences well, the fourth, though, not at all.

And me, a novice rider, had
 no choice; I cleared the jump
…
without my pony under me
 and landed on my rump!

Though bruised a bit, I stood right up and grabbed my pony’s reins.
I headed out the exit gate and down the gravel lanes.

I would have packed Miss Deena up and left, but I was stuck
since I was only eight years old and could not drive our truck.

And so I faced one final ride with Deena in control.
She walked instead of cantered twice – a pony on a stroll.

By now my tears, as well, refused to listen to my plea;
this day went nowhere near the way my dreams said it would be.

I left without a ribbon, but my trials weren’t ignored.
For, in the end, they gave to me the sportsmanship award.