Last week, I had shared with you a poem I was considering to submit as one of my three contributions to The Year of the Poet – a monthly anthology of international sustenance published by Inner Child Press, Ltd. (and thanks to the encouragement I received from you, I have sent my “afloat” to its destination). You are invited to my “picnic on a rainbow” today, the second of the three poems I have submitted this month to address the theme of summer. Imagine what you will get to see next Sunday . . .
the new day is breaking
sleepily it seeps through my bedroom window
then stretches on my bed rests on by my side
i brew tea
dried rosehip
(my no-longer-a secret-addiction)
and inhale both aromas
taking my time
my companion is in no hurry either
then i spot a snowflake
it travels in through the screen
begins to tap dance
on the tip of my nose
its pals end up on the tip of my tongue
they feel the same as before
long before i had orphaned the i in me
how i would insist on keeping them
from melting inside my mouth
so i could taste their delicate crystals
my favorite season was not winter back then
long ago though it has won me over
but summer arrived anew
again
it always does
the more the merrier
folklore dictates me to say . . .
alright then i reply
after all progressive holiday parties are hip
and under our noses often enough
why not throw one for the seasons and me
bury your hatchets everyone
we’ll all have a picnic on a rainbow
the new day is also coming along
i’ll bring my collection of snowflakes
one of you will gather the autumn leaves
the other one will be responsible to bring in grass
nothing but freshly-cut
what a lovely blanket they would all make
after we eat drink and dance
we’ll tell funny stories of yore
then we’ll ride on a sleigh of beach
and out of fright the tidal waves will screech
© hülya n. yılmaz, 6.17.2016
![rainbow-wallpaper-1[1]](https://hulyanyilmaz.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/rainbow-wallpaper-11.jpg?w=500)
Filed under Reflections
atop the gentle ripples
of today’s calm Black Sea
on the edge of that picturesque town
of my insatiable yearning
my face kisses the burnt-orange sun
a push-over wave pats me on my shoulders
(our new neighbor must be on the go
with his sailboat again)
i shoo away my childhood fear of jelly fish
in their territory am i now after all
the largest ones i ever saw
live right here i believe
always bloating over
the small skinny hands of the same little boys
(or so i still trick myself to think)
beach-combing free-spirits
tossing those pulsating bells back and forth
their version of volleyball
they are overly active now
it looks like the entire medusa population
gathered around the lads
i’m safe i’m safe yes i am . . .
no
oh no
it can’t be . . .
don’t you whirl around my feet
what are you doing under my lilo
eek
double eek
triple eek
. . .
moooom!
mooooooooom!
© hülya n. yılmaz, 6.18.2016
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
While my decision is not yet firm, I may submit this poem as one of my three contributions to The Year of the Poet, a monthly anthology of international dynamics, published by Inner Child Press, Ltd.
![the-girl-at-jellyfish-lake-by13277[1]](https://hulyanyilmaz.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/the-girl-at-jellyfish-lake-by132771.jpg?w=500)
Filed under Reflections
gene çocuklar aciz
gene çocuklar yetişkin acılar içinde
oysa ki çocuklar hep gülmeli
gülebilmeli
onları biz istemedik mi . . .
![nature--sad-tree-munir-alawi[1]](https://hulyanyilmaz.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/nature-sad-tree-munir-alawi1.jpg?w=500)
children are helpless again
children in adult-size suffering again
children however must smile always
must be able to smile
aren’t we after all who wanted them . . .
Filed under Impulses
With a smiling heart, I greet you right by the entry door to my home, see you in, guide you to my only comfortable eating corner where several distinctly Turkish baked goods await us. Once you are seated, I steep tea or make coffee – through the ritualistic steps they are prepared in Turkey, and just must accompany any pleasure-food served to welcome guests into the hearth of lengthy delightful conversations . . .
You, dear readers and dear followers, are my special guests to this virtual get-together today, as I attempt to express my long overdue thanks to you for your loyal interest in my writings. The fact that you let me know of your presence here by opting for a “Like” or by leaving a comment is a gift from you that I don’t take for granted. And, this time around, I would like to draw in the help of a maxim by William Arthur Ward in order to better articulate my appreciation of you for your visits to my blog site:
May the rest of your Sunday and your new week bring you only the pleasant kinds of life experiences. ~
Filed under Reflections
. . . overlooked the rating
my fatal mistake
too old indeed for this cliché
alas
mental age
a mere PG-13 as yet
apologies galore
self-acceptance
an unknown tongue
a pre-natal giver
compensation for the self
a baneful embryo
beyond the reach of life and death
on the edge of the salty drops for evermore
. . .
no more!
no longer willing to carry
emotional baggage for two
that of the old and the new
rendezvoused thus
the first with its end
. . .
sleeping naked tonight
stripped off of the fabric of my favorite clinging
or the so-called events of the past
the big wall clock across my bed
lightened now as it is disassembled
my cleansed head resting on the big hand
the small hand covering me ever so tenderly
come to me tonight oh sweet embrace
you desperately awaited rate of G
. . .
ah!
© hülya n. yılmaz, 4.21.2016
~ ~ ~
This poem came to me as an inspiration after a wonder-filled opportunity I had a while back to view – among many others – one stunning painting by the remarkable artist of international acclaim, Helene Ruiz. My heartfelt thanks to you, dear Helene. You will know to which one of your memorable painted art pieces I am referring.
Filed under Reflections
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