I Have Been Blessed

Well, 30 days, 30 poems...here is the last for April's poetry month. (I think I had 29, but on two days I did more than one...so I think it still counts!)  This has been fun and I've really appreciated the encouragement from my new friends here on the Internets!

What will it be next month?  Hmmm.  I think I "may" have an idea.

I Have Been Blessed

Who could know what would be my walk
Of everything life had in store?
My joy spills over when I take stock,
How could my life hold any more ?

I watched my children learn and grow
We loved them and they left our nest
We gave them their tickets to go
With strong wings they passed the test.

As my own parents departed
I witnessed the joy in their soul
I could not remain downhearted
For their names were found on the roll.

The sweet perfume of a beach rose,
Or the salty scent of the sea,
The way that the nighttime moon glows,
I have found are blessings to me.

The eagles that soar above all
A foggy morn's kiss on my cheek
The sound of a mourning dove's call
These blessings I daily will seek.

As sun's rays reach out from the sky
At the end of another day
I know it won't be hard to try
To cast all my burdens away.

How could I say I've not been blessed
When wonders around me abound?
How could I say I've been given less
When all that I need I have found?

Unos for Birdware Aisle 3

Wow!
One more day of mandatory poetry for me.
I wonder how living life unrhymed will be.
We'll see...

This poem has no type
So there is no hype
I can make up a name
I suppose.

Let's call it a Smidget
Or a Two Rhyme Widget
But if that sounds too tame
I dunnose.

We could get refined
And call it some kind
Of name that isn't so lame-
An UnProse?

Oh, I really don't know
I guess we'll just go
With some type of a game -
Like Unos...


Birdware Aisle 3

Tiring day, still much to do;
It would be so nice
As I write this slice
To be home.

But instead I am sitting
In a hardware store
With my foot that's sore
Propped up.

We'll buy seeds and a feeder
So the birds eat free
As it hangs from a tree
Where I'll watch.

Let's get this show on the road
Install that feeder
Close to the cedar
Work will wait.

A Rondel for a Rough Day

Rondel

A French form consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains and a quintet, rhyming as follows:
ABba abAB abbaA. The capital letters are the refrains, or repeats.  

I'm so saddened when I realize

I cannot be what he needs;

His furious body pleads

"See past my angry eyes!"

His rage is his disguise,

My torn heart simply bleeds;

I'm so saddened when I realize

I cannot be what he needs.

His vengeful way belies

A gentler soul amid the weeds;

A soul that on love feeds

Yet with wrath as his guise;

I'm so saddened when I realize.

Some days are just difficult all around.

Writing Rictameter

Rictameter

Rictameter is a scheme similar to Cinquain. 

Starting your first line with a two syllable word, you then  consecutively

increase the number of syllables per line by two. i.e. 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 

Then down again,  8, 6, 4, 2 

Making the final line the same two syllable word you began with.   

Writing

As warm as hugs
As deep as a valley

As haunting as a lake loon’s cry

Opening eyes and freeing minds to dream

To make a nest for memories

To fill the heart with joy

To feed souls with

Writing

A Few Haiku for You

We read a "Time for Kids" news about Earth Day and tree planting.  So we planted acorns gathered from my front yard (before my husband aerates the lawn and we lose them) so we could have oak trees to plant at home later. The acorns were in all stages of cracking open and starting to root.  It was kind of an Earth Day thing.  We always miss Earth Day at school as we are off for spring break.

We later read another "Time for Kids" that had animal poems by Jane Yolen.  One prompt in it was a picture of a flamingo just taking from the water, its long legs skimming the pool.

We talked about what a Haiku was and we jotted down some words the picture of the flamingo and the acorns we examined made us think of.  We wrote, counted syllables, edited, and finally glowed as we became content with our class Haiku for the flamingo and the acorn.

The third Haiku is mine.

www.beautifulfreepictures.com

The Flamingo

Running on water
Splashing but trying to fly
Like a pink airplane.

Acorn

The small acorn falls,
Cracks open, grows a white root
In the soft, wet ground.

Caring

 
Hands pat soil gently
Nestling acorns in warmth
Caring for new life

Non-Prose Promise

I am so tired,
I need to sleep,
But my April promise
I must needs keep.

So here I lie,
Abed with pen,
And I'll write words
That rhyme again

Actually,
A pen it's not,
It's my MacBook
On which I jot.

So anyway,
There you have it,
Sustenance for
My new habit!

And now at last
My eyes may close
And make an end
To this non-prose.

Laturne for Easter

Lanturne

The Lanturne is a five-line verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern

of one, two, three, four, one. 

One 

Son, one

cross, one grave,

three nights of death;

Life

Happy Easter, everyone! 

Chick Limerick

I have been sososososo busy today trying to get done stuff I should have done all week. 

Had to make a quick stop at Tractor Supply.  The baby chicks were so loud, we were drawn

to the big pens in the middle of the store.

They are really cute...now.

I've raised chickens before, or rather my parents did. 

I was harassed by them as a child.   Nope, no chickens for me.

I'll get my eggs fresh from the grocery store 

and select freshly plastic wrapped chicken parts to cook for supper.

Limerick

A Limerick is a rhymed humorous or nonsense poem of five lines which originated in Limerick, Ireland.

The Limerick has a set rhyme scheme of : a-a-b-b-a with a syllable structure of: 9-9-6-6-9.  

The rhythm of the poem should go as follows:  

Lines 1, 2, 5: weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak, STRONG 

Lines 3, 4: weak, weak, STRONG, weak, weak, STRONG 

I saw in the store little chickens,

All fluffy and cute as the dickens.

They were grown really sweet,

Under lamps that gave heat,

Awaiting a farmers’ hand pickin’s.

Conifer Quatern

As I sat looking out my windows today at the trees out back, the only non brown or gray color was from the pines. Their needles look so green and fanned out like fireworks to me.  Soon they will be relegated to the background scenery, as the finery of the other trees comes out.

Quatern

A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. It is similar to the Kyrielle 

and the Retourne. It has a refrain that is in a different place in each quatrain.

The first line of stanza one is the second line of stanza two, third line of stanza three,

and fourth line of stanza four. 

A quatern has eight syllables per line. It does not have to be iambic or follow a set rhyme scheme.   

Pine tree displays of fireworks green 

Amid the gray of winter scene

With shadows cast from their full boughs

They boast of all the color now

As maple and oak in between

Pine tree displays of fireworks green

Begin their tiny buds to grow

Those splendid leaves are now the show

Then oak and maple trees turn red

Before their leaves are winter shed

Pine tree displays of fireworks green

Are bits of color in between

But soon amid the graying skies

When snow is back and sunshine dies

Once more we’ll gaze upon the scene

Pine tree displays of fireworks green

I Can't Read

I downloaded 3 books for my iPhone: A Boy Called It, The Lost Boy and A Man Named Dave. I've finished the first two and have begun the third. I haven't read a book since I don't know when. That's mostly because I don't know how to stop once I start.

I really can't read
A book over break
Or at 3 am I'm
Still wide awake.

My vacuuming
Isn't complete
And on my bed
No clean sheet

Walking the dog
Will have to wait
And suppertime
Will just be late

After vacation
It's back to chores
And with a book
I'll be no mores

I'm afraid the time
I use for blogging
Is likewise very
Prime time hogging

I must be wary
And watch the clock
Feed my husband
Take the dog for a walk

I can't neglect
All else because
Obsessive is
As obsessive does!

Consider the Taradiddle

TeacherDance threw out a word on Monday that I could not leave alone either.  I pictured an interesting creature, and I had to let it loose.  Perhaps someone else out there would like to take a swing at the "taradiddle" riddle.  Here's my swing at it!  Thanks TeacherDance for the strange word!

Consider the terrible taradiddle
With teeth as black as a cast iron griddle,
And the fearsome voice of an untuned fiddle,
Claws so sharp they are used to whittle,
Eyes not on top but in his middle,
And from his mouth spew bits of spittle.
It does not matter if you're big or little,
I would not linger nor finger twiddle
Anywhere near a taradiddle!
​

Kyrielle for a Reason

Kyrielle
A Kyrielle is a French form of rhyming poetry written in quatrains (a stanza consisting of 4 lines), and each quatrain contains a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the poem consists of only eight syllables. There is no limit to the amount of stanzas a Kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum. Some popular rhyming schemes for a Kyrielle are:
aabB, ccbB, ddbB, with B being the repeated line, or
abaB, cbcB, dbdB.
Mixing up the rhyme scheme is possible for an unusual pattern of:
axaZ, bxbZ, cxcZ, dxdZ, etc. with Z being the repeated line. The rhyme pattern is completely up to the poet. 

It was a long drive up north to potato country, just this side of the Canadian border.  Plenty of time to think... 

 

Every mile closer to away
Every minute nearer to the day
Every moment happens for a reason
Every one is living their own season


Every moment somewhere a surprise
Every day believing without eyes
Every path being the way He’s on
Every one is living their own season

Every word with gentle kindness uttered
Every deed with compassion buttered
Every thing that’s done should be pleasing
Every one is living their own season

Every mile closer to away
Every minute nearer to the day
Every moment happens for a reason
Every one is living their own season

Okay, I was going to change a line and when I went to do that, I noticed that there was an 8 syllable limitation on the lines.  So now I've changed the Kyrielle to adhere to the format!
I am not sure...I think I like it better.  The last line in each stanza isn't quite as pleasing to me, but perhaps has the same feeling that I was going for.  I definitely wanted to keep the compassion buttered.  If feels all warm and covering and seeping in as compassion should be. What do you think?  Should I just let poetic license rule? Or is the edited better?

This is the edited for syllables one:

Every mile closer to away

Each minute nearer to the day

Each thing happens for a reason

Each is living their own season

Each moment somewhere a surprise

Each day believing without eyes

Each path travel the way He’s on

Each is living their own season

Each word with gentleness uttered

Each deed with compassion buttered

Each thing for others be pleasing

Each is living their own season

Every mile closer to away

Each minute nearer to the day

Each thing happens for a reason

Each is living their own season

A Tyburn to a Twirl

Tyburn
A six line poem consisting of 2, 2, 2, 2, 9, 9 syllables.

The first four lines rhyme and are all descriptive words. The last two lines rhyme and incorporate
the first, second, third, and fourth lines as the 5th through 8th syllables.

Whirly
Twirly
Curly
Girlie
Spinning in her whirly, twirly dress
Is my little curly, girlie lass.

She's a bit older than "little", but still loves a good twirly dress!

Wind, Rain and a Chickadee

Video shot this morning, poem added tonight! Sundays don't give me much writing time, as I'm mostly in church. It turned out to be a lovely day after noon. Before that though, it was a blustery, skirt-swirling-over-the-head kind of day.


Clouds silhouette pines
Steadfast chickadee echoes
Through rain and wind

An Etheree for the Sea

We drove to a neighboring island today.  Still too cold to be out of the car too long oceanside, 

but beautiful nonetheless.

The tide was in, so the gulls and ducks were pretty actively bobbing and ducking for fish. 

We lived in Minnesota for a bit, and it took me a while to learn how to survive without my ocean.

Etheree

The poetry form, Etheree, consists of 10 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables.  Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.  Get creative and write an Etheree with  more than one verse, but follow suit with an inverted syllable count.  Reversed Etheree:  10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1  Double Etheree:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1  ...Triple Etheree, Quadruple Etheree, and so on. 

Sounds

Of waves

And seagulls

Smells of seaweed

Tastes of salty air

Images of bobbing

Gulls, buoys, driftwoods, and boats

Caresses of mist surround me

Sea breeze tangles and tosses my hair

My senses capture the island’s essence

My essence remains in the ocean’s air

Hovering there within the breezes

Soaring with seagulls amid clouds

Surrounding in swirling mists

Bobbing from wave to wave

Slipping on seaweed

Laughing, stretching

Forever

Ocean

Tied

A Ghazal of Rocks in My Life

Ghazal

A Ghazal is a poem that is made up like an odd numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is 
an independent poem. It should be natural to put a comma at the end of the first line. The Ghazal 
has a refrain of one to three words that repeat, and an inline rhyme that preceedes the refrain. 
Lines 1 and 2, then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme, and the last couplet should 
refer to the authors pen-name... The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA etc.

Phew!  I wasn't sure I was going to get a poem in today!  This took longer than I thought it would, and I had to go out for supper in the middle of it.  I've used the Ghazal form...not too friendly a form.  Or maybe it was hard to get my brain in gear.  I wanted something a bit more whimsy with rocks in my life...although whimsy and solid rock don't seem to go together. 

Perhaps the Granite Ships is more what needs to be done with each rock, rather than put a bunch of rocks together in a pile....!

The first stanza of the poem is about being at my grandparents' cottage/home in Harpswell, Maine, where I spent quite a bit of time.  I used rocks as plates and furniture in my days spent in that rocky beached lobstering community. 

Each stanza is really a story in and of itself, so maybe after April poems I'll try writing those stories.

Rocks

Serving sand-sprinkled seaweed on a rock;

my doll’s shale plate on a table of rock.

A wedding gift from my high school friend;

a smooth, large, quartz-ringed wishing rock.

A stage for my son’s musical performances;

a huge, flat-topped, New Hampshire granite rock.

My daughter’s tooth-breaker planted in our Rhode Island yard,

from road construction, uprooted, leftover, granite rock.

A motorcycle ride for a hundred little sun-warmed pebbles,

a discarded beach sock full of treasured Nova Scotia beach rock.

A colorful memory of my mom’s last earthly adventure,

sharp red shafts of Newfoundland cliff rock.

My daughter’s found "mom loves rocks" present to me;

a wonderful, kitchen-cupboard-green, fits-Donna-to-a-T rock.

Granite Ships

My first favorite rocks were in our front woods.  They were two granite ledges that jutted out of the pine needled floor.  We spent many hours on them pretending they were our ships.  We'd jump off and "swim" to the next ledge to clamber aboard.  My two brothers were on one ship, and my sister and I were on the other.  I was the oldest, so I got the pick of the ships!  At the end of the day, my mother would blow an old ship's foghorn that would resonate throughout our rural area, and all the neighbors would know we were on our way home from wherever we had been.

In summer, we braved the wind and waves

On a pine needled, pine-treed sea

Two granite ships set sail each day

With brothers and sister and me.

If you stood on the bow and used a tube

You could see forever out there.

Sometimes you could hear the barking of
A white poodle seal so rare!

Tho' the seas got quite lively and stormy
We'd never be really in fear
We always were safe from all danger
With me as the captain to steer.

We stayed all day and into the eve,

Me and my sibling crew.

We only came in to dock our ships

When the low, loud foghorn blew.

The sound of the horn meant it was time

To head in to port right away,

We were needed by landlubbers, mom and dad;

We’d set sail again the next day!

Thus were the days of my childhood
I wish that those days had not ended.
I love the memory of piney seas and
The first rock that I befriended!

Vivid Memory Villanelle

Villanelle

A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: 
aba aba aba aba aba abaa.
The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the 
poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).
 

I remember awaking in the middle of the night when I was somewhat younger than 4, being scared by a nightmare.  I could not see anything and could not find the light or the door...not that it really bothered me! (Oh, my, I just read it finished now, and I'm getting misty-eyed.  Maybe it did bother me a little bit.)

It was late at night

I was still quite small

I couldn’t reach the light

I wanted to take flight

I could only feel the wall

It was late at night

My dream gave me a fright

And I tried to give a call

I couldn’t reach the light

I must have been a sight

I started to panic and bawl

It was late at night

Found the knob and held it tight

Opened the door, ran down the hall

I couldn’t reach the light

With mom and dad I squeezed in tight

I made myself into a ball

It was late at night

I couldn’t reach the light

A Nonet for the Spring Peepers

Nonet

A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line 
seven syllables, etc... until line nine that finishes with one syllable. It can be on any subject and 
rhyming is optional. 
line 1 - 9 syllables
line 2 - 8 syllables
line 3 - 7 syllables
line 4 - 6 syllables
line 5 - 5 syllables
line 6 - 4 syllables
line 7 - 3 syllables
line 8 - 2 syllables
line 9 - 1 syllable 

 
Last night just before turning in for the evening, my husband called me to the front porch.  We went out and heard the Spring Peepers for the first time this spring.  They were very loud, and I tried to record the sounds, but my phone wasn't strong enough to pick them up.
The Peepers always remind me of when my son was about 3, and he mistook "peepers" for "creatures".  On hot summer nights he would insist that we close the windows so that the "creatures" wouldn't come in.   I tried to explain, but it was too late; he already had an image in his mind.



Warmish night, foggy moon glows softly
Spring peepers all around us as
We stand listening to them
Waking on their first night
 "Creatures," my son said,
"Close the windows
So they won't
Get in
Here."

A Pantoum for Youm...

Pantoum

The pantoum consists of a series of quatrains rhyming ABAB in which the second and fourth lines 
of a quatrain recur as the first and third lines in the succeeding quatrain; each quatrain introduces a 
new second rhyme as BCBC, CDCD. The first line of the series recurs as the last line of the closing 
quatrain, and third line of the poem recurs as the second line of the closing quatrain, rhyming ZAZA.

The design is simple:
Line 1
Line 2
Line 3
Line 4
 
Line 5 (repeat of line 2)
Line 6
Line 7 (repeat of line 4)
Line 8
 
Continue with as many stanzas as you wish, but the ending stanzathen repeats the second and 
fourth lines of the previous stanza (as its first and third lines), and also repeats the third line of 
the first stanza, as its second line, and the first line of the first stanza as its fourth. So the first 
line of the poem is also the last.
 
Last stanza:
Line 2 of previous stanza
Line 3 of first stanza
Line 4 of previous stanza
Line 1 of first stanza

Okay, this was fun!  It's easier to read the examples as you read the formula.  It's not so complicated then.
Inspiration was from one of my students who at the end of the day said "It seemed like a half day!".  And he was right.  It seemed like it to me, too.  I'd changed the pattern of the day since it's the week before vacation and I wanted to try some different things for this last quarter.  I guess it was good.

I must have done something right
"It seemed like a half day," he said.
His eyes were sparkly and bright.
Was it because his mind was fed?

"It seemed like a half day," he said.
The day barely started, then was through -
Was it because his mind was fed?
Perhaps because he'd learned something new.

The day barely started, then was through -
He had a big grin upon his face,
Perhaps because he'd learned something new,
It seemed he really liked this place.

He had a big grin upon his face
His eyes were sparkly and bright.
It seemed he really liked this place,
I must have done something right.

Didacticly Speaking and a Senryu for You

Didactic Poetry

Didactic Poetry is a form of poetry intended for instruction such as for knowledge or to teach. 
(I guess I'm teaching what I'm doing to get an idea for writing.)

Now I set me
Down to write
I cannot think of what to say
Tho I've been busy all the day

Just let my fingers
Tap on keys
Until the words they start to find
That tumble swiftly from my mind

I do not know
What words they'll be
I'll just keep typing til there's sense
And I get off this writer's fence...

Okay. Got it. ( I should save one of these for writer's block day.)

A Senryu

Words stream meaning on
a flat, blank page creating there
a third dimension.

Senryu

Most popular definition, but there is more to senryu than meets the eye:
Senryu (also called human haiku) is an unrhymed Japanese verse consisting of three unrhymed 
lines of five, seven, and five syllables (5, 7, 5) or 17 syllables in all. Senryu is usually written in 
the present tense and only references to some aspect of human nature or emotions.  They possess 
no references to the natural world and thus stand out from nature/seasonal haiku.

Welcome to the Neighborhood

waking mourning doves

coo softly

under hemlocks,

flitting chickadees

fee-bee-ing

between feeder and oak,

sleepy geese 

honk faintly

in the cold river,

robins warble

trilling still

    in branches somewhere,

raucous crows

squawk

territorizing

on tippy treetops,

silent deer

grazily wander and weave

    seeking green,

single stag

startled

snorts and stamps

a warning 

to white tails 

disappearing,

blue and red

ground browse

under the feeder -

the neighborhood 

has been very busy

today.

Tanka for a Cold

Tanka

Tanka is a classic form of Japanese poetry related to the haiku with five non-rhyming lines of five, 
seven, five, seven, and seven syllables.  (5, 7, 5, 7, 7)
The 5/7/5/7/7 rule is rumored to have been made up for school children to understand and learn 
this type of poetry.

Brain fog settles in,
Unfocused, drooping, weary,
Yearning to recline;
But still so much to do ere
Succumbing to that craving.

A Diamante

Diamante

A Diamante is a seven-lined contrast poem set up in a diamond shape.  The first line begins with a 
noun/subject, and second line contains two adjectives that describe the beginning noun.  The third line 
contains three words ending in -ing relating to the noun/subject.  The forth line contains two words that 
describe the noun/subject and two that describe the closing synonym/antonym.  If using an antonym for 
the ending, this is where the shift should occur.  In the fifth line are three more -ing words describing 
the ending antonym/synonym, and the sixth are two more adjectives describing the ending 
antonym/synonym.  The last line ends with the first noun's antonym or synonym.
To make it a bit simpler, here is a diagram.
Line 1: Noun or subject
Line 2: Two Adjectives describing the first noun/subject
Line 3: Three -ing words describing the first noun/subject
Line 4: Four words: two about the first noun/subject, two about the antonym/synonym
Line 5: Three -ing words about the antonym/synonym
Line 6: Two adjectives describing the antonym/synonym
Line 7: Antonym/synonym for the subject

Butterfly

ethereal, lissome

lilting, bobbing, floating

nectar-sipper, lightweight, heavyweight, land-dweller

lifting, lumbering, swaying

enormous, intelligent

Elephant

Time for Six

I remember time
taking so long

to go by
when I was six. 

It doesn't take
much time now

to use up

a bunch of it.

Minute Poetry

The Minute Poem is rhyming verse form consisting of 12 lines of 60 syllables written in strict 
iambic meter.  The poem is formatted into 3 stanzas of 8,4,4,4;  8,4,4,4;  8,4,4,4 syllables.  
The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabb, ccdd, eeff

My Minute Poem:

Time for Six

There is no time but here and now

And that is how 

When you are six

Time slowly ticks.

"In just a minute," Mom will say

But there's no way

To wait for fun

It must be done.

"In just two weeks we'll go," says Dad

And now you're mad

It should be wrong

To wait that long.

Time makes no sense to speeding youth

But here's the truth

What once was slow

Will quickly go

And soon enough you will be grown

And then your tone

Will change a bit

As time will flit.

You now will yearn for slower days

The time to laze

But you can't fix

Not being six.

Okay, now I see that I have too much here...

it's two minutes, not 60 seconds!

"edit, edit"...

There is no time, but here and now

And that is how

When you are six

Time slowly ticks. 

Time makes no sense to speeding youth 

But here's the truth 

What once was slow 

Will quickly go

You then will yearn for slower days

The time to laze

But you can't fix

Not being six.

My Triolet to the Rain

A Triolet is a poetic form consisting of only 8 lines.  Within a Triolet, the 1st, 4th, and  7th lines 
repeat, and the 2nd and 8th lines do as well.  The rhyme scheme is simple:  ABaAbcAB, capital 
letters representing the repeated lines.
Make writing a Triolet more challenging!  Make each line 8 syllables in length (4 metrical feet), 
written in iambic tetrameter (the more common way), or try it in pentameter (English version) 
where each line only has 10 syllables(5 metrical feet). 

Shadow Poetry site

My Triolet to the Rain

The rain falls down and puddles up
Threatening to soak through my shoes
And dampen my spirts and hair
The rain falls down and puddles up
Turning walkways to riverbeds
And melting snowbanks to sandbanks
The rain falls down and puddles up
Threatening to soak through my shoes

My Table

Why 

are you

on

my table

again?

 Whose table?

You
aren't

supposed

to walk on 

my table! 

 Whose table?

I

don't 

want you

on
my table...

 Whose table?

I
just

organized
all these
papers;
get off
my table!

Whose table?

Okay,

I'll move

my papers

off 

your table.

It's okay,

I think

I can

make

them work

for me.

April Snows

April First morn
Snow came plummeting down
To cover the crocus
And slowen the town.
Shovels were put
At the ready that night
For snow in the forecast
Meant need them we might.
Schools were called off
In the dim of the morning
But we were all ready
We'd had lots of warning.
We had all our food
And fetched wood for an hour
So we could stay warm
If we all lost our power.
And then the snow came
A Nor'easter again
And it wern't no joke
It's just April is when
We get that wet stuff
Covering all of our spring
And making us wish
For what May will soon bring.

Always End With a Question?

What has it meant to write every day?
Discipline.
Has it been easy and seemed like child's play?
I only wish.

Were there brain cramps and grumblings some nights?
Yes.
Was slicing the cause of some family fights?
Could be.

Did we, new friends, virtually meet?
Read you Tuesdays!
Was reading their slice a virtual treat?
Deliciously so!

Has writing become our voice or a bore?
Well spoken.
Has writing become our choice or a chore?
Chosen.

As we were writing did we have fun?
Scads.
Are we sad that the work here is done?
It is?

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This is a "double post" as I could not resist the challenge of the "Found iPod Poetry".  I do not have "regular" music on my iPod.  Be aware, it's all Christian music, so it was a challenge to see what could be made of it for a "Found Poem".  Here goes!

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Hold on,

Press on,

Day by day,

Overcomer.

Morning has broken;

Sunlight,

Fill me now;

Use us.

Deep,

Sweet happiness!

One thing I know,

I must be special.

Nearer, still nearer

You raise me up.

I've been changed;

I stand redeemed.

Blessed assurance,

By and by,

You can start all over again,

If you believe.

Wayfaring stranger,

Come home.

I can only imagine

This must be the place!