Posted in Making Memories, micropoetry, Poem, Poetry, Reflections, Writing

On a blue note | #Ronovan Writes #Haiku #Challenge 367

jazz notes in the dark
send me back to memories—
when our world was new

one more kiss…one last caress
’til eternity with you

Copyright © 2021•07•19, by Liz Bennefeld.

Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 367 NOTE and Send.

The image at the top of the page is by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Posted in Discover Prompts, life through my windows, Making Memories, napowrimo, Personal, Photography, Poem, Poetry, tanka

All-American Sport: Mud Wrestling

cocker spaniel puppies wrestling in the rain and mud, April 2016
Scampers in the Mud. No Joke!

setting out to play
in the midst of April’s rain
muddy paws and cold

hurry inside where it’s warm
towels, baths, warm food, and hugs

[tanka.] Copyright © 2020-04-01, by Lizl Bennefeld.
All rights reserved.

Prompt for 1 April: Joke.

Posted in life through my windows, Making Memories, Personal, Poem, Poetry, tanka, Writing

Looking for Spring | #RonovanWrites #Haiku #Weekly #Poetry #Challenge March & Dream

Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #289 Dream&March

 

skateboarder in the air, driveway next to pickup truck
It Must Be Spring

 

I dream of springtime—
the end of March…the melting
of winter’s cold heart

soon I’ll rescue May beetles
and take long walks in the park

Copyright © 2020-01-20, Lizl Bennefeld. All rights reserved.

Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge

Inspiration for today’s poem: For some reason, all of our cocker spaniels, beginning with Ladd, have hunted down May beetles/June bugs, thinking them to be some sort of toys. Forever having to rescue the poor things from the backsteps lights and being batted about by puppy paws. Ladd also liked to catch crickets in his mouth and wonder at their bouncing around on his tongue; at least he let them go…or lost them, when he spit them out to stare at them.

Posted in Making Memories, Personal, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Reflections, Uncategorized, Writing

Reaching for the Sky (a retrospective)

Outstretched Arms (© 2008-11-03)

“Reaching Together for the Sky”

I believe there comes a time—
wakening from doze or sleep—
when mind and body listen
to each other, and
between

one breath
and
the next

the mind hesitates,
then says, No more
and the body says,
No more…
and neither
takes that one last breath

“Reaching Together for the Sky”. Copyright © 2017-10-14, by Elizabeth W. (Lizl) Bennefeld.

Posted in life through my windows, Making Memories, Reflections, Retrospection

Red Leaf, Fallen : Retrospection

Fallen Leaf

“Red Leaf, Fallen”

when one leaves home,
like the last red leaf released
from a winter tree

the letting go, so inevitable,
and their lives go on
to return to old habits
former thoughts

at last forgetting
as totally as doesn’t
matter to anyone else

but the red leaf
stepped on, mouldy,
wondering

why they didn’t …

why one didn’t try
to hang on tighter to
that place of birth

that in-place exile
where the red expanded

and the anchors broke

Copyright © 2016-09-28, by Lizl Bennefeld. All rights reserved.

Written in response to the prompt: Red.

Posted in Haiku, Making Memories, Personal, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Retrospection

#RonovanWrites #Haiku : Future and Hope – Squirreled away

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #228 Future/Hope

Going Home
Squirrel People

squirrels are putting by
autumn’s seeds for future meals
spring’s hopeful promise


Copyright © 2018-11-19, by Lizl Bennefeld.

My father put out suet and seeds for the birds and squirrels that made their home in our back yard, shaded by close to a dozen old cottonwood trees, a newer maple, and a hedge of tall lilac trees with purple flowers at springtime, a hedge along the north and west sides of the double lot. One of my brothers now lives there with his wife, where his children and their children gather.

I wrote a poem related to this photograph in 2000, republished in a blog post titled “Going Home” in 2015. The squirrels would also climb up the screen windows looking in on our breakfast table, impatient for us to finish eating, at which time Dad would feed them the leftover pancakes on the back porch.

 

Posted in Making Memories, Personal, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Reflections, Writing

All in Love | #RonovanWrites #Haiku

#RonovanWrites #Haiku #Weekly #Challenge no 220: He and She.

Remembering our Parents

he and she loved each
other and the whole wide world
and taught us the same

that flowers and people grow, all
in colors of God’s love

Copyright © 2018-09-26, by Lizl Bennefeld.

Remembering my mother and father, who also inspired this poem, written for them in 1987:

“Born of Love”

written for my parents

You taught me how to stand apart,
to understand and be myself.
You gave me the courage to walk alone
when none would join me.
You showed me how to look through words
into the worlds that others live in.

You taught me how to listen
with my heart and dare to make
no judgments
but those born of love.

Copyright © Christmas 1987, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.

After their deaths, 103 days apart at ages 94 and 100, the poem, which  had been framed, came back to me with other keepsakes from their home.

Posted in Making Memories, Uncategorized

Memories of Hawley – My Mother

One of my brother Tim’s posts about the growing-up years. I find myself coming back to it often.

Lizl

-~^~-

I wrote most of my essay about Dad years ago and the words came easily to me. In contrast, I have put off writing about my mother because it has been much more difficult to give shape to my thought…

Source: Memories of Hawley – My Mother

Our mother’s WP site is here: Rhoda’s Web Site: Quilts, Genealogy, and Family.

Posted in Making Memories, Poem, Poetry, Poetry-101-Rehab, Reflections

your smile, remembered | poetry 101 rehab

 

“your smile”

what were those hours and minutes
when measured against decades
of a long life well and fully lived?

a smile, briefly known and always loved,
the joy of songs and sighs and laughter
faded now in the vacuum left behind,
short-lived breeze that warmed,
then cooled again

the absence of your touch…
your lips remembered always
as soft whispers on my neck

Copyright © 2016-08-21, by Lizl Bennefeld.

Andy Townend’s Poetry 101 Rehab
Prompts: Whisper and Smile

Posted in Fiction, Making Memories, Personal, Poem, Writing

My first poem: The Far Voyage

I remember our first poetry-writing assignment; it was in fifth grade, the same year we took the Iowa Basic Skills test in our elementary school. I just uncovered a paper copy in a stack of papers in my filing cabinet. I’d found one early on and put it up on my SFF Net site, but lost track of both digital and paper copies until just last night.

Our town librarian, when she discovered that I liked science fiction novels, made sure that I got a look at every one that came into our village library. The Stars Are Ours had quite an impact on me. There was a sequel by Andre Norton in my future, and I enjoyed that book, too.

Continue reading “My first poem: The Far Voyage”

Posted in Family, Making Memories, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Writing

Best Friends

Rabbit tracks over the front steps
Early Morning Caller

“Best Friends”

Bunny, did you knock upon
the door at five A.M.
hoping that Samantha would
come out to play, again?

The door I did not open,
though the kitchen lights were on.
I let Samantha sleep and dream
fond dreams of you and summer’s fun.

You wake up all the neighborhood
when you two join in play.
She hounds you through the yard
and through the back fence, she will bay.

And then I grab my trusty shawl
and hunt around for shoes
and wonder what the neighbors think
of all the noise…the two of you!

“Best Friends”. Copyright © 2016-01-12,
by Lizl Bennefeld. All rights reserved.

Posted in Haiku, Making Memories, Personal, Poem, Poetry, Uncategorized

Mouse Dreams

Grasses flattened by the new snow, held in place by a wire garden fence
First Snowfall

“Mouse Dreams”

Beneath the covers
of snow and multicolored
leaves, mice dream warm dreams.

Grasses form their beds,
gathered on thick mattresses:
sweet, late-summer seeds.

In winter colors,
now, the world is white and black…
brown in hope of spring.

Copyright © by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.
All rights reserved.

Most field mice don’t make it to their second year of life because of predation, but in protected areas they can live years longer. As in our house, as we were growing up. There were lots of cats in our home, and they came and went as they  pleased. And so Mother Cat would go outdoors of an evening, catch a field mouse or house mouse, and bring it inside (with our mother’s cooperation) and down into the basement, where she would gather her kittens around her and teach them how to attack a mouse. Inevitably, some mice were wiser and more skillful at getting away from kittens than the kittens were in catching mice. 

And so we had a mouse population long after the last of the cats had died and been buried. I was fortunate not to have personal encounters  with them. I did, however, keep pet mice for some years. Mice are nice people. — Lizl

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