A Poem a Day (478): Pumpkin man (a Villanelle)

Pumpkin man (a Villanelle)
 
He is the pumpkin man
carving out teeth and eyes,
doing all he possibly can
 
to be ready for Sanhain,
a time of spirits and sighs.
He pours the leftovers in a pan,
 
a buzzy orange mix. Dan
is his name. With a disguise,
the heads look almost human.
 
These pumpkins, how they sang
aloud without any cares.
They were his number one fan.
 
At midnight away they all ran
while Dan baked pumpkin pies,
gingerbread and pecan flan.
 
He is the pumpkin man,
carving out teeth and eyes,
doing all he possibly can
to be ready for Sanhain.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 30, 2021

New release: A Poem a Day (poetry book)

I have a new book release (the first since 2015!). It's a poetry book called A Poem a Day.

It's a collection of 446 poems, written between April 2020 and March 2021. In April 2020, I decided to try to write a poem a day on my blog, Vixie’s Stories, following prompts on NaPoWriMo.net. The following month I kept going.

It has been published on Amazon. It's also on Smashwords (which will soon distribute it to places like Barnes & Noble).

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09B6CPVKD

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09B6CPVKD

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1095735

A Poem a Day (477): Suspended

I've posted this one on JD Mader's writing website, Unemployed Imagination. Head over there this weekend to write about or read any topic you like - it's all at 2minutesgo. 

Suspended
 
Suspend disbelief
without strings or nets
to catch the worthy traveller,
seek him in disarray.
 
We outlive colour,
dream of how it mixes
faces and odd scenarios,
whips up an idle scream.
 
This is the fulfilling time
where harm ran amock,
spilt wine on the floor
and forgot to close the door.
 
But we survive all endings,
refigure how they evolved,
seeking closure in murmurs
of conversations we’ve lost.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 16, 2021

A Poem a Day (476): Winter blues

 
 
This week in my poetry class we had to write a blues poem. Lines 1 and 2 are the same, but can have small differences, and line 3 rhymes with them both. 

Winter blues
 
In the heart of winter the earth is silent,
in the beat of winter the earth lies silent.
trees skim broken, the sky darkly rent.
 
Old Man Withers drags his heavy legs,
Old Man Withers shifts his weary legs,
ignoring how his faithful Alsation begs.
 
The earth snow solid crunches under foot,
the earth breathes and crunches under foot,
this white chilled hand concealing every root.
 
A robin hops, spreads his wings and flies,
a robin chirps, unfurls his wings and flies.
At the turn of spring is when winter surely dies.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 9 2021