Friday, November 07, 2014

A Challenge Poem, Transforminng Nature

On My Wild Side
My horse, made of steel
It drinks gas and belches smoke
Not one grain of oat
My canyons, secure 
Steel beams, enclosed and girded
Rivers of people

My instincts, run wild
Silicon valley produced
Flash memories know

Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

Picture Credits:
 - Top:  Harley Davidson Superlow, 1200T (Touring)  Although I still have a motorcycle endorsement on my driver's license I haven't ridden one of my own since our youngest child, Karen, was born in the 70's.  I did have one and rode it at the time of our marriage.
 - Center:  New York City streets in 1936, near the present World Trade Center area.  Wikipedia, Radio Row-Berenice Abbott, Public Domain, (Link)
 - Bottom:  Copyright, © 2012 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved.  (I paid $5.00 for this old Underwood electric back when the college where I was teaching phased out typewriters in favor of computers with keyboards.)
I am linked with Hanna at the Real Toads, Transforming Friday with Nature's Wonders.
 - Hannah's challenge was to " include these canyons in your could be the setting, color, sound quality or even explore the canyon in metaphor - the choice is yours."
 - The Canyon that Hannah referred to was Antelope Canyon in Arizona.  It "was formed by erosion of Navajo Sandstone, primarily due to flash flooding and secondarily due to other sub-aerial processes. Rainwater, especially during monsoon season, runs into the extensive basin above the slot canyon sections, picking up speed and sand as it rushes into the narrow passageways. Over time the passageways eroded away, making the corridors deeper and smoothing hard edges in such a way as to form characteristic 'flowing' shapes in the rock." (for more, see the Wikipedia article, here)

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Sunday, November 02, 2014

Pumpkin Patch -- An Acrostic Poem -- Flash 55 Words

Pumpkin patch beckons now
Under moon's cloud etched light
Met we there long ago
Pure delight evening bliss
Kissed we there, lingering
Instilled a love with lust
Never could it be told
Pumpkin patch calls once more
Allure of stolen love
Treasured memory still
Clandestine in our minds
Halved, now miles separate
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- Photo and Poem Copyright, © 2011 and 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

- Linked with

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