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Showing posts from July, 2014

Ordinary PP

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Today's challenge over at Poetry Jam was to write a poem about something ordinary.  This morning my toast sat upon an ordinary paper plate...


Ordinary PP

slice
of tree
cradles cobs,
holds hot dogs,
and piles of fries;
shades squinty eyes,
fans you in a breezeless plight,
but in a breeze transforms to kite.
cut some holes and make a face,
or use it as an artist’s base.
short lived lively paper treasure
9 inch, snack-sized, what’s your measure?
white or color, fancy trimmed,
round or square, wavy rimmed,
how could anyone berate
this lowly, imitation plate
with rights to boast?
a morning toast for
white thin
slice!

©2014, Donna JT Smith

24/7

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It's Poetry Friday!   Yea!  And it is being hosted by Sylvia at Poetry for Children.  Hope you can drop in and help celebrate at the poetry party! 
Thank you Margaret, for featuring my Poetry Swap poem on your blog, Reflections on the Teche, today.  It was a real treat to write it for you!
My poem is at the end... you have to endure photos I've taken.  Fortunately for you, I did not include all that I took!
It was too warm in the house, so tonight before supper, my husband and I drove a few miles down the road to the local State Park and around the island a bit.  We got out at the park and climbed the stone steps to the point that overlooks the ocean.  And I again marveled at the wonderfulness of being on vacation 24/7.  Even when I was working, it seemed that we always lived somewhere that felt like vacation when I got home in the evening.
Minnesota was our horse farm in the country, New Hampshire and Rhode Island homes were in the woods, and now back to real home in Maine,…

Trash or Treasure

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At Poetry Jam this week, the prompt is to write about Trash or Treasure.  You know the phrase "one man's trash is another man's treasure"  -

I had so many ideas, and then when I sat down to write - this one just pushed all the others aside and an old memory came back.


Trash or treasure, what do you see?
I saw a treasure placed there for me;
An old leather Bible discarded in trash
Was it unwanted, who’d be so brash?

“I hope that you’ll treasure this as much as I”
But wishes and lives must have gone quite awry.
A treasure turned trash was now in the heap;
We rescued those words before their last sleep.

A Bible so carelessly tossed out that day
Was carefully, graciously set in our way.
I’ve read both her words and the Word that’s inside
And found Comfort and Peace and a Way to abide.

I hope that the son who tossed Treasure as trash
Has found Peace in his world, new Bible in stash,
And sometimes reflects on that day long ago
When he threw out Mom’s gift before he could …

Expect the Unexpected

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Today I'm Jammin' at Poetry Jam and participating in Poetry Friday at The Opposite of Indifference with Tabatha Yeatts...try out both spots for some great poetry today!  There's something for everyone!
At Poetry Jam, the challenge is to write about something unexpected "Life is full of surprises, good or bad, things we never thought would occur. So this week I'd like you to write a poem about unexpected."
And so I did.  I think it is the thing we hear about, but don't get to experience until we have a child.

You Should Expect the Unexpected

How can you love
someone with your whole heart
and then find that there was
a reserve -
a hidden place in the heart perhaps
that held more
more love
than you knew you possessed
and that your heart
could be so effortlessly opened
by someone so small,
so fragile,
and helpless?
Still when she arrived
in that tiny wrinkly package
she opened your heart,
and love tumbled out
surrounding her
and cradling her
and you wanted
t…

RefrigerARTor

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Poetry Friday is being hosted over at Linda Kulp's Write Time.  Head over there for some great links to poetry today!

First, I'd like to thank Linda Baie over at TeacherDance for the beautiful poem she wrote for me.  It was part of a poetry exchange that Tabatha Yeatts created and organizes, where people are matched up to write a poem for another person.  My first poem was written for Tabatha, and my second for Anastasia Suen.  The third is about to go out...
Anyway, Linda B. wrote and illustrated this wonderful poem:
Transformation

Tiny fingers
tiny toes,
until arriving
no one knows
that a grandchild,
by giving the names
'Gran and Gramps',
start a magical dance,
seeming by chance.

It rearranges you
into

lullaby-singing (no matter the voice)
mud-puddle-jumping (not given a choice)
cookie-baking (a sugar success)
finger-painting (in spite of the mess)
toy-truck-racing (vroom sounds just right)
picture-book making (easy to write)

KIDS,
all over again.

by Linda Baie, 2014

The Lone Ranger Said "HI-___, SILVER, AWAY -"

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So what do you think goes in the blank?  Where do you stand on the Lone Ranger's departing shot on his trusty horse, Silver?

I cannot believe that I believed for my whole life that the Lone Ranger was saying something he wasn't saying! This all started with a picture of a horse's glittery hooves on Laura Purdie Salas' website for her 15 Words or Less poetry challenge.  I commented on another commenter and wrote "Hi-ho, Silver!  Away!" after checking to make sure the "Hi" was really "Hi" and not "Heigh" or "High".

During my spelling research, I found that some people thought The Lone Ranger actually said "Hi-yo, Silver..."  Now that was just ridiculous!  No one said "yo" in the 40's and 50's!  I was positive it was "Hi-ho", as were many others on the Internet.  But now I was intrigued.  How could you tell what had really been said?  Probably not by watching an old show, but maybe...…

No U-Turns

The prompt today on Poetry Jam calls for a poem about an impossible place.


I cannot go back
to live the life
again
I must be satisfied
with the one trip
done
as well as I could
impossible
to make changes
to things
seen
done
said
before today
no U-turns
allowed
no reverse gear
only the mirror
to see where I have been
eyes focus
on the now and future
make the right turns
say the right words
so I will be
satisfied
when I look
back
and I will not care that
there is no
U-turn
and that
reverse
is an impossibility.