Pink Remembering

Pink park NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Spring recalls

How bushes previously bared

By frost and freeze,

Found a new lease

To bubble forth

A pink exuberance.

It is a good remembering

As fall emerges

To reclaim

The bushes’ leaves

Ahead of winter’s

Naked sleep.

 

 

For Pink: September Squares

 

Autumn’s Call

EarlyFall NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Trees will soon

Heed the call

To dress leaves

To enthrall

In the glorious

Ball

Foretelling cold

Yet to

Fall.

 

 

For the Sunday Stills challenge: Autumn

 

Pink For A Queen

pink patch NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

There was a small patch

Of pink

In the large sea

Of green.

Flowers with

Heads together

Like bouquets

Fit for a queen.

 

 

For the September Pink Squares Challenge

 

 

Questions of Color

Colorless park NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

What will be

Of the day,

He so wanted

To say,

If you suddenly

Drain

All the color away?

Will the birds’ calls

Remain?

Will leaves still

With wind sway?

Will it be

As before

Or fade wholly

To gray?

 

For Cee’s Black & White Challenge: Trees

 

Park Pretty

May NYC1 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

“Pink tree!” she delighted

Toddled quickly, pulled my hand

“Park pretty!” she exclaimed

“Come fast! Come fast!”

“Take picture?” she requested

And of course, I obliged.

 

 

For the Sunday Stills Photo Challenge

 

Peace Point

 


Central Park Reservior NaamaYehuda

Central Park, NYC (Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

The more chaotic life becomes

With power hungers gaining ground,

The more determined then I am

To point the beauty that surrounds,

The heart and kindness that abound

And the true peace that won’t succumb.

 

 

For The Wits End Weekly Photo Challenge

Make Way

Mulch path Central Park NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

There’s a path in the park

Lined by mulch from trees past

So that every step presses

What had grown,

What won’t last.

 

 

For Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge

A Shared World

central park1 May2018 NaamaYehuda

Central Park, NYC; Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

In the midst of the bustle,

The hectic,

The cramped,

A shared world

Sprawls lush green:

Just a few steps

Within

A deep breath

And some peace

To partake in.

 

 

For Cee’s Share Your World Challenge

Recharging Place

May NYC2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

The green lung of the City

In verdure cape

Blooms anew.

Living room and backyard

It knows just

What to do:

Communal Central Park

Breathing life

Into you.

 

For The Photo Challenge

Jujus

magic all around you

Photo: Samantha Mars

 

She dragged her book bag up the stairs.

Step, bang. Step, bang.

“It looks heavy,” I noted.

“Yeah,” she huffed and paused to frown in the direction of the patchwork of princesses on the backpack. I found myself wondering whether she was directing discontent at her idolized figures not using their royal powers to, at the very least, summon genie help to manage gravity.

“Want me to help carry the bag for you?” I offered.

She raised an eyebrow as if the mere thought of my definitely-not-princess hands handling her bag was beneath the Disney figures that dignified it.

The first-grader lugged the bag another step and stopped, perhaps to reconsider if there are times when commoners’ help is better than none at all. “Yeah,” she nodded.

I walked down to take the bag from her. The thing was heavy!

“What do you have in there?!” I asked. “Rocks?!”

“Aha,” she nodded sagely, skipped a few steps up ahead of me and swiveled her head to look back at me. “Come faster. I want to show you.”

I lifted the bag (and an eyebrow) in her direction and she giggled. “Sorry… Thanks.”

Once upstairs she indicated I was to clear space for whatever that was, then ceremoniously unzipped the top of her school bag and pulled out a succession of boulders. She placed each with care onto the desk. Several pounds of them.

I waited. The lot looked to me like run-of-the-mill New York stones: mostly dark gray schist dappled with a bit of quartz glint.

She leaned back in her chair and waited. Clearly a reaction was warranted.

“That’s a lot of rocks!” I managed.

“Not regular rocks,” she admonished. “These have magic.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she proclaimed. “They have real magic. And gold, too. Inside.”

I tilted my head a bit to one side and nodded my interest.

She narrowed her eyes at me, weighing the merits of talking to grown ups about matters of magic and gold. “They can even make your wishes come true …”

“But … ” she regarded me before adding, a bit haughtily and perhaps to punish me for my lack of immediate awe, “you do have to believe in them, so they’ll only do the magic for me.”

 

 

For The Daily Post