By Sanku
She sketches the world around her
with the clarity of dawn's dew
birds,beetles and weeds that wither
find themselves drawn in golden hue.
Daffodils basking in warbler's notes
April roses and autumn leaves
puddles just right for paper boats
icicles leaning from the eaves.
She spies falling stars through the trees
dreams of spinning sunshine to shawls
snowflakes drifting down with breeze
dandelion in the wilderness sprawls.
Brooke, you still have to unravel
more mysteries of this universe
take us with you as you travel
to gather pearls for your every verse.
| Author Notes | My prayers for her speedy recovery .I am sure thoughts of Sawyer would help her recover fast.The images in the poem are all from Brooke's poems. I remember in one of her poem she had written that if she could she would spin sunshine to make shawls to cover the trees in the winter! I have read every poem she has posted ever since I joined here.I don't come here regularly ,so i would go to her profile and check if I had missed any thing.Since this is for her, I have done my best to write more or less even lines and tried to rhyme.I hope to write a free verse to express what I feel.Thank you very muchMiss sunshine for this lovely photo. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image |
By Sanku
| Author Notes |
For Brooke. May the curative power of dandelions, as well as our collective prayer, bring the healing...
Photo courtesy of Google images. |
By Sanku
Her poems, like a bird's sweet song,
give saddened hearts a lift.
We pray she won't be gone too long.
Her poems, like a bird's sweet song
are missing, and it just seems wrong
that Brooke can't share her special gift.
Her poems, like a bird's sweet song,
give saddened hearts a lift.
| Author Notes |
Missing you, Brooke, and wishing you well.
I miss your poetry, your gracious reviews and the darling pictures of Sawyer. You are in my prayers. Nancy |
By Sanku
I hear that our very own, Brooke
is not feeling all that swell
I hope it's not too severe
or complicated
I'm praying that soon she gets well
She's a lover of the yellow
infamous, invading weed
The dandy-lion, you guessed it
and this I know
Can grow six feet tall from one seed
She can reach out to children
with colorful chosen words
Creating wonderful pictures
of her wisdom
Through all animals and birds
I know there are fanstorians
and multitudes, becoming a fan
That hold our Brooke, endearingly
in their hearts
All throughout this glorious land
Get well, our BROOKE
| Author Notes |
This poem is in response to Joy Grahams poem for Brooke, who is in the hospital
dandy-lion is spelt this way for Brooke's benefit because I don't feel the same way as Brooke does about them. I have gardened for others and pulled out thousands upon thousands of dandelions. I tell her they are okay, as well as buttercups and morning glory, if they are all together and half way up a mountain in some meadow. |
By Sanku
| Author Note: | For Brooke and family |
I like to send you wee thoughts
of fairies, dandelions, and
everything you like.
I hope Miranda comes soon,
maybe Sawyer too.
You wrote so many poems
about the wee fellow,
some maybe yellow,
and he is not blue.
In these dark days,
like in a locked cupboard,
I so wish you to get well
soon, as soon as possible,
Try and stay positive
as that tends to help.
We will all welcome you back.
Most of us pray every night
Mainly for you at the moment.
| Author Notes | Many thank s to Angelheart for the beautiful artwork. |
By Sanku
The Heart-felt Wish
When my body's sick,
and not feeling well,
it helps to hear,
my friends are near.
With reassurance,
thoughts, and prayers,
I know well,
how much they care!
So today, this poem arrives,
Fulfilling its mission, humble and sublime.
With a joyful greeting and a heart-felt wish,
My body will heal, in plenty of time!
My earnest hope, is that very soon,
My body will be, as good as new,
With God's healing, my strength improved,
my zest returns, my body's health too!!
| Author Notes | I am on the card ministry at church to uplift those who are ill or need encouragement! |
By Sanku
Just yesterday, the losses of old age
seemed merciful, with gradual decline—
to be expected, dignified, by sage
and leisured contemplation. Time’s design
looked logical, compassionate, benign
with boundless heaven here on earth, and there ...
a future comfortably warm; divine
with poetry of dandelions, prayer
to celebrate each day of love. But then
by random whim - a quirk - caprice of fate,
a life of rainbows turns to shade. And when
I hear of this, I weep; for knowing date
and time of shadow's end are ruled by chance,
I'll fiercely love the sunlight ... and just dance …
| Author Notes |
Thank you Brooke, for inspiring us all to appreciate life by the moment.
Your presence here means so much to us. Know that you are loved. Note: 'dandelions' and 'comfortably' are both read with all 4 syllables pronounced. |
By Sanku
To our dear Muse, for Muse you be,
sweet sister of Calliope.
You nourish us with words as dew
that gleam with pearlescent hue.
These dewdrops flow upon the page
in verses gracious, gentle, sage.
You guide us with a knowing hand
and give us tools to understand:
Just like a dandelion seed,
our inspiration, once it's freed,
will float and fly upon the air.
It's ours to form and then to share.
You pull us close like family,
and set a standard all can see.
With loving kindness you bestow
the power to learn and then to grow.
We call you poet, mentor, friend.
And now good vibes and prayers we send
to our dear Muse, for Muse you be,
sweet sister of Calliope.
~
| Author Notes |
Words are so inadequate to express how much your poetry and instruction mean to me, Brooke. Thank you for the encouragement and knowledge you so graciously share.
Muse--the goddess or power that inspires a poet, artist, or thinker. (I believe the definition aptly applies to Brooke) Calliope--the ninth and chief Muse in ancient Greek mythology. She presides over eloquence and epic poetry. The name means "beautiful-voiced." Thank you to cleo85 for the use of the artwork "Blue Dreams" |
By Sanku
Ten Fanstory poets
rhyming mighty fine
one hashed a metaphor
then there were nine.
Nine FS poets
sounding really great
one claimed he had a muse
then there were eight
Eight hopeful bards
here in poet's heaven
one reversed syntax
then there were seven
Seven poets writing
in meter that clicks
one had to insert "did"
then there were six.
Six eager poets
starting to jive
one got really trite
then there were five.
Five poets working
with iambic roar
one called his dad a brute
then there were four
Four poets writing
with religious glee
one was filled with lust
then there were three
Three poets giving it
the best that they could do
one harped on his diseases
then there were two
Two determined poets
under the gun
one wrote about a sunset
then there was one.
One haggard poet
his race nearly run
started writing free verse
then there were none.
| Author Notes |
Oh, chill. Just playing.
Sorta thinking about Brooke and her counting poems... |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image. A triolet for Brooke to encourage her to be strong. |
By Sanku
| Author Note: | For a dear and cherished friend. |
Ten tiny dandelion seeds
blown by gusts of wind,
one flew off amongst the weeds —
began to grow again.
Nine fluffy tufts of white
were scattered, to and fro.
One sought out life giving light
where it could thrive and grow.
Eight puffy wisps so pale
wafting on the breeze,
one touched down in shaded dale
'neath whispering willow trees.
Seven now were still afloat,
yet one soon fell to earth.
A poet saw, wrote a note
of beauty and its worth.
Six seeds sailed silently
along a country road,
one tiny single seed
bathed a countryside in gold.
Five now gently held aloft
by gentle summer wind,
one much lighter, very soft —
soon spiraled down again.
Four sailed softly in the air
as light as driven snow,
the fourth one spied a sunny lair
where it was meant to go.
Three tiny dandelion seeds
were all that now remained
one fell into marshy reeds,
where it is still detained.
Two tufted spores now tossed
upon a lavish lawn,
one still wished to travel more,
the other stayed to spawn.
One last seed, a lighter fellow
I'm sending to our friend,
aglow in vivid sunshine yellow,
to bring Brooke home again.
| Author Notes |
**A nod to our own I am Cat for her most gracious assistance with the last line...** Thanks, Cat!
Brooke's absence has been widely felt from nearly everyone in this wonderful community of like-minded people. All share a deep love and admiration for her. Not just as FanStory's own Poet Laureate, but as a dear and cherished friend. I send my prayers and hopes to Brooke for a speedy recovery, and hope she will return to us again very soon. Brooke...this one's just for you. ~Dean |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image. Thank you Brooke for writing so many great counting poems. Please read this for fun. It is not metered. Please do not be put off by the length. It is a story counting poem. It requires the length to tell the story of the ten tiny fleas. [the black dots here & there are fleas] |
By Sanku
ten crayons stacked inside a box
placed in my mother's shopping cart.
one helping scratch my chicken pox--
then quarantined just to be smart.
nine crayons dance around a page
spread color on brother's left hand.
one trying hard to jump onstage
it missed the mark--where will it land?
eight crayons playing hide and seek
one hiding in the living room,
then scared stiff--unable to speak.
now seven swept up by the broom.
seven crayons seek a new home
wondering where they all will go.
one playing with a garden gnome.
six crayons run to see a show.
six crayons ride bikes to the park
they played on the merry-go-round.
one was left alone in the dark
waiting, it was not to be found.
five crayons drenched by the cold rain,
quickly they find a place to hide.
one thought it was just too much pain.
now four make a mad dash inside.
four crayons rush the open door,
they tumble inside onto the mat.
one is stuck on the sticky floor.
the others see a sleeping cat.
three crayons will color it bright.
zigzags and stripes make it look fine
while coloring it left to right.
one helping colored past the line.
two crayons step up to a well,
desiring friends to all live free.
making a wish, one slipped and fell.
one color left for all to see.
while its dreaming under the sun
of colors all living in peace.
it was melting and had to run--
hoping all hatred would soon cease.
the ten crayons' story is done.
their lives were changed in many ways.
they learned about more than just one
to exist with Earth's numbered days.
| Author Notes | Google advanced image. PEACE to ALL |
By Sanku
See you amongst the trees
One stained glass wing
Miranda tends your care
Her love ever there.
My thoughts are for you
My love takes wings
Faery wings to hold you
Bring you home well.
Faery Mother loves us all
Know that we are caring
We surround you now
Come home - fly free.
| Author Notes | Friend, teacher, lover of words. Fair and loving in your ways. Come home to us, we wait for your recovery. |
By Sanku
Remember when
I’d print your poems and read them to my aunt?
You chuckled when I told you my aunt said,
“No wonder Brooke’s so intelligent –
She’s a teacher.” My aunt was a teacher too.
Remember when
You wrote a poem “Forever Young” and
I was so inspired by your four leaf clovers
I bought clover seed and sowed handfulls
in my garden? The lawns fill with purple clover.
Remember when
You reviewed my post for two cents and spent
a lot of time showing me I was out of commas?
I’m sorry to say that has not improved. I think
it’s a permanent condition. If commas were clover
seed that might've turned out better.
I fondly recall your black and white series, your
poems about flowers, rainbows, and animals the
lines filled with layer upon layer of so much more
than what the surface revealed.
Then your newest family member arrived
and your muse kicked in overtime.
We loved every minute of it.
From you, I learned integrity, generosity, reciprocal
reviewing, don’t jump on the bandwagoning,
and a whole bunch more.
In the process I did a little copyca … erm
imitating you. Remember imitation is the sincerest
form of flattery. I dug this poem out of my
X-files.
You might remember your poem that inspired
my fun little imitation.
Bumblebee - Written 01/04/2012
A bumblebee flew by
Attracted by a bluebell
She bolted from the sky
And barely missed the hotel
She bolted from the sky
To fill her purse with honey
The flower caught her eye
Out by the plastic bunny
The flower caught her eye
It brought her to my garden
Sweet liqueurs that she tried
Were sipped without my pardon
A bumblebee flew by
She flit from bell to flower
She bolted from the sky
Back home for happy hour
Haaaaaaaa. That’s quite a laugh reading this.
I’d like to end with another little bit of imitation:
The cupcakes started out as twelve
I ate ten then there were two
And I ate them too!
I didn’t want them to be lonely like we’ll be
If you don’t hurry back.
Thinking oh so fondly about you, dear Brooke.
Get well and get back.
| Author Notes | Brooke's daughter, Miranda, has reported in the forums that Brooke has a very aggressive form of MS. Without wanting to overstep my bounds, maybe check the forums for the full posting. If you have a poem or well wishes for Brooke and her family please post a chapter in the book, so they can read them all in one place. |
By Sanku
A Dandelion
A dandelion does not ask for much
It does not need a garden
Nor does it ask for mulch
It does not ask for soil and such
Just...
A tiny bit of rain,
a couple rays of sun
And one small drop of dew
That glistens like a pearl
In spring it asks for wind
to spread its joyful seeds
when all is said and done
that's really all it needs
And if there is no wind
a smiling child will do
to blow the seeds upon their way
With zip and zest and laughter
and a single drop of love...
that's really all it needs
A poem: with a bit of rhyme, a bit of alliteration,
and a bit of enjambment, for a special Brooke.
You told me once your favorite flower is the dandelion :)
By Sanku
I'd like to say a word or two
on how much I've been missing you.
I was dismayed to see a space
that you had left without a trace.
I'd grown so used to your sweet verse
your absence was for me a curse.
It's hard to make it through a day
without the kindness you display.
Your feedback was a boon to me
and always taken happily.
I miss the strong and guiding hand
that keeps my verse from being bland.
I pray that you will soon be well
and back at top from which you fell.
I don't think I will sleep night
unless you're number one on site.
A thousand blessings I do send
for Brooke to be quite well again.
| Author Notes | cmyers sends her lovely artwork to brighten your day Brooke! |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image |
By Sanku
For Brooke
How do you say how much
A person means to you
When words aren't nearly enough.
You look into your heart and
Try to do the best you can.
We don't really know each other
In the traditional sense, you
Might say, but relate
By thoughts reflected.
In poetry we write to
Share with those who choose
To care about ideas
So lovingly composed,
Random topics we
Write with heart and soul.
I never really did that
For all these years, but
Learned on Fan Story
That I could write
Both poetry and prose.
From past experience
I knew requisites of review
But, from you, Adew,
I learned more than I knew.
You always returned a
A critique of your own
Were specific about the
Things that you liked
Even enjambment, a
Term I didn't understand
But learned to figure out.
Now I will close, but not for long
My wish for you is to get
Strong, be back on Fan Story
Where your heart belongs.
* You may remember through some messages back and forth, we learned we had some things in common, like having seen shows at the old Forge Music Fair. I feel I came to know you in such a short time, but we will leave what we know in the form of rhyme. Thinking of you and your family. respa
*I know you like nature, so the picture I chose is from Avalanche Gorge, Glacier National Park, Montana.This is a description I thought you would like: With a luscious green canopy of moss and brilliant red rocks, some days when the light is right, you can view rays of sunlight as they reach down into the gorge where the creek pours over small punch bowl style waterfalls.
By Sanku
The sun has slipped
behind a cloud.
Flowers fade,
petals bowed.
Tiny critters
love the fame,
they need you
to give them names.
Bugs become friends,
what a surprise!
You show us the world,
through a child's eyes.
Best wishes and love
mixed in a swirl,
hope you feel better,
sweet adewpearl.
| Author Notes | wishing you well Brooke. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes |
You love your dandelions, don't you, dear Brooke? They love you too! In fact, hundreds of them gathered together to form a huge bouquet, and they asked me to bring them to your hospital room, to get you well.
We miss you so much here, dearest friend! Please come back to us soon... |
By Sanku
Dear lady bug where is it that you fly?
Neath fragrant blooms I search for your sweet face.
Oh lady bug your absence makes me cry
for I am quite bereft without your grace.
What gift to you can I with love impart
to compensate for all the joy you bring?
I can but give the secrets of my heart
mere words in verse which make this lone heart sing.
Yet even though I miss your tender touch
and crave the kind assurance of your praise;
it’s not my loss that matters half as much
as all the voices now as one we raise.
If healing comes through wishes which persist
You could not hope for more support than this.
| Author Notes | Many thanks to Amy Jean for the lovely artwork. |
By Sanku
Is it possible to give money to a millionaire?
Is it possible to give icicles to a polar bear?
Is it possible to give scratch to a flea?
Is it possible to give honey to a bee?
How do you write poetry for Brooke?
She already wrote a fat book!
Well, this is my little letter,
Wishing she'll hurry and get better.
God bless Adewpearl.
Love from
Curly Girl.
| Author Notes | The photo was taken, one morning, close to where I live in Southland, New Zealand. |
By Sanku
Dearest Brooke,
You know all too well that I am not a poet. You tried your best to teach me and even signed me up for one of your classes but, alas, I flunked the course. You insisted I passed, but we both know I failed miserably.
I miss your humorous comments on my reviews on your poems. You got me to laugh when I was feeling down. You did not mind me teasing you about how confusing I found the all too many rules to the all too many poetic styles. While I could never get two words to rhyme, you continued to encourage me to try. How you found time to respond to all your reviews amazes me. Knowing that you also took time to review so many prose submissions with detailed suggestions and repeatedly reminding me of the rule, 'comma for direct address' became a personal joke between us.
I know you are a very private person and I respect that. However, I want to thank you for introducing me to Sawyer with your fun and delightful poems and Miranda's stunning photos. You allowed all of us into that part of your life and I can say with complete honesty, that I love them both.
We both love Dandelions and refuse to call them weeds. I loved every poem you wrote about them. As you know, they reminded me of my childhood watching my mother in the front yard on her hands and knees digging them up only for me to follow behind her and replant each one. Eventually she gave up and let them fill the yard. She even joined me when I would spend hours every day blowing the seeds to insure next year's crop of sunshine would bloom.
I know Miranda loves fairies and Sawyer is the joy of your life. You are and always will be the joy of mine. As you know, I am not particularly religious but please know that I have lit a candle for you every day and say a prayer of thanks every morning for the joy you have brought me with your beautiful poems, generous heart, and continued encouragement.
I will accept whatever God has planned for you and please know the tears I am shedding are both from sadness and joy for having known you as a friend and mentor. I pray you come back to us, but if you do not, know you are loved and will never be forgotten. You are in my heart and as the Dandelion reminds me of my sister Diane; it represents my love for you.
Bless you and your family my dear friend. I know you will not want us to be sad, but sadness has its place and is sometimes the best expression of love we have to give when our heart is broken. And, my heart IS broken.
Love forever and always,
Valerie
| Author Notes | I am not a poet so I decided to just write a letter to my dear friend Brooke. However, I actually won a few free verse contests and Brooke was so proud of me. |
By Sanku
"Hey, Mango, why the long snout?" Bert asked walking up the porch steps.
Mango was a five-year-old, low-spirited beagle at the moment.
"Too much marshmallow fluff with canned corned beef hash for breakfast?" said Bert.
Bert is an eleven-year-old St. Bernard and best friends with Mango.
"No, it's not that. Though I could go for a bowl of it. I found out one of my FanStory friends isn't feeling well. Even worse, Bert, she's in the hospital." Mango hung her head in shame. "I had no clue. It's like I was an ostrich with my head buried in the sand."
"Mango, don't beat yourself up over this. You've never neglected a friend of yours when they needed you. Keep her in your prayers." Bert saw the concerned look on her face as she continued.
"Her name is Brooke. She's a poetic genius, Bert. I've read you some of her work. And she has the cutest little grandson. I could just pinch his cheeks. But I can't. I have paws."
"She sounds like a peach," said Bert. "A real sweetheart."
"She was a teacher in real life. But I guess FanStory has better benefits so she left that for here." Mango looked up into the blue skies. "I hope she gets better, Bert. I miss her. And she has a lot more to teach me. Not only about writing, but about life, caring and giving."
"You know what, Mango my friend? With friends like you and the huge amount of love in your little heart, I'm sure that will go a long way in giving her strength."
"Bert, you know I don't write poetry. It comes out sounding corny. But I wrote a poem about one of her favorite things. Want to hear it?"
"You betcha I do," said Bert sitting down.
"Other then Sawyer, she loves dandelions. Here goes..."
"There was a fluffy dandelion
With pretty, puffy white hair,
It sat among a million others
Without much room to spare.
One day the rain clouds showed
And the wind just started to blow,
Suddenly the dandelions puffy white hair
Made the ground look like snow."
"Mango, that's wonderful," said Bert. "I believe your friend Brooke will love it."
"Thanks, Bert. Before I log into FanStory to post this, can we put our paws together and say a prayer?"
"Sure."
Mango puts her little paw into Bert's huge one. They bow their heads and Mango begins.
"Dear God, my friend, Brooke, is sick. She'll be proud, Lord, because I used a comma for direct address. Comfort her and ease her suffering. Bless her with Your loving care and be with her in her recovery from illness. Amen."
"Mango, that was beautiful."
| Author Notes | I do not write poetry. But I don't think Brooke will mind hearing from Mango and Bert. |
By Sanku
Beautiful rainbows in words sublime
Animal countdown ten through one
Lady birds and buzzy bees
And a much loved grandson
We feel we all know.
We miss your rhymes
And send love
To you,
Brooke.
One
Of us.
A fellow
Fanstorian
Having a struggle.
We are thinking of you
Candles are glowing for you
Dandelion seeds are waiting
Another appearance in your rhymes.
| Author Notes |
I can't rhyme like you Brooke, so I didn't try, but I'm wishing you well and thinking of you.
Many thanks to Wendy G for the lovely artwork. |
By Sanku
By Sanku
She maybe yellow
and so small
she shines her
magic dust
Poof! Arise
oh beams of
earth's sunshine!
The dandelion fairy
is here to bring
treasures of the heart
Popping up again
covering a wide
human domain
Her yellowness
expands and greets
the happy blue sky
She flies away
to where her
magic is needed
she is the dandelion
fairy of good wishes
and light dreams
gifts of sunshine
nature's gold
| Author Notes | Hope you are feeling better, Brooke. |
By Sanku
Along the fields to run with care
The poet lies now in her bed
Dreams of the days of yesteryear
When the dandelions were so fair
The running over the fields with love
While the yellow flowers are in bloom
Soon to turn to snowy white
Ready to seed the wind in flight
There the barn calls for the chores
The house smells with new pie in window
Here the dreams of long ago
Are part of the dream the poet knows
Get well Brooke we pray each day
Longing to read your poems of play
With the fairies in the fields
dancing among the daffodils
Best wishes and God's grace,
Danpald
By Sanku
she graces us with her words
such beauty all around,
writes fondly of dandelions . . .
. . .to me just a weed
but she turns ugly into fabulous
and a bad day into a loving smile;
she's our Statue of Liberty
always welcomes us into her harbor;
Brooke shares her family,
beloved daughter and grandson
with pictures to delight
even our darkest days;
God be with you through your trials
and we will pray for your safe return
in the harbor
| Author Notes | God bless you and keep you, God make his light to shine upon you, heal you and return you to your family. Amen |
By Sanku
If only there were fairy dust
to sprinkle and to make you well,
I'd call on fairies everywhere
to shower you with a healing spell.
The sparkles from their dust would cling
and add some brightness to your day.
They'd dance for you and each would sing
of how you're missed while you're away.
They'd do their best to make you smile.
With pastel wings, they'd flit about,
land on your nose, your cheeks, your hands.
To you, they would be most devout.
You see, my friend, they know of you
and how you've honored them at times
with whimsy in your poetry,
with color, and with lovely rhymes.
| Author Notes | When I think of Brooke and her wonderful poetry, I think of dandelions, Sawyer, and fairies, three of her favorite topics about which to write. Here's hoping she will write again. This one's for you, Brooke. |
By Sanku
A heartfelt thought for our friend Brooke
To change the path that her health took.
Our site all prays for her recovery.
We miss her words and personality.
And like a dandelion's fluffy head,
Whose seeds disburse on winds blown overhead,
We fervently hope our prayers are enough
To make her ills disappear in a puff.
But if the wind is not enough to free
Those ills that hang so strong and stubbornly,
They surely cannot still withstand the depth
Of grandson's smile, a puff of Sawyer's breath.
GET WELL Brooke!
| Author Notes |
We all love and miss you, and pray for your complete recovery.
Author's photograph. |
By Sanku
Warm well wishes to you
my dear Brooke --
my teacher, mentor
and number one reviewer.
Through your eyes
I've watched
sweet Sawyer grow,
seen his smiles,
heard of his antics too.
I've felt the warmth
in your heart
for all of your family
so dear.
Nary a bad thing
slipped from your pen-lips
as you filled our hearts
with your ever
sweet-penned verse.
I've picked a bouquet
special for you,
your favorite it seems,
golden-yellow orbs
fresh from my lawn --
here's a handful
for you.
In my thoughts
and prayers,
please get well soon.
Teresa
| Author Notes | Not very poetic but from the heart. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes |
I loved Brooke's counting poems - always lots of fun. On several occasions I told her I would like to try one and she suggested pirates as a suitable theme.
I didn't know this would be so hard - not easy finding fresh and original ways to bump off nine pirates and keep it appropriate for young kids. Here it is at last, Brooke. PS There can't really be 10,000 poems in her book, can there? |
By Sanku
dandelion green
yellow unseen
so damn beautiful
ugly duckling turns swan
sporadic as fairness
has feathered rare
full view head-on collides
careful as every man's crashing
concedes human frailty
invisible shields faith
spirit placed invincible...
smashed mirrored glass
unless flowers do manage life from weed
do you believe...
in Peter Pan's integrity against a mountain of fantasy
Cinderella's sudden slipper inheritance
Sleeping Beauty's trust in a Prince's kiss
resurrected breath...
Christ blessed Jesus guest
welcomed home supping happiness hereafter
then your mind keep you...
dandelion green
yellow never seen
so damn beautiful
| Author Notes | To....No. One.....Brooke.....-smile- |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | I hope this makes you smile Brooke. Keep positive and hurry home to us here in FanStory, you are sorely missed! |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | So many wonderful memories. Hope and pray she will be home soon. FanStory. Wouldn't let me capitalize Brooke. sigh |
By Sanku
| Author Notes |
A Triolet is one of Brooke's favorite forms. The spun gold of her poetry exuded and celebrated life. We miss you, dear friend. I wish each of our poems for you turns into a prayer for your speediest recovery. Come back to us soon to delight us with your poetry and your uplifting presence.
A Triolet is a poem of only eight lines with a rhyme scheme abaaabab. The fourth and seventh lines are the same exact line as the first. The eighth line is the same exact line as the second. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Brooke, you were my first reviewer on FanStory and I'll never forget how you made me feel-so positive and empowering were your words. No longer was I afraid to put my writing out there. And I thank you for your continued support, always diligent in reviewing, no matter how many gillion you were doing. Also, thanks for your post, that always brightened my day and took me back to a childhood memory and made me reminisce of simpler times. Take care, my friend! 8-) |
By Sanku
Inception to when the moon sets sky-high,
Sanctuary to where the mind's-eye can fly.
Wisdom and power of the great white orb,
The heavenly connection to fully absorb.
Dancing stars illuminating high and low,
Brooklet's beauty in measured-movements glow.
Reflective-sparkling magic water in glide,
Follows the search to an emotional king tide.
Cross rocks 'n' snags and snaking path...
And storm 'n' squall and aftermath.
Determination that marry into streams,
Ebbing surges join within wishbone dreams.
A stream turns to river; a river to the sea,
Yet a single drop of water can sprout and grow a tree.
For the mission of our brooklet in her calm and measured course,
Is to feed--protect and nurture every droplet from its source.
An inspirational life-force in shaping true identity,
A much loved and needed presence of a precious-giving entity.
Oceans vast, rivers wide... creations of thought in mindful stream,
Inceptions of a magic scene, the sweetest birth... 'a brooklet's dream'.
| Author Notes |
I join in the journey and add my drop of blood, to the ocean of family who send Brooke healing love.
Be well soon Queen Bee, the workers are running low on the magic of your sweetened honey... smile))))))))). A truly warming thank you Lannyroff, for the use of your wonderful art, 'The Moon and the Milkyway'. |
By Sanku
Brooke
Beyond the confines of the keys
Real life happens for you and me
On this earth, we have never met
Only heard whispers of a much-loved poet
Keep moving forward my yet to meet friend
Earnest well wishes from your new fan
| Author Notes | I haven't gotten a chance to meet you but so many fanstorians love you, Brooke. You must get well soon so we can make that happen :) |
By Sanku
~~oOo~~
A field of dandelions, I will bring
To fill a range of vases just for you
And as their faces radiate with spring
You'll look and smile to see the sun shine through.
A field of four leaf clover, I will bring
To give you one each day to wish upon
I'll send you blackbirds so you'll hear them sing
Their warbling song that says winter has gone
A rainbow I will pluck out from the sky
And with it I will bring the pot of gold
Their colours will delight, you'll not deny
For everyone to have and to behold
With all these things that I have said I'll do
I'll add a hug and so much love for you
~~oOo~~
| Author Notes | I would send a field of everything you love, Brooke. But most of all, I wish you back to health. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image. This is for Brooke. Please do not be put off by the length. It is required to tell the story of the rocks in counting form. [this is a fun counting poem not to be compared to Brooke's life]. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image. This is a fun poem for Brooke. It is not a commentary on her life. The length is required (many of Brooke's counting poems were lengthy). Please do not review on meter. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | This is a happy counting poem for Brooke. It is not metered. Google advanced image. Thank you sweetwoodjax for the inspiration for this poem. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Thanks to lynnkah for the artwork. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image |
By Sanku
By Sanku
| Author Notes | This in NO way is to be taken as a commentary on/about/for/to Brooke. It is me simply using a format she REALLY liked to write poetry. DO NOT think I am wishing bad things for her. I want her to see that I have embraced a form she liked and wished to share the results. Google image. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes | Google advanced image. Does anyone remember switchboards like those that handled calls in WW2 ? I have seen pictures and those on tv. This is a counting poem dedicated to Brooke. It is not metered. |
By Sanku
| Author Notes |
The reason I capitalized "Balding" was in reference to Brooke's last name, Baldwin. Other references to her life and poetry are perhaps more obvious and need no explanation. Thank you for reading.
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