The Versesmith

Poets and Storytellers United  Friday Writings #214: Love, love, glorious love! detail of stone lithograph in author's collection, 1909 - K. C. Baking Powder - ©Jaques Mfg. Co., Chicago  White roses by moonlight. Butterflies in the hollyhocks. Scent of vanilla rising from my coffee. Roses dry as bone. Butterflies have flown. My coffee cold and bitter. Love-lost, I live in shadow. ©2026 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved   #poetsandstorytellersunited #fridaywritings #sevenling #lovelost 

 dVerse #231  :  Making Much of Poems  Pen us a smallish poem of just 44 words, including some semblance of the word MUCH.  image credit   Like scattered pieces of child’s puzzle, I shattered. Missing the most important piece, right there, where the ragged hole in my heart is. Nothing fits to fill it. So much left unsaid. So much left undone. You died much too early. I wasn’t ready. ©2025 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved   #dverse #quadrille 

Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge: Tanka Puente Theme: Best and Worst Moments  Robbie Cheadle is host for this first #TankaTuesday challenge in the new series.   "A Puente poem comprises of three stanzas with the first and third being separate thoughts but sharing an equal number of lines. The second stanza is the bridge stanza and is a single line enclosed in tildes (~) that acts as a bridge between the thoughts in the first stanza and the third stanza.  As this challenge is syllabic in nature, the first and third stanzas should be tankas in the standard form of 5/7/5/7/7. 1st stanza: separate thought, equal number of lines (5/7/5/7/7) 2nd stanza: one line enclosed in tildes (~) to distinguish itself from the last line of the first stanza and the first line of the third stanza. No syllable count, but keep it brief. 3rd stanza: separate thought, equal number of lines (5/7/5/7/7) The poem should be titled." I close my eyes, wish to dream, and far within sleep to chance u...

 dVerse Poetics: Picking up the Pieces "So, for today’s Poetics challenge, I would like you to write about grief (in general or personal). If that is something you don’t want to share, you can write about healing, dealing with loss or the general state of our world that brings grief to you." While I've written, and posted, poetry speaking of grief in general, much of it, unbeknownst to the reader, as personal.  I may have mentioned, or alluded to the loss of my husband, but never came right out (that I recall) and wrote about it.  I've typed and backspaced, typed and deleted, and now, I've only been able to write one line, an American Sentence.     My heart was left so shattered, there was no way to pick up the jagg'd shards. ©2024 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved Other poems on the subject of grief, and loss, can be found on the left by clicking "grief" in the Labels area. 

 24 Seasons Syllabic Poetry Challenge, No. 22  Snow Becomes Rain (February 19 – March 4) Usui 雨水 "Your syllabic poetry writing invitation is to choose a kigo word or phrase from the seasonal kigo list on the post. You can select from the Winter and Early Spring categories ( Yuki Teikei Haiku Society ) on the kigo word list links below. Share your kigo word on your post." I have written a kouta with the kigo phrase, " the month of expectation, "  using plural " months ."    I have edited the original to change "the" in the last line to "nor," as it wasn't clear that "he" did not live to see the spring blooms.  image public domain These months of expectation promise nothing to me now. He'll not see another spring, nor cherries in bloom. ©2024 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  #tankatuesday #kigo #tankatuesdaypoetrychallenge #tankatuesday24seasons #kouta #syllabicpoetry 

Poets and Storytellers United  Friday Writings #108: Beginning For your optional prompt this week, please let the idea of Beginning inspire you. You might write about that idea, or perhaps share a piece which in itself constitutes a beginning of some kind.  Would I, if given the chance, return to  our beginning? I hope you would understand if I refused. It is not meant to hurt you. Our many  years together, now years apart, I would not relive. If only for the pain at the end not to live through again. ©2024 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved 

  Ronovan Writes Ovi Poetry Challenge 19: MINE is your inspiration. Oh!  The days of roses and wine! Toasting our future, you were mine. When since then did I miss the sign your love for me had died? ©2023 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved #ronovanwrites #ronovanwritesovipoetrychallenge #ovipoetry #ovipoem #truthpoetry #syllabicpoetry #syllabicpoem 

 Poets and Storytellers United  Friday Writings #94: Storm, Ink, Love " ...write poetry or prose which includes the words:  storm ,  ink ,  love . " image ©2023 by by son new tattoo fresh ink under my skin your love clouds my judgment a storm of regret tomorrow ©2023 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved #poetsandstorytellersunited #fridaywritings #tattoopoetry #tattoopoem 

Poets and Storytellers United   Friday Writings #82 : Favorite Books "...write poetry or prose which includes  the complete title  of one of your favorite books. And if you’re feeling extra generous, tell me why your chosen title is a favorite." I sit at The End of the Pier gazing off into the distance, to squint past the hazy horizon.   There’s nothing to see; there never has been. The Pier is the End of the world.   I sit at The End of the Pier alone, no one ever sees me here to question why I come.   I watch the sun as it slowly drowns, coloring the sea blood-red   in its death throes.   I sit at The End of the Pier wishing I were sinking with the sun, longing to     step off the pier, to walk on moonbeams as they rise from the sun’s ashes. ©2023 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved The End of the Pier is by Martha Grimes.  If you are familiar with her as the author of the Richa...

 The Whirligig #409 Prompt words in red.  The snapshots in the album should have revealed a love story, as page by page the story unfolded to the  happy ending of fairytales. See, look here.  The couple, a picture of happiness, laughing in the park. In this one, they are skipping hand in hand up the alley , kicking lines in the snow to spell out their names .   The Mr. and Mrs. of the cottage with lace curtain s  at the front door, preserved in living color.   Even this candid shot of her mid-laugh, with toothbrush in raised hand is part of the story.   Give the pages another turn, and we see the story has changed .   That’s life.   Life brings changes, and happy endings are fairytales.   She drops the album into the trash with the remains of the Indian takeout for one.    ©2023 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

  The Whirligig #394 Prompt words in red. image: public domain   I arrive . I arrive wearing scraps . Pieces of my patchwork life crudely stitched from scraps of grief . Bare , but for these scraps , these griefs .   I arrive . I arrive wearing patchwork, my broken heart stitched upon my sleeve. Ragged cloth. Tattered soul. Grief clothes me.   I arrive . I arrive stick thin, grief-stricken, invisible, longing to join these strange creatures I see smiling, laughing, blind to my grief .   “See! I arrive ! Drink in my sorrow, taste my patchwork heart. Hear!   My name is Grief , and shall be forever more.”   I am not courageous . They lie in telling me so. They know not grief as I do. Grief burns deep. Deep and cold. So very, very cold. And, so very, very deep. ©2022 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved