Another example of Found Poetry is poetry you find in unexpected places. The following is from the quay along the Queenstown docks, bits of engraved brass worked into the stone. The words are from the travel journal of one of the early explorers of Queenstown, NZ and they ramble along the wall in a ribbon of poetry. I have condensed three panels into this picture. For the purposes of this exercise, I’m making a new poem out of them by deconstructing. All words of the new poem are contained in the original script but may be out of order.Continue reading “Found Poetry February day 4 – Spring Sky – deconstructed poem”→
I watched her roll out the dough. Her hands were worn and gnarled with age but strong and gentle still. The cookies would soon fill her kitchen with the heady scent of sugar and flour, and love. Her secret ingredient remains a secret to this day. I think it was love.
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Queenstown is the Extreme Sports capital of New Zealand, probably of the world. Name an extreme sport and chances are if it’s not readily available, they can arrange it for you. So what do two, non-sports (much less extreme sports) oriented older people do in Queenstown? We’ve taken the bus into “The Remarkables” shopping area, wandered the town’s back streets and lakeside neighborhoods. We’ve walked along the lake and stopped for tea and scones at a wonderful little coffee shop or two. Been revitalized at the Hilton’s wonderful spa. For our final day of wanderings, we set back across Lake Wakatipu to the Queenstown docks and the Queenstown Gardens.Continue reading “Wide Eyed Wanderings — Queenstown Gardens, New Zealand”→
She lay crouched, belly low to the ground. The grass waved a bit above her stealthy form. Eyes focused intently, it was there, she knew it was, she had seen it only moments ago. What was it? Would it come again? The curiosity was like an itch screaming to be scratched. Still she waited, barely breathing, low and slow she crept ever closer. Suddenly, there it was a scant movement of the soil. Wait, wait … and she pounced, GOTCHA!
“Snowball it’s time for dinner,” her human’s voice rang from the front stoop. Snowball proudly carried her prize, a tiny mole, dropping it at the human’s feet.