As predicted the monsoon season is here at last. Last night it rained, life giving liquid washed over the desert.
Sunday Whirl Wordle
World galloping
Fluttered buzz
Logic instinct
Poem river
Resist whim
Though twisted
The Words are Waiting
Floating down the river
Twisted in the debris
The words are waiting
To become the poem
The buzz made by the words
Bumping together
Like the soft hum of a lone bee
Though the meaning
Is unclear — twisted
And wrung out to dry
Crackles in the wind
The world waits
The words flutter down
Upon the page
There is no logic
It is the instinct
For survival
Hug the body
With my knees
Galloping
Across the plane
There is no resistance
In the wind
The words are waiting
To become the poem
Sunday Scribbling prompt The Woods
The Woods
All is dry
Thirst for water
Sun shines bright
Tinder box
Waiting to explode
No, you may not go there
No one is allowed
Waiting for the promised water
All is dry
The relentless sun
Continues to shine
Tinder box
Like the beating heart within
Waiting to explode
No one is allowed
In the woods
annellannell 
Glad you finally got the rain. Although I understand what you call ‘product’, don’t we all have to start somewhere and then hopefully learn what we need from what we produce?
Elizabeth
Wish you had been with me. I am speaking only for myself. I did not see work that inspired. And an art fair is supposed to show you the “best.” Dealers come from all over, and it just seemed the work lacked something, or maybe the choices lacked something.
The monsoon season is predicted to be usual. Yes, we so need the rain. But it is still hot! And the fire still burns in the mountains. I think I am feeling my soul is burned, just a crisp. I am seeking renewal. Looking toward to fall, the world cools off, and though it is near the end of the year, I always feel renewal. Annell Livingston HC 74 Box 21860 El Prado, NM 87529
annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com http://www.somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com https://annellannell.wordpress.com
it just takes an artist to realise and put them together in such a way as they sing…nice.
Two incredible poems. Thank you.
You gathered those floating words and made perfect sense..like the sticks exhausted from the fires you tended them and put them back together..it’s a whole new concept not being allowed in the woods..creates it’s own unease..Jae
I’m happy you’ve gotten some rain, and hoping you get lots and lots more. steady and soaking. like your words.
Back again for the wordle. Really like what you did. That is how poems in the making feel, chasing after words, that are whispers, that flutter at the ear, and the hearer waits, as the words wait, to become the poem.
And yes, I do understand. Sometimes it all feels far away and somehow like its behind a glass wall, unreachable, there but not quite.
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/
i really like thinking about words waiting for the poem. I think this is true really. The words are there. It is only up to us to find inspiration to put them together poetically.
I love the idea of words floating! Such a beautiful interpretation~
Both poems are excellent; I especially identified with the first one about the words waiting to become the poem.
A couple of notes about possible typos: in the first poem, did you mean “wrung” instead of “rung”, and in the second, “tinder” instead of “tender”?
Thanks for your comments and your notes. Annell Livingston HC 74 Box 21860 El Prado, NM 87529
annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com http://www.somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com https://annellannell.wordpress.com
Loved the repetition, the tense warning. I am so thankful for recent rain. We were getting very dry. Excellent job.
http://henryclemmonspoet.blogspot.com/2011/07/encroachment.html