This is the Open Write, a place for educators to nurture their writing lives and to advocate for writing poetry in community. We gather every month. This August, three of the contributors to an anthology for students, Picture Perfect Poetry, have shared prompts related to one of their poems in the anthology. Denise Krebs, Joanne Emery, and Patricia Franz are here to poem together with you in August. Next month the Open Write will be September 18-21.
Our Host
Denise Krebs lives in the Mojave Desert, home to ancient rust-tinged granite boulders, both fire-ravaged and rejuvenating Joshua trees, and lots of cactuses, like the beavertail and strawberry hedgehog to name just two. After a career of teaching, Denise is busy these days hiking and biking in the desert, working hard to elect a new representative who will really represent us in Congress, organizing inventory in a stellar local Friends of the Library bookshop, and spending time adoring her grandchildren. She blogs regularly at Dare to Care, is the co-author of The Genius Hour Guidebook, and has some poems published in anthologies, including today’s prompt inspiration Picture Perfect Poetry.
Inspiration
An ekphrastic poem is one inspired by a piece of art or a photograph. Picture Perfect Poetry: An Anthology of Ekphrastic Nature Poetry for Students, edited by Carol Labuzzetta, is filled with poems and photographs by two dozen poets.
Art, photography, experiences, nature – anything can inspire you to write ekphrastic poems. Today, you might consider writing about something in nature. Last December, Gayle Sands shared some great information about ekphrastic poetry, so you can check out her post for more information.
Process
Here are some ideas for your ekphrastic poem today:
- Try an ekphrastic nature poem of your own today. Do you have a nature photo on your camera roll that needs to be captured afresh with words? Do you want to sit outside or look out a window and see something in nature to inspire you? Make it a free verse poem or any format you like.
- If you don’t have a photo on your camera roll, you can find inspiring royalty-free nature photos here – Pixabay or Pexels.
- Post the photo with your poem, or not. It will be great either way–we can enjoy your poem with or without seeing what inspired you. (If you do post a photo, though, it is probably best to post a trimmed screenshot, since the comments won’t accept a high-resolution download.)
- I wrote my poem in a form I call a 2-4-6-8 poem. It may be a syllable-counting form I made up. Each line increases by two syllables. Write as many stanzas as needed. Your choice of rhyme scheme is optional.
Denise’s Poem
Warning by Denise Krebs
Dying
After the fire
Nature called 911
Decades later repair’s begun
Now fire
Becomes more dire
Climate change warns today
Will Joshua Trees go away?
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers.
Walking
Caught in the rain
I began to run. Worms
Wiggling onto sidewalks trying
Not to drown. I almost crashed avoiding
I love this rain-walking moment for you! Oh, the worms!
Cayetana, how sweet that you tried to avoid the worms! I’m glad you only almost crashed.
Haiku for a monarch
once airborne beauty
leaf-nursed flower-fed flier
now summer’s flotsam
Amanda,
I want to hold on to the monarch as “flower-fed flier.” That’s a gorgeous image and wonderful alliteration.
Here’s the photo inspiration
Oh, Amanda, I want to see that photo! “summer’s flotsam” sounds like he had a tough summer. I love the alliteration and beauty in “flower-fed flier” and “leaf-nursed” is precious–I’m thinking of the milkweed that fed the larva. Beautiful haiku.
Thank you for honoring the monarch. I saw an eastern dark swallowtail just yesterday on one of my bushes! I hadn’t seen one all summer.
I love “leaf-nursed”–mother’s milk of milkweed.
Hi again,
I noticed a few of you mentioned that photos wouldn’t post. I learned that the file size is what will cause photos to not load. If you access the size of the JPEG and then compress it to a smaller size, it should post. I know there are more technical terms, but that’s the best I can give you.
Thank you, Stacey! Hopefully that will help. 🙂 I’ll try that next time.
Tiny Beauty
Glory be to Nature for tiny things–
For newest dappled egg from youngest pullet;
For tiny four-leaf clover in the grass;
Fresh footprints in the dust from baby fox;
Bit gnats remind me of the cushions from my pain.
And all, the tiny feelings in my heart.
Wow, that is stunning, and the egg is shiny too. Those nails are beautiful. But the poem. The poem. Yes. “cushions from my pain” — and there is your picturebook story right there.Gorgeous.
Thank you for hearing me. <3
I love this tribute to tiny things. Lovely imagery.
“Tiny Beauty”–what a title. That egg is amazing, dappled, shiny, tiny. I’ve never seen anything like it. Your poem gets richer as it goes on with the reminders of “cushions from my pain” and “the tiny feelings in my heart.” Allison, so lovely.
You do know “Pied Beauty” was my mentor text:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44399/pied-beauty
Oh, thank you for the reminder! I forgot all about that poem. “All things dappled”
Allison, simply beautiful! Love newest dappled egg.
Lovely! Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful! and I say, “Small but mighty”!
Denise,
Thank you for hosting and for drawing attention to the threats endangering Joshua Tree. I hear the trees in this clarion call.
Our weather has been crazy this month. One day we’re roasting and the next freezing. My house faces north, and that means awaiting some plantings to arrive in August while others show off in spring.
Formation
[Sijo]
Each plant stands at attention
indifferent to sun’s fickle rays.
Hostas peek at blue sky scenes.
Timid bulbs await impatiens
Roses shed floral petticoats
for the botanic parade.
Glenda Funk
August 15, 2026
The image you created of flowers on parade is so clear I felt I could hear the marching band!
Glenda, you describe the weather everywhere this season in that wonderful word, “fickle.” Your poem captures the dependence of plants on nature and its patterns that are predictable the timelines vary with weather patterns. It is all part of the botanic parade you describe so well.
Glenda, I can’t even choose a favorite line. Each image is enticing. I had to stop to savor the words “Timid bulbs await impatiens” and then”Roses shed floral petticoats / for the botanic parade.” Beautiful!
I wish we had some fickle sun rays from time to time. Ours is still scorching.
Glenda, the image and poem are gorgeous. Love the way you personify the plants by sharing what they do. The ending is my favorite:
🌹 Love!!
Yes, Glenda. Sijo. Perfect choice. “Hostas peek at blue sky scenes” — that line is beautiful. I lingered there for a bit and repeated it aloud. And then the word petticoats. I like seeing this word in your context of roses. Love it.
Sarah
Well, that is pretty special. I think each month you would have a different garden there in that spot, yes? I love the title, and the last “Roses shed floral petticoats for the botanic parade” is keeping me smiling.
Wow, a Sijo! Lovely floral images and your poem flows beautifully. Love the floral petticoats!
Glenda, your opening stanza challenges me to do the same! Dealing with fickle folks!
Each plant stands at attention
indifferent to sun’s fickle rays.
I echo other commenters in my appreciation for the imagery here. From “fickle” to “parade” this description is lovely. That said, I think “roses shed floral petticoats” is my favorite line of all!
I love, “Botanic parade”.
Our sweet dog, Jersey, died earlier this week. The 12 and a half years we shared with her were not nearly long enough. This poem is not enough to convey the gratitude I have for her companionship. Thank you, Denise, for hosting today; and thanks for providing a prompt that gave me the opportunity to pay tribute to a loving, loyal friend.
Not Enough Time
Little
shadow, loyal
friend. Your dog-kindness soothed
years of human hurts. Your nearness
through dark, sleepless nights…us
under the moon.
Thank you.
Lori,
I see a loving, precious doggy in your photo and poem. Yes, “dog-kindness soothed” is the best thing we get from fur babies.
I’m so sorry to hear this, Lori! I love that picture of Jersey, and your poem is beautiful: “us / under the moon” is a lovely image to hold on to.
Lori, I am very sorry for the loss of your “loyal friend.” They are part of our families and our hearts, always. Thinking of you and of your shadow.
Awww, what a cutie. I’m so sorry for you and your family. I think your sweet Jersey will show up in spirit form more than you can imagine.
🌷
Ah, Lori, my condolences on the loss of Jersey, your sweet little shadow. His “dog-kindness” makes me teary-eyed thinking of beloved kind dogs. He would love this. Thanks for sharing his picture too.
Losing a beloved pet is so hard, Lori. Your poem is a lovely tribute.
Lori, so sorry for your loss. Your poem shows how devoted Jersey was with her “dog-kindness” that “soothed /years of human hurts.” Sending hugs and kind thoughts your way.
Oh, my heart breaks. Such a precious photo and tribute . Your title is perfect!
I am so sorry for your loss. It’s hard to lose a beloved pet. The picture is wonderful and I really appreciate the way darkness works in this poem – from shadow to sleepless nights to the moon, you evoke the sense that Jersey will always be with you in some way.
Denise, Here’s a poem I wrote for a similar prompt and included in a recent publication. I thought I’d share it again because it’s still true! And the AI-generated graphic turned out to be so “informative” to me as I reflected on ways memories painted pictures in my mind that I try to convey in my poem, then seeing how AI took those words and generated a graphic that looks so “familiar”. You know this is gonna be an assignment!
Whenever I see a tree,
I wonder how it’s related to me.
After reading Native American authors,
Who share compelling stories about
The interrelatedness of nature,
I’ve come to believe it’s true.
Say Redwood Tree in the Sequoias, you still look great!
Were you here as our ancestors crossed the Bering Strait?
Say Angel Oak Trees on Geechee Islands
Did my great-grandparents play under you?
Hey, Dutch Elms along our Motown Street,
That’s where we pre-teens used to meet
To play hopscotch when we were young.
And sip pilfered booze when we were not
But teens and thought we were so hot!
Doing the twist in the mist to the
Four Tops songs being sung.
Hey Palm Trees on Southern-Cal beaches.
I never knew how you could drink
When there was no rain,
But then, I remember, you’re created by God.
He designed it so you can survive in dry sod.
So, yes, I guess we are related, ‘cause
He also created me.
I’m so glad we all can co-exist,
Our Creator, thee, and me.
Anna, your poem does indeed represent the interdependence of nature’s creatures, all. I often walk in a nearby park early in the morning and am in awe of the relationships between plants and animals as the seasons change slowly but surely.
Anna, this is a keeper for sure! I am in love with majestic trees and your poem brings them to life in a special way. The AI graphic is cool!
Anna, I’m basking in the sweet stories of special trees in your life. I like how the first and last stanzas tie together the idea of all creation being related. Beautiful.
Denise,
Thanks for hosting and sending us to look at nature, one of my favorite topics.
I have not yet seen the Joshua Trees, so I appreciate your poems and photos which give me both a sense of hope “Decades later repair’s begun” and urgency/concern “Climate change warns today.” Nature’s amazing, but we’ve also done so much damage.
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Before Swimming
I lay under the pecan trees
shaded by their thin leaves
my thoughts float up
to blue sky
filtered by green leaves
I settle into the soft grass
————————————————————————————
Photo and some rambling about my process at Pedaling Poet
Sharon,
This is lovely. Your words construct the scene beautifully. I have a real sense of the picture.
Sharon, you create such a soft pastoral image with your poem.I imagine your thoughts floating like white light curly clouds. So lovely!
You’ve captured such summer serenity. I love how your title prepares us for the splash after the calm.
Sharon, you have captured the magic of leaves filtering the sun and yet opening just enough to to allow our thoughts to float up into the sky. Lovely
Sharon, I love, love your playing with the form and process you describe on your blog post. So fun. I wouldn’t recognize a pecan tree, but your photo makes it come alive, and I guess I might recognize it next time. I love “pecan trees” and “thin leaves.” Your poem brings peace and slows my breathing.
Your poem carries me to a place I long to be. Gorgeous imagery created with precise language. Love the s sounds which add a soft touch! Brilliant!
Sharon, you’re lying their under the pecan trees, and I can’t wait to be eating the pecans! You’re be blessed by the tree and the leaves now. I’ll be hoping they produce the nuts I love. Good for the tree who is a blessing through the seasons!
Denise, I’ve been thinking about so many who are affected by these fires and the wild, wild weather we’ve been having. I keep nurturing my small spaces in hopes that a ripple effect from many will eventually overcome. I LOVE your form of 2-4-6-8. I woke up the other morning to this greeter.
Dahlia Dweller
Petit
Floret is home
for this green, little guy
who’s small enough to safely hang.
Jennifer,
So much fun in your poem. The alliteration of
The double weight of “Petit” to describe both the flower and its guest,
The surprise of zooming in on the photo to find out who
is.
Nature’s so cool! Great photo and poem!
Jennifer, what a lovely picture capturing the little guy on the flower. I just love the sound play with “Petit / Floret” – such a masterful move!
Awww! Wouldn’t it be lovely to be so green and small and nestled in a petal? I love everything about this poem.
Jennifer,
Gorgeous flower. Love the alliteration.
Jennifer, this is an amazing image with a poem that depicts this little guy who “hangs on” and does his part in the circle of life. Lovely.
Jennifer, Your poem with the note that precedes it had me thinking of the how we are the ripple effect, and to think of us as the Dahlia Dwellers sitting in where we are needed.
Wow, what a great photo! I had a student named Dahlia and she was as beautiful as your flower. I can’t imagine how the little guy chose such a place to “hang” but I guess he knows best. 😃
Oh, my goodness, Jennifer, that is so precious! I don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a small green frog. I love that phrase, “small enough to safely hang.” (Did you catch Kim’s poem about a frog today, too?)
Wow, what a capture! Petit is striking first word. Your poem carries a lovely punch!
There is a FROG in that dahlia! I am in love! I also love the way you use “Petit” and the combination of petit floret – very clever! Wish I were small enough to safely hang in a flower.
Denise, thank you for hosting and your poems about Joshua trees. I am always amazed when we drive by them.
We went to our old friend’s birthday party today, so my photo and thoughts are about him.
The Man of the Day
Bill is
Turning ninety.
Today we celebrate
Life full of light, love, faith, and care.
Not a kin by blood, he became
A family when we
Needed it most–
God’s grace.
Leilya, the family we find is as important as the one we are born into. Birthday greetings to Bob on reaching such an important day. The light, love, faith, and care you have for him is evident in this special writing. I hope you’ve shared it with him!
Leilya,
I’m so moved by your poem’s ending:
What gifts. Both his friendship and your poem appreciating him.
The rising and falling syllable count works nicely to emphasize your words. Great job with the structure.
I’m always drawn to stories of friends who become family, and your poem pulled me right in. No wonder Bill is so loved!
Leilya,
Lovely tribute to Bill. Friends who become family are the best.
What a blessing, 90 years young! I hope it was a fantastic day for him and everyone there.
Happy birthday, Bill! That’s amazing–90! And I love the way you describe him–“he became / A family when we / needed it most” Your poem is a delight, and I hope you will share it with him.
Leilya, your closing lines pull at my heartstrings. Such a wonderful celebration of life and love!
Denise, thank you for hosting. I tried a few times to post but my photos were too large so the last time I failed to send you a heartfelt thank you for hosting. I love your photos and your poetry shows how vulnerable our world is. Fire and floods have sure been rife these past few weeks.
Nature’s Blessings
Wednesday’s
sunset delights
our bruised souls with cloud-
studded angel wings we embrace
Barb Edler
15 August 2026
Your poem and picture match perfectly! Bruised souls with a blue sky- studded are the clouds. I have read it multiple times and searching for more. Thank you
Barb, thank you for your powerful image and words. “Cloud studded Angel wings” is an image of such hope in these very scary weather, economic and political times.
Oh, Barb, the picture is gorgeous, and your imagery is stunning in”bruised souls with cloud-
studded angel wings.” Your poem makes me think about nature’s existence (or triumph, or just nature’s law) regardless of what is happening in human lives and souls. Beautiful!
Love this, Barb! “[C]loud- / studded angel wings” is such a great description, and it matches your image divinely!
Barb, first of all, what a beautiful photo, and secondly, what a beautiful poem to match! We sure need this to care for our bruised souls. You always find a way to write the truths we need.
Barb,
So much beauty in both your poem and your photo.
This phrase is powerful:
This sunset, and your poem, are blessings. I love the “cloud-studded angel wings.”
Barb,
I had little Barb on my shoulder as I wrote because I knew you’d give us brilliance w/ this prompt. I love ever image and metaphor: clouds compared to angel wings is beautiful and an image full of hope.
Barb, I have looked up to the Iowa sky hundreds–thousands–of times. Your poem captures why.
Gorgeous!!!
Love your photo, Allison! The sky has been amazing when it’s not raining:)
Wow!
Barb,
There’s so much depth in so few lines and the photo is magical! I wanted to sit under that sky and feel the embrace.
Barb, As you and Allison point out, the Iowa skies are second to none. I miss them. And angel wings in the clouds is a perfect metaphor. How the sunset “delights our bruised souls” is a warm and sweet image.
I know others have already commented on this but “our bruised souls” is gorgeous! Wow!
we called her “the elephant tree”
always
along the trail
she bends amiably
towards us, sweet reward for hill climbed
never
did we expect
to round the curve to sad:
her trunk severed, hearts broken
——
Denise, thank you for today’s prompt! Loved your poetry about Joshua Tree – may these trees always be. I was immediately reminded of my trail run yesterday, which was missing my favorite tree. I attempted your 2-4-6-8 form … great fun! I’m having trouble adding photos…will try to add in comments.
Here’s the tree “pruned”….
Maureen, I had trouble with the photo upload too. At least we both found success. I love the diction of your poem, especially amiably and sweet reward. The severed trunk is heart breaking. You’ve captured this moment well.
Maureen, your image as well as your words depicts the pain of environmental loss. That tree and stood through so much and by your side for so many runs before the broken heart of its loss was revealed. Oh my, I feel as if the tree is crying for so much loss within our environment.
Oh, no! Your pain is sensed through your words, Maureen. What a loss! I loved the image of the tree bending amiably.
Maureen, it’s amazing how much affinity we can have for a tree. I love the moniker you used and the line, “round the curve to sad.” Your poem speaks of her importance of her living and loss, her severing, your hearts broken. There was an iconic (dead) tree along one of our favorite hikes; she appeared in paintings, posters, photos – we returned one year to find her broken by vandals. It was such a loss.
Maureen,
Im so sorry for all who loved this tree. Your poem feels like a birth to death narrative. It’s a special tribute.
The elephant tree, loved by so many. A “sweet reward,” for sure. I’m sorry for the loss for all those who loved her. “trunk severed” is a powerful way to say it. And I loved “to round the curve to sad”
Denise—thank you for introducing me to your Joshua tree. Your spare words matched the image perfectly.
Old House
What stories do you have to tell?
Do you still hear small feet thudding down your halls?
Was there laughter? Were there tears?
Did you shine light through your windows,
beckoning your people home?
Where did they gather, your people?
Was there a fire to warm their cold hands,
a blanket to tuck around their feet?
Where did they burrow for hide and seek?
What corners did you give them?
Did they gather in your parlor for board games?
Did they kiss goodnight outside your door?
Did your kitchen smell like baking bread?
Were your rooms filled with love?
How did you feel
when your windows were flung open
in the spring?
Did you breathe deep?
Old house,
how does it feel to be left all alone,
when all the noise is gone?
GJSands
8/15/26
Gayle, my jaw has dropped, seeing this house and its golden backdrop and reading your poem of thinking back about its shelter and life, and now its dark corners of the rooms that have been abandoned in silence. Friend, this is spectacular poetry. I’m feeling the sadness for the house and just kind of want to take a chair and sit there and dwell.
What a beautiful poem accompanying a beautiful photo! I love all the love that you poured into that house, imagining the goodnight kisses, warm fire, gorgeous breezes when “windows were flung open/in spring air” – just lovely.
Gayle, your photograph is stunning and I love the narrator’s direct questioning. Your closing lines are poignant. You’ve captured a loss beautifully in this one.
Gayle, your image and words of a house lost to time is in striking contrast to the bright sunset in the background. You have captured in a powerful way the loss of both the physical space and all the many memories of people and animals who have called it home. Lovely
Gayle, this is beautiful. The questions bring the house in the photo to life. What a great pic!
I love these questions your speaker is asking of this old house, Gayle! The contrast (and melancholy) of the final question is perfect (and pairs so well with your image of the well-worn home vs the yellow sunrise/sunset)!
Gayle, if only this old house could tell stories. There would be answers to all your questions. What a breathtaking picture with the sunset (or sunrise?) background!
Oh gosh, Gayle. This poem broke me at the end. I think I’m feeling too much of the house just now. Your beautiful writing led us to fall in love with her and then mourn her just the same. The photo is just as beautiful. Thank you for giving me such an intense response.
You’ve made me tear up for this lovely, empty house! I loved it all, but my favorite stanza is: “How did you feel/when your windows were flung open/in the spring?/Did you breathe deep?”
Gayle, wow, that poem. So rich and full of life-giving questions. Then I saw the image. Then I read it again and wept. That direct address to the tired and empty house is so good. That last stanza, wow!
Hi Gayle,
I read your poem yesterday and knew I would return to it again. Today’s prompt from Patricia inspired me to write something connected to your poem. I will share it later today. Thank you for this beautiful photo and poem.
Thank you, Denise, for this inspiring prompt. Being a resident of the Mojave Desert as well, I appreciate the subtle power and endurance represented by the Joshua Tree.
This image of a beach in Hawaii got me started.
On the Beach
Silky,
Golden sands scrub,
My toes; rhythmic heartbeat
In sync with every rolling wave.
Hi Shaun,
I want to be right there!! It’s been too long since I’ve been to Hawaii. Thank you for reminding me of its beauty.
Gorgeous! This photo invites us to move with the waves…I love your imagery of toes moving “in sync with every rolling wave.”
Shaun, I want to feel those rolling waves, too. Gorgeous photo and poem!
Shaun, that is an image and those are words that speak to my best memories and greatest levels of relaxation. I am hoping it was a great vacation for you!
Shaun, the image looks like a corner in the paradise, and your poem makes me want to walk on that sand and let my feet rest in this silky, golden sand. Wonderful!
Such a rhythmic flow to your lines, Shaun; I love all those S sounds in each line! And your image is gorgeous, too!
Oh, Shaun, what lyrical magic you created here. It is making me daydream of the beauty and heartbeat of being on that beach. Beautiful!
Denise your powerful images of hope after devastating events brings me great hope I have spent the past week immersed in the trials and tribulations of our legal system attempting to do my part as a citizen and the bleakest of stories has made it hard to smile of find hope that we all need to make a difference. I tried to do a poem about the strength and hope I always see in sunflowers that stand tall after storms tear through their fields.
Facing
Sunshine, hoping
Living, standing tall, proud,
Bright reminders to look up.
Anita—it’s getting tougher to find the optimism, isn’t it? The sunflower image is one we should keep in mind when times are scary…
Anita, I love them too and your poem is a reminder we all need during these difficult days. Someone else wrote about sunflowers today! Check out Emily’s poem. 🌻
Anita, those flowers are numerous here, and still blooming over at the peach orchard at least, and they make the best backdrop for photos! I have the image of them turning their faces to the sun as I read your last line today.
I’ve been reminding myself to “look up” … the beauty of our world – sunflowers, trees, sky, stars – is very reassuring in the midst of so many bleak and despairing situations.
Anita, I feel your pain, and I love how you’ve captured hope. Your poem’s last line is delivered perfectly.
Sunflowers are filled with “sunshine, hoping!” Thanks for the reminder that nature shows us so many reasons to look above and beyond all the pain around us.
Anita, yikes, I do appreciate the legal system and the citizens who make it more just with their service on juries. Were you on a grand jury? I’m sorry you had to hear “the bleakest of stories.” Yes, to hope in the standing tall after a storm. I love your sunflowers (and us) “Facing / Sunshine.”
Anita,
I love this ode to sunflowers. They do stand tall no matter what force tries to pull them down. We planted some this year. Next year they’re going along the back fence.
Yes, Anita, you captured strength, hope, and resilience of sunflowers. They are very special to me. Thank you!
Denise, thanks for today’s prompt and your poem about Joshua Trees. I was lucky to get out there a few years ago to see them. I love your rhyme at the end of each stanza.Jamie
The August garden
Praise those plants who hold on –
the mint and the hoja santa hold thanks to my watering
of the few bushy eggplants a little fruit reflects their effort
I wish the scraggly tomato plants find energy to create a bloom
peppers remain abundant affording us a variety
some spicy, some sweet or mild
watering allows me to keep watch
still some time til the bend in temperature starts its downward turn
to garden one must have faith
with no change in coming days I’m reminded to get out before noon
and continue to admire growth
Hi Jamie,
I love that you chose to focus on gardening and plant lifecycles. I ADORE your first line because it’s reminding us to stay strong, almost like the sunflower poems I’ve read here today.
Jamie, I’m pulling for the plants! I’m praising the pansies that are still blooming – still blooming in all this heat – left over from winter. Your first word, first line, first thought of giving positive accolades, made me smile and cheer and then the stark truth: to garden one must have faith. Truer words never spoken! Poetry gets to the root of it all (no pun intended).
I am awed by the plants that survive this turbulent rain and heat of our summer here in mid-Atlantic…and your opening line is so poetic and prayerful – “praise those plants who hold on”.
Jamie, your poem radiates strength and resilience. I love the opening line and the “scraggly tomato plants find energy to create a bloom”. Our time in nature can be regulated by heat and weather. I love how your closing lines show this.
Jamie, it has been a very tough year for farmers and back years gardeners with torrential rains, vicious winds and then blistering hot stretches in the Northeast! I really love how you praise those “plants who hold on” with a little bit of your help and their own persistence that comes shining through your words. Your vow to “admire their growth” as the season draws to an end is a clear respect for nature and its role in making all the growth possible.
Jamie,
Love this poem of gratitude and reflection.
My favorite lines:
Sounds like teaching. Probably because of all the wisdom you gained and shared while teaching. I like that you’re now applying your wisdom to gardening, moving at a bit of a more relaxed pace than our colleagues who are returning to teaching this week.
Jamie, love the nature you bathed in today, and the thought of “The August garden”–hanging on, scraggly, extra effort. Yes, very admirable, and your poem is a lovely ode to this late summer beauty.
Manicules
fingers
in the margins
as a way to highlight
age-old, medieval manuscripts
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Thank you, Denise, for this nature prompt today! I love your images and the importance and truth of your climate change warning. For my offering, I was thinking about what nature image I would use when I stumbled across these annotations “in the wild” (see what I did there? lol) from various medieval scribes. The Folger Shakespeare Library has a collection of these annotations. Here’s a link. Take a look if you’re interested in being flipped off by a Benedictine monk annotating a book by Erasmus. Seriously!
Scott, thanks for sharing the link to historic bird-flipping! It made my day, and may also make my lesson on annotations a bit more engaging! I wonder how well my “little monks-in-training” would render a manicule…
Thanks, Scott! Now I need to find a way of working my new favorite word, “manicule” into conversation!
Scott, this was fun! I love getting a glimpse into another reader’s thoughts on a text. I’m delighted that you captured that in your poem and led me to a fascinating link.
Oh, my goodness! I learned something new today. How did I never wonder how long people have been flipping off with this finger. Love that you were inspired by the “in the wild” annotations of manicules and love your 2-4-6-8 poem, Scott.
Pruned
nelly
stevens lost her
spine. Posture branched holly
leaves shading neighbor’s glare no more.
Uh oh! I’m wondering if you’ve had crazy weather in OK like we have been having. So many trees down everywhere. It’s very sad.
I had to look up what Nelly Stevens is, and who knew it was a kind of holly. It sounds like she got quite the pruning! Fun metaphoric writing, Sarah.
“Lost her spine” is jarring. I have a photo of a downed oak in my neighborhood. I respond to a fallen tree with a prayer.
Sarah, I love your poem about nature’s pruning. Your play with personification allows to recognize the loss of privacy.
Sarah, I love your opening lines and the personification in this one. I love the closing lines that add a social element to the poem. Holly and trees have a way of offering privacy and shade, but when they disappear a new truth can be revealed.
Oh, dear! a sudden sharp pruning…by nature? I hope she’s OK. Dare glare!
I enjoyed your adherence to Denise’s 2-4-6-8 structure. Isn’t it fun to push against a form?
Sarah,
Im sure the tree appreciated getting pruned. It’s like a tree spa day. I like the ambiguity in “leaves shading neighbor’s glare no more.” We’ve had tree drama w/ the people behind our house resulting from their frees damaging the fence. They finally had the trees removed but did not take any responsibility for damage to the fence.
Hi Denise and Ethical ELA Fam! So happy it’s time to write together. I love ekphrastic nature poems because I have so many nature photos from my walks. However, today’s photo and poem are grim. I saw the story on the news and my heart broke. But I also learned a lesson from the tragedy. NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE A PHOTO. STAY IN THE MOMENT AND PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR SURROUNDINGS.
In memory of Zachary Nicholas Mertens
Tourist
Falls to meet death
While taking photos at
South Falls at Silver Falls State Park
©Stacey L. Joy, 8/15/26
Stacey, while traveling this year, we saw lots of signs to tourists saying “put the phone down” and “come in for a beer” or wine or coffee or some delicious food. But this, this story is tragic. What we miss, what we will never see again.
It is a beautiful headline poem that says it all in its brevity.
Stacey, thank you for sharing this memorial poem. The matter-of-fact reporting is abrupt, and sad in its truth. I’m glad you got in the reason. “Falls to meet death” is powerful. I like the two meanings of Falls in the poem too.
What a sad story. It could serve as a warning for some of the people who are so obsessed with their phones.
Such a sad loss! In retirement, are you learning the lesson of staying in the moment? It’s a hard one, yet so important.
Powerful headline poem, Stacey. A reminder to stay present!
Stacey, you put a sobering spin on the peace of nature, giving us a needed reminder that even the most tranquil places can be a cruel and dangerous place if we are not fully present and aware. This is a tribute to a tourist dying doing what he loved — preserving the beauty of nature – the very beauty that swept him away. I like your spin here today.
Stacey, your poem is a striking reminder of how fragile life is. As much as we desire a perfect angle, we need to remember our own safety. This is tragic.
Stacey, I too read about that poor soul and his loss in an attempt to “capture the moment”. In an era when so many of us try to save images of every event and potentially significant moment with our ever ready image capturing phones, your reminder to live in the moment is important and this poem serves as a reminder of the potential loss of everything that is most important.
Oh, how tragic…your poem should be on a sign at the park!
Thank you for posting on FB today. I just saw it and realized I’d missed our first day. What a sad ending for Zach. When we were at Yosemite Falls, the park ranger warned tourists that one of the college volunteers had stepped over the fence for a photo before falling to her death. What a loss.
Stacey,
Your poem feels like a Yellowstone NP event. I love how you placed the poem at the bottom of the Canva to give a sense of falling.
Only thirty days
A year
The sunflower blooms
Both the bees and I know
That instead of flying past
To stop
See the yellow petals
Sit upon its seeds
This field of hope
In a week she’ll be gone
Across the sea to college
My last little bee
To fly.
How did eighteen years go so fast
What will I do without
This field of gold?
Soak up the scent of
Sunflowers
And daughters
Wishing they could always stay.
Holding to hope, knowing
Next year,
The sunflower will bloom
Again.
Oh, Emily. Beautiful. In a week, she’ll be gone — that’s quite an intimate line, with layers of meaning for me in flowers and daughters sisters and friends and all the things that we can celebrate while they are here. “The sunflower will bloom/again” — made me wonder if it is like a tulip, does it bloom again from the same bulb or whatever is anchored in the earth. I could google it, but I like wondering for now.
Emily, this is gorgeous!
My heart goes out to you. I remember how sad I felt when my youngest went away to college. It’ll get better and you’ll soak up her scent again soon. My mom adored sunflowers so I am feeling this poem and your photo in my heart.
Emily, your beautiful poem is a mentor text on how to use metaphor in a poem. Such magic in these lines and emotions, nature and daughters. So rich and full. “This field of hope” is perhaps my favorite line of all, but there are many. So much hope in your poem.
I think I hear the tears falling between the lines. I know this feeling. I launched three daughters into the world. The sunflower will bloom again. Something I am sure of is they never leave you!
This poem reached into my heart, this stanza most of all:
“Soak up the scent of
Sunflowers
And daughters
Wishing they could always stay.”
it made me wish my girls were here with me right now…
Emily, I too wrote of the powerful image of a sunflower; however, my poem reflects the only the hopeful image after my own week immersed in the sadness after serving jury duty! In a powerful way, you captured the strength of the flower as well as the short time we have to enjoy those moments and the promise of return. I will be thinking of you as you send your precious one off to college and adventures. I remember how proud and sad I was when I was in your shoes. Hugs.
Oh, my…I was unprepared for the emotion that was going to get me by the time I got to the phrase, “and daughters.” Wow. What a beautiful weaving of time and blossoming. Well done.
Thank you for this lovely poem. “Both the bees and I know–” <3
Thank you for the noticing. (What will I do without this field of gold?) Oliver’s paying attention. Thank you for feeling the moments of your life and putting them to the page.
<3
Denise, I love this form you made up! I could see it being addictive for me. I want to go through my entire camera roll right now and try some more.
Oh, Canada!
By Mo Daley 8/15/26
We stop
the drive home to
wonder at the Great Lake
Huron, a bird call interrupts
My husband got distracted.
I relate to this! So often, my family waits for me because of the bird call interrupting!
Isn’t this a fun form! You captured the beauty and the bird’s distraction well in only 4 lines. Have fun!
I am reading the title with several voice right now. Oh, Canada like talking to a child or like I forgot about her or some discovery. Lots of tonal shifts right there. And I like the wonder word here that leaves it open to internal or conersational wondering together that was kept private from the poem’s reader. And that bird, are they saying Oh, Canada or thanks for stopping by.
Mo, what fun. I love the title, and I was just looking at a map wondering where you were as you “wonder at the Great Lake / Huron.” Love the photo that shows the welcome interruption and appreciation of the bird call.
Mo, I’m heading to Canada next weekend! Bird calls interrupt me daily. Maybe I can use this form to capture a poem daily on our trip. (Montreal, here we come!)
Mo! I love the movement in this short piece. I felt I was there on the trail, stopped in my tracks by the most interesting bird call.
Denise,
I have high hopes for those Joshua trees. I’ve never seen one in real life. I love how you help me appreciate the beauty of the desert.
I was recently inspired by a photograph of a spider web to write a 6-room poem that comes from Georgia Heard’s book Writing from the Heart.
On the Trail A Web Appears
As morning sun
reveals a white web print,
a glistening orb among branches,
peaceful silence
takes me home
to the piney forest
dodging webs, following trails,
discovering paths
of imperfect perfect design
into arms of silk,
arms of silk,
silken arms.
(The photo was taken by Molly Hogan.)
I love the imperfect perfect line. That’s how I want to think of myself today. I also love the repetition in the end of your poem.
Imperfect perfect design – love that line! It’s always healing to get out into nature. Thanks for the poetic respite, Margaret.
I love that this explorer is dodging webs; they seem to know they are visitors and don’t want to disturb the spider’s creation (or just not get web in their hair). But that “imperfect perfect design/into arms of silk” — lovely, lovely.
The gentle voice in your poem matches the gentle “imperfect perfect design” of the web in Molly’s photo. And that repetition at the end adds to the gentleness I’m feeling, even in the busyness of the middle portion “dodging webs, following trails, / discovering paths” Beautiful, Margaret.
Margaret, thank you for allowing me a pause to view the web with you in the woods. The delicate addition to the hard wood.
Margaret— I feel the peace in your poem. But I love the repetition in the end the most. It slows the poem down, bringing it to a perfect, quiet close.
I think you have a lot of web poems in you! Love it.
Thank you for sending me into my camera roll this morning, Denise! I typed “nature” into the search bar, and I was amazed at all of the beautiful photos I had that I had failed to appreciate.
You sure reside among such beauty and you clearly take it all in!
Sunset
Golden hour
Clouds once blocking
Now enhancing
Only nature can create
That beauty
Oh, such appreciation here in the noticing of time creating new scenes like “once blocking/Now enhancing. That is beautiful, Susan.
Susan, we see these cloud-enhanced golden hour sunsets around here. I love how you so succinctly and poetically described the cloudy days turning into this magic. “Only nature can create / That beauty” So true!
Hi Susan,
Golden hour is the most magical time of everyday! I just wish I could witness it more closely here without traveling to the beach. Thank you for this beauty in poetry and photo.
simply gorgeous! Look at that sky, the Good Lord’s palette of watercolor perfection. And your poetry captures it beautifully.
Susan-I grew up taking sunsets like that for granted. I miss them so much now! Golden hour, indeed.
Denise, thank you for the prompt to think about nature in a short form poem today! I love your photos! I took a picture of my front porch tree frog who jumped onto the loveseat with me during a recent Google Meet. He lives under a grill cover and also likes to hitch rides on the watering can when I water plants. Since the photo of him is a reflection in the water, I wrote a 24688642 to show the reflection. You can see the photo that inspired the poem on my blog post today at http://www.kimhaynesjohnson.com.
Front Porch Tree Frog
front porch
tree frog hops up
on my watering jug
like The Lorax, speaking for plants
he lives under the Blackstone grill
with his lady frog friend
(we shall not cook
frog legs)
Love it!! I know those tree frogs bring in the rain in Ga. – when they start talking!!
Kim, love this little story of your tree frog pair, and the photo is great. I’m thinking of the tree frog “like The Lorax, speaking for plants” and I like that even better after I read Clayton’s comment. Those last two lines made me smile!
This is too cute. Thanks for the link to your blog. The poem and the frog’s reflection, PERFECT! And happy retirement!!
🐸
Kim, I love the humor you share in the story youhave built of the frog joining you to water. You show us your symbiotic relationship with one on your porch. A tiny frog left as I began watering a few pots at the base of the tree this morning. Guess, we’re not alone.
👏🏻 The ending made me smile!
Kim, oh what fun. I hear your voice in every line, the loving humor at the end lands perfectly. We get a lot of tree frogs around our house so your poem resonates. Awesome!
Kim, this is wonderful and fun and a reminder of the great entertainment of nature! Your image of the tree frog advocating for the plants is powerful and your last lines about not eating frog legs is a wonderful ending. I am smiling from MY porch as my local chipmunks scurry about their business!
lady frog friend, for the win. I love that.
I clicked over to check out the little guy’s photo – love him! I smiled throughout this celebration of your little frog friend.
Kim,
This is delightful. I really need photos of that frog and his lady frog friend. I can hear him croaking a love song to his mate, such a delightful sound on warm summer nights.
days ephemeral
spin, spinner, spin your silk thread
summer ends soon now
I really love the alliteration and repetition in your poem. It create a lovely rhythm. And the reminder of summer soon coming to an end. (It went too fast again!)
Linda, I love the urgency in your poem. “spin, spinner, spin” while you have these summer days. Summer does seem ephemeral, especially when one is in education.
Love all the “s’s” in this poem as summer slips away!
I love a “s” alliteration! Perfect choices for 3 lines.
Linda, your poem gives me the vibes of fall – – I can feel the cooler wind as I read it, and that makes my soul happy.
Your second line is perfection!
Granddaddy
There it still stands,
Holding on with callous hands,
Rusty nails,
Gripping timeless tales,
Rotten boards,
Covering a forgotten hoard,
Of difficult-simple times,
Where hands and hearts intertwined.
Tin tapping with each slight wind,
Drumming notes of a time back when.
His hammer clutched to the wall,
A sacrifice he gave to us all.
Though my son grips a book,
I kneel and teach him to look.
Beyond the barn nestled in snow,
into a time we inherently owe,
everything,
because of him,
we grow,
for we are his crop,
he did sew.
Listen to the barn,
creaking in the wind,
rattling the gifts,
of back when.
The caw of the crow,
with hoots of an owl,
scurry of squirrels,
and distant coyote howls.
Ancestral spirits,
speak as we pause,
our blood line,
carry on,
his cause.
Honor, love, family,
respect, character,dignity,
the foundation of the barn,
will always be,
embedded in
you and me.
My hands are rough,
yours are tender,
hold my hand,
Feel the barn,
look- remember.
Bring your son,
when I am gone,
hold is hand,
Look- Listen,
Carry- on.
– Boxer
Clayton, this is a wonderful tribute. I so appreciate “simple hard times” as a line. It goes well with the rough wood of a barn that has a hammer clutched to the wall. What a beautiful place to be able to see and visit.
Oh, Clayton. That last stanza stole my heart…
Wow, Clayton, what a beautiful ode to your Granddaddy and his barn. The love, the respect across the generations is brilliantly articulated. “Look- Listen, / Carry- on.” A beautiful description of the passing on of the family legacy. Thank you, Boxer.
Beautiful, powerful poem, Clayton. Carry on!
Clayton, I am in love with your poem and the image. I can feel the spirit of love, care, and wisdom throughout. I believe your son will return and carry the tradition. 💙
Clayton, this picture is as Georgia Currier and Ives as it gets! I love the snow, the rustic landscape and the feeling of those hard and simple times. That last stanza is one for the books, my friend. The passing of the torch to the next generation, instilling the love and values we have taught and finding the peace that they will carry on when our time comes. Beautiful.
Oh, Clayton, this poem is wonderfully moving! I’m honored to have read about your Granddaddy and his land and your commitment to sharing his legacy with your son.