show off their new spins on
the one that got away
show off their new spins on
the one that got away
Since this is National Poetry Month, I dared to hop over to Judy D-B’s blog and issue her a challenge — based on her own suggestion, mind you — to write a poem using at least three of the following words:
chlorophyll, fettuccine, rosemary, poison ivy, parakeet, and Greenland.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist — and she hasn’t. You can read her verse here: Green Cuisine. Now I invite any other readers to wander the green woods with us and write a poem using at least three of those words. You can give the title and leave a link to your poem in the comments below.
Once I had these words in front of my eyes, my own thoughts started to whirl in a kaleidoscope of green chips and I composed a poem as well. Unlike Judy, I didn’t succeed in using all the words.
One day a poison ivy patch
attracted little sister;
before too long she started to scratch
and itch turned into blister.
Our mom was crushing rosemary
planning a meatloaf lunch
with fettuccine on the side,
when in trooped our sad bunch.
Mom boiled up some chamomile
to make a soothing potion,
sent brother to Greenland’s drug store
for a jug of calamine lotion.
And all the while my sister wailed
our parakeet kept repeating,
Our grandma’s, “Count your blessings now.
The joys of life are fleeting.”
Good morning everyone. Cloudy, drippy day here in south-central Sask. Not rain, but the heavy mist that rolled in during the night has made everything damp. I think everyone’s wishing for a day of good steady rain, especially the farmers.
The seniors in our church decided to have a potluck supper yesterday evening and we were among the number enjoying the delicious meal. We were about 25 in all and every lady brought one large dish, so no lack of food.
Some ladies were asking me what I plan to do today to celebrate my 66th birthday. I have a specific goal — my birthday present to me: I want to work on Seasons of Gold until it’s done and ready to be published Saturday. My son-in-law has uploaded an improved cover image to KDP, so now I need to add the manuscript, then can view it all. Then let it sit a few days; there’s always some last minute, “Oh, I’d better add /change …”
Actually the whole file is put together except for maybe a few more images, and to go through and check the spacing of the lines. I don’t know what prompts Kindle Create to do what it does, but it tends to toss extra spacing in here and there. Not a whole extra line, which would be obvious, but .19 of an extra line. Enough that if you look close you can see this poem is a bit farther apart from its follower than the follower is from its follower. If you follow me. 😉
Re: images. I really like the little hand-drawn illustrations in some of my haiku books. Birds, cherry trees, all very old-Japan looking. You know the type:
However, I have often used images from Pixabay to illustrate my poems and want to use the same type for my e-book. I’m doing about one small image and three or four poems per page.
Having a sense of humor, I’d like to stick this one in, along with Bobby Burns famous words. I don’t know if I dare be this silly in a book of Japanese-style poetry, but a wry look at human nature is what senryu is all about. In fact, I suspect this picture would have given Issa a chuckle.
The Ragtag daily prompt came through at 9:30 pm last night, giving me lots of time to think about a response to the prompt word THIEF. As I consider all these years that have slipped by and wondered, as so many others, “where the time has gone,” I thought of this verse, written by Scottish poet Harvey Scott:
I saw the old thief, Father Time,
Come hirpling down the road;
He had a sack upon his back,
Lost minutes were his load.
He opened it and showed to me
Not minutes, but a host
Of years, decades, a century
And more of minutes lost.
“I want to buy year,” I said,
“And I shall pay you well.”
“If this earth’s mould were finest gold,
To you I would not sell,
For I have minutes stolen from kings,
From Milton, Shakespeare, Bach.
How could you buy such precious things?
Your common gold is trash!”…
He tied his sack and said, “Farewell.
Young man, I’ve got my fee,”
For while I tried to make him sell,
He stole an hour from me!
that thieving wind
has robbed another clothesline
the flowers all pink
I posted this account 18 months back, but my new followers may enjoy it so I’ll post it again.
Does anyone remember this old song?
“I was strolling through the park one day
…in the merry, merry month of May
…and I got a strange surprise…”
Back when we lived in Moose Jaw, SK, my husband and I were strolling through Crescent Park, located right near the heart of the city, early one morning. And we did indeed get a strange surprise…
In the center of the park is a cenotaph, a memorial to those soldiers from Moose Jaw who were killed in action in the two world wars. This marble pillar with its bronze plaques was encircled by a flower bed in the shape of a big star. So think five points of the star planted to flowers and between the points lush green grass. This flower “star” was encircled by a sidewalk round-about, with several lanes or paved paths going off to the south, west, and north, leading to other park attractions.
As I said, we took our walk soon after sunrise — and it was early spring, so the bedding flowers hadn’t been planted yet. Thus the points of the star were bare black earth awaiting the bedding plants. Bob and I had come up the south path and were following around the main circle when we stopped, amazed.
There, nicely laid out in one of the star points was a pale blue nylon nightgown.
We stood there eyeing it for awhile, contemplating the possibilities. It obviously hadn’t been just dropped there; rather, it was spread out as if on display. Across the street from the park were several three- to five-story apartment buildings. Had it blown off someone’s balcony when they’d hung a few things outside to dry?
Or was this someone’s idea of a practical joke?
I stepped into the flowerbed and retrieved the nightgown. It had a few spots from its tumble on the dirt, but was fairly clean for all that. I held it up. It was sleeveless and double-layered, the outside being sheer nylon, the inside opaque. Not bad. I took it along home and washed it; the fabric proved to be in good condition with hardly a snag.
There was at the time a small paper put out locally, called “ The Shopper,” full of ads anyone could place for free. We decided to give the owner a chance to claim her lost property by placing an ad in this paper, but Bob suggested giving the ad a humorous twist in case the whole thing was a joke. So we sent in the following:
Found in bed (flower) in Crescent Park: one blue nightgown. Free to the person who can come up with the best explanation of how it got there.
Nobody answered the ad. Seeing as the nightgown fit me just fine…I decided, “Finders keepers.”
okay it’s just a coffee ground
that floater in my mug
I just had to make half a dozen tries to catch the one floating in my coffee, so why not write a verse on the subject?
Another writer this morning mentioned that this is Groundhog Day. Here’s my condensed contribution to the fun:
insisting it’s spring, teed off