Tag Archives: Poetry

Go Around Inspired

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Today’s challenge from Word of the Day: INSPIRING

Ah! How can I neglect such an easy prompt when I find so many things around to inspire me? Lately I’ve been “creating” several songs for our school children, taking some old forgotten tunes and writing new words — or some old poems and setting them to a tune. I found this inspiring poem last night, and think the first verse might make and nice school song.

If You Can’t Go Over or Under, Go Round

by Joseph Morris
(born 1889)

A baby mole got to feeling big,
And wanted to show how he could dig;
So he plowed along in the soft, warm dirt
Till he hit something hard, and it surely hurt!
A dozen stars flew out of his snout;
He sat on his haunches, began to pout;
Then rammed the thing again with his head–
His grand-pap picked him up half dead.
“Young man,” he said, “though your pate is bone.
You can’t butt your way through solid stone.
This bit of advice is good, I’ve found:
If you can’t go over or under, go round.”

A traveler came to a stream one day,
And because it presumed to cross his way,
And wouldn’t turn round to suit his whim
And change its course to go with him,
His anger rose far more than it should,
And he vowed he’d cross right where he stood.
A man said there was a bridge below,
But not a step would he budge or go.
The current was swift and the bank was steep,
But he jumped right in with a violent leap.
A fisherman dragged him out half-drowned:
“When you can’t go over or under, go round.”

If you come to a place that you can’t get through,
Or over or under, the thing to do
Is to find a way round the impassable wall,
Not say you’ll go YOUR way or not at all.
You can always get to the place you’re going,
If you’ll set your sails as the wind is blowing.
If the mountains are high, go round the valley;
If the streets are blocked, go up some alley;
If the parlor-car’s filled, don’t scorn a freight;
If the front door’s closed, go in the side gate.
To reach your goal this advice is sound:
If you can’t go over or under, go round!

NOTE:

This was published in the 1920s in the book, Poems of Inspiration, which has lately been reprinted. You are one who enjoys these upbeat old poems, here’s the Amazon link.

Circling Round Insomnia

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Hello Everyone! I see we have another hoar-frosty morning in this part of the province. A bit of wind on Saturday dusted most of last week’s collection off the trees and shrubs, but a fog rolled in last night and touched them all up again. Very unusual for November.

I’m glad for another Monday morning, a new week ahead. I’ve some specific goals to meet and posts I’d like to write. And it’s December already! 🙂

Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day is CIRCUMVENT

There are a lot of things one might try to get around, usually rules or taboos, but this morning I’m thinking of circumventing (getting around) insomnia. If such a use is permissible.

Sometimes I imagine counting things, or working on an assembly line. Usually I read. Not just a boring, soporific book, but something that draws relaxing images in my mind; my favourite choices are poetry and haiku. Ron Evans, a good on-line acquaintance once sent me four slim books by Peter Pauper Press, the Japanese Haiku Series, with poems by various haiku teachers and poets of past centuries — the “old masters.” I usually have one of these by my bedside, along with an old Friendship Book of Francis Gay.

Trouble is, as I’m reading I get inspired and soon have to get up, find pen and paper, and record what comes to me. Oh, well. Here are several haiku that came to me Saturday night:

her reflection on the pond
rippled by a water bug
hurrying somewhere

footprints in the snow
I gaze down the sidewalk
wondering who

the bird notes soar
and I try – but my tune
has no wings

Hello December

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In honour of the winter season upon us I thought I should change my header image. Scrolling through Pixabay I found this girl and knew she’d be perfect for my blog.

We’ve been having postcard-type winter scenes these days, as the weather has blessed us with almost a week of fog and barely a breath of wind. The poplar and other trees surrounding our year — and every yard— have been transformed into “white pine.” We have a single strand of black chain-link “fence” encircling our little lawn in front of the church building, and I noticed last night that the posts have grown white moustaches at the top. Looks cute!

We’ve been having a series of revival meetings at church this week, starting last Friday evening, so that has kept us busy every evening. Also, I’ve been working on two songs for the school children. The one I’ve written the words for, using the tune, “Sing A Song of Sixpence.” I’ve called it “The Pizza Order.” Children are asking “Sis” to bring home pizza, first one, then two — listing all the toppings they want. Then they decide to invite their cousins “for a pizza jamboree” and want a third pizza. Finally Mom says, “Pizza costs too much… Just bring home buns and weiners and we’ll do a barbecue.” And everybody groans.

The second, which I’m working on now, started with the tune to an old English Christmas folk-song, “The Boar’s Head Carol.” Do any of you know this one? I’ve paired it with the “Canadian Camping Song”, an 1880s poem by James Edgar. It’s taking me some time and effort to adjust the music to fit the words of the verse — and to suit my taste in melody ups and downs. 😉

I cooked supper at the Villa last night and am on for dinner today, then in the afternoon we’re to go to the Christmas supper put on by the Veterinary Clinic staff. Bob’s part-time bookkeeper there. There’s church this evening and I’m cooking dinner at the Villa tomorrow. So this weekend is a busy time for us.

I wonder how many of you others have already started with Christmas preparations and events? I admire folks who get their preparations done ahead of time; I’m such a last-minute type.

I’ll end with this humorous little incident I read years back. I think you’ll get a chuckle.

Baby’s Arrival Call

Three-year-old Molly was spending a few days at Grandma’s house and had invited her cousin Jill over for a tea party one afternoon. As they were setting the table, Molly told Jill, “My Mommy’s gone to the hospital to get a baby. But I don’t know how she knew it would be ready to go.”

Jill, a year older and wiser, explained the process. “Oh, that’s easy. When the baby feels like coming it just phones your mom and says ‘Come and get me’.”

Differing Opinions

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Fandango’s challenge word this morning is CONTRAST

I offer this poem as my response:

THE DOCTOR
by Edgar Guest

I don’t see why Pa likes him so,
and seems so glad to have him come;
he jabs my ribs and wants to know
if here and there it’s hurting some.

He holds my wrist, ‘cause there are things
in there which always jump and jerk;
then, with a telephone he brings,
he listens to my breather work.

He taps my back and pinches me,
then hangs a mirror on his head
and looks into my throat to see
what makes it hurt and if it’s red.

Then on his knee he starts to write
and says to Mother, with a smile:
“This ought to fix him up all right.
We’ll cure him in a little while.”

I don’t see why Pa likes him so.
Whenever I don’t want to play
he says, “The boy is sick, I know!
Let’s get the doctor right away.”

And when he comes, Pa shakes his hand,
and hustles him upstairs to me,
and seems contented just to stand
inside the room where he can see.

Then Pa says every time he goes,
“That’s money I am glad to pay;
it’s worth it, when a fellow knows
his pal will soon be up to play.”

But maybe if my Pa were me,
and had to take his pills and all,
he wouldn’t be so glad to see
the doctor come to make a call.

From the book, Collected Verse of Edgar A. Guest,
©1934 by the Reilly & Lee Co

Word-lovers’ Camaraderie

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A word-lovers’ fiesta that forgottenman started in Judy Dykstra-Brown‘s post, Cellar Door, has led to me writing this poem as my repartee. While I’m normally one who prefers simple words, I get into the spirit of weighty-words now and then. Now this collocation can be my response to the Word of the Day prompt: CAMARADERIE.

NOTE: I’ve given definitions at the end, so you won’t have to look up these heavy-weights like I did. 🙂

Ode to Periphrasis

The persiflage of my propinquity
Thanksgiving afternoon
led to my iniquity
of falling asleep to the croon
of Uncle Freddie’s monologue,
his riparian success
at anadromous angling—
and somehow in the mess

I muttered words inchoate
that enthralled my kith and kin
disrupting Fred’s rodomontade
in the middle of his spin.
Then all ears were attentive
to what I might reveal
of dissolute behaviour
in my half-conscious spiel.

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Dictionary:
camaraderie – a spirit of friendly good-fellowship
repartee – a quick and witty reply
collocation – the act or result of arranging or placing together.
Specifically: arrangement or conjoining of linguistic elements (such as words)

periphrasis – use of a longer phrasing in place of a possible shorter form
persiflage – frivolous bantering talk
monologue – a long speech monopolizing conversation
riparian – relating to the bank of a natural watercourse, river, lake, or tidewater
anadromous – ascending rivers from the sea for breeding –like salmon that go upriver to spawn
inchoate – imperfectly or partly formed, incoherent
rhodomontade – a bragging speech
dissolute – lacking restraint, especially in things thought of as vices

A Book of Clouds #199: through maelstrom

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Here’s a verse from poet Frank Prem that I found quite inspiring. I hope you’ll enjoy it, too.

Seventeen Syllable Poetry

199

maelstrom
blue

a ray
of light
will still
finds the path

to right where
you stand

~

Poem #199 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: A Book of Clouds.

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