I really have no idea what today’s prompt for Day 11, OctPoWriMo is about. It took forever to even find the prompt, then I didn’t understand it. It said something about finding your achievements, or being proud of something, I think. I read some other’s poems, to try to get a hint, and they are all over the place today, too. Some said it’s about singing, or sounds, and other confusing topics. So… I did what I felt like doing today.

This is supposed to be a ‘prose poem’…a poem that reads as prose, or narrative, and using some poetic flairs. One definition I read says not to use a simile, or metaphor, and the other definition I read says use them if you want to. I read a bunch more, but each one was more confusing. (sigh) Guess it’s just one of those confusing days for me. What I’m not confused about, is my poem. I liked how it turned out, no matter what type you’d say it is. Hope you enjoy reading it. 🙂



Early Autumn, sunshiny day, not hot, not cold, just right. Go outdoors, sit on the porch or in a lawn chair. Or just open a window to sit by. A soft, gentle breeze teases your face. You smile. Close your eyes…you’ve already started your painting. Take a breath…breathe in the atmosphere. Internalize the sensations you feel and hear. Let your soul soar. Leaves in the trees are softly rus-rus-rustling. Some have put on their fall finery of yellows, reds, and oranges, while greens are growing impatient, waiting their turn. Behind your eyelids, you see their dappled colors, like flickering mosaics. Little strobes of glorious fireworks in the dark. Now listen…what do you hear? A dog, not near, bark-ark-arking his existence in this world, just for thejoy of being alive. The musical tink-tink-tinkling of your wind-chimes provides a background for you to layer into your mind painting. Such uplifting, happy notes. A wafting of wood-smoke drifts by on the breeze. Someone is firing up their grill, one more time, before winter’s chill. A bird is squawk-awk-awking for attention. You take a peek, just to see who has fluttered down close by. You see big, black grackles, and doleful doves, rat-tat-tattling for morsels of munchies the cats have left behind in their tin bowl. The cats don’t mind. They are silently snoozing together in a pile, up on the lawn swing, the breeze gently rocking them. Dozing, you want to live in this relaxing place, mind painting forever, but it’s done. Your painting is finished…for now. It is perfectly preserved in your memory, to be cherished, as are many other masterpieces you’ve created. It is good..It is right…It is mind painting…


Thanks for visiting! Peace }I{

7 responses »

    • Hi, Oneta! I’m happy you enjoyed reading the poem. It was fun, and I put the repeating sounds in at the last minute, not sure if it would hurt or help. So, thank you very much! 🙂

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