Carys Owen Poetry

I left town years ago

and moved to the woods

with a forest

for a back yard

~ trilliums in spring

mushrooms in fall ~

.

a grassy clearing

perfect for daisies

bordered by fiddleheads

tended by deer

.

maple saplings shoot up

fresh and green

grand fur stretch overhead

moss carpets the shade

and just beyond

.

are skunk cabbage, huckleberry

salmonberry, sword fern

fawn lilies, ocean spray

Oregon grape, vanilla leaf

licorice fern, lupins

columbines, dandelions

cedar, oak and hemlock

.

I asked around

and they all agreed-

none of them

are weeds

.

By Carys Owen

Written for the dVerse Poetry prompt of ‘Weeds’

I live in two worlds

separated by vast waters

~ half a lifetime in each ~

my heart shared

between

touchstones

.

Here on an island

wild and rugged

where I walk the beach

daily and traverse

forests to reach

home

.

There on an island

with my daughter

~ a windswept beach

and a bus ride home

to Zoom with my son

her brother

.

Our orbits

sometimes align

but mostly I am resigned

to drift happily between

two worlds

oceans apart

.

By Carys Owen

Written for a prompt about place and space by d’Verse Poetics

It’s not in the history

nor is it in the yet to come

it’s not in it’s melody

nor in the shape it holds

.

This friendship

is a rare and wondrous thing

that sits right here

in the breaths

we take

and listens

whole-heartedly

.

By Carys Owen

.

This quadrille about friendship was written to include a line from a blogger friend’s poem…it ended up being inspired by his whole poem! Thanks Bjorn Rudberg !

Any dVerse poets who wish to use a line from one of my poems are welcome to do so, please credit me and link back to my poem- cheers!

This kiss has travelled miles

kept safe in a pocket

wrapped in silk

it has journeyed oceans

and rocky trails

burning a hole

through days

impatient to be planted

on my lover’s lips

.

this kiss

 .

and

.

this kiss

.

and

.

this

.

kiss

.

By Carys Owen

.

A ‘golden oldie’ from my book ‘Into the Ordinary’ for

She sits on my feet

these days

needful of touch

no words

just love

.

We equal each other

breathing together

sharing a pulse

best friends

for a lifetime

.

Hard to imagine

another way

as we amble

through days

hearts like diamonds

.

By Carys Owen

Yesterday an eagle

flew overhead

trailing a slender

branch from her

talons

.

Signalling spring

time to think about

nests and eggs

time to fall

in love

.

Time to watch

life grow

time to

bask in the sun

and be thankful

.

By Carys Owen

‘Tidy your room’, his Mum said,

the same Mum who loved to leave

a trail of evidence behind her

as she travelled through childhood

.

A book she read, a sketch half done

some Lego and an apple core

a sock, some Pokemon cards

a rainbow of pens

‘Tidy your room every day’ I urged

‘no matter how tired you are’

.

Forgetting that I was the one

who accepted praise for

an immaculate room until

my Mum thought to look

under the bed

.

I wonder if my mother’s mother

suffered the same tribulations,

fearing for the state

of civilization?

.

In their defense

these busy souls have no time

to fold their clothes and put them away

when there are books to get lost in

daydreams to dream

skateboards to ride

games to invent

hideouts to build

snacks to concoct

and music to play

.

By Carys Owen

.

Based on the prompt of incorporating a specific piece of advice into a poem-

‘At the end of each day fold your clothes and put them away, no matter how tired you are.’

d’Verse Poet’s Pub

It crept up on me, unexpected

~ the wonder of grandmotherhood ~

‘I’ll call you Bibi’ he said

and off we went

never stopping

never looking back

forging ahead into

adventure and discovery

learning each other’s faces on Zoom

finding out about galaxies

whales, dinosaurs, trees

new species, curious facts

~ did you know sea otters have pockets?

writing poetry together

one

word

at

a

time

recognizing that cheeky grin

warning of mischief

meeting in this world

where we can hug and laugh

running across the field

a football between us

‘Yes, please call me Bibi’

I reply

breathlessly

.

By Carys Owen

Snow falls from

his fingertips

creating a blizzard

of fresh powder

as he shakes hands

with winter

.

He dives right in

with the wonder

of his eleven years

unable to believe

the lightness of crystals

the chill of ice on lips

the shiver of meltwater

the freedom of falling

over and over

leaving his imprint

~ now a dance

frozen in time ~

.

His laughter rings

in crisp air

and all the

winter dreams

he dreamt

are coming true

.

By Carys Owen

(i)

Across the water

I see a canoe

travelling onward

skimming the waves

it is mine to fill

with the ones I love

my children, their children

we paddle together

present, content

it helps me make sense

of the distance between us

.

(ii)

Walking in a gallery

on a trip to Tofino

we bathe in the imagery

take imaginary journeys

and my grandson

chooses a card to

carry home across the sea

to frame and remember

this family togetherness

~ it is a canoe

filled with ancestors

.

By Carys Owen

dVerse- poet’s pub- Poetics Tuesday