Repeating line poem

Somehow, repeating the line twice per stanza made the poems brighter -- at least in the ones I wrote -- today's poem only uses the line once per stanza and came out quite a bit darker. Mayber starting off with the word "alligator" didn't help.

Still waters reflect life:

Alligator lurks in weeds
Ducklings hide in reeds
Deep below, an oily carp feeds
Still waters reflect life

Turtles sun on bank
Dying algae stank
From the pool a thirsty dog drank
Still waters reflect life

Eggs a snake is snatching
Snakes a hawk is catching
Mosquito larvae are hatching
Still waters reflect life

Pine needles skimming
Minnows are swimming
On the surface, twilight dimming
Still waters reflect life

Repeating line poem

Here is my repeating line poem for today. I know I don't have to repeat the line within the stanza, but it just seemed to work out well for yesterday's and today's poem.

Repeating line

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Favorite toy
Of baby boy
Bounce, bounce, bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Spinning frog
Watching dog
Bounce, bounce, bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Chewed-up bee
Bad puppy
Bounce, bounce, bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Sticky legs
Puppy begs
Bounce, bounce, bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Baby drool
Forms a pool
Bounce, bounce, bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
Baby’s dance
Puppy pants
Bounce, bounce, bounce

Bounce, bounce, bounce
On the floor
Then no more
Bounce, bounce, bounce

New week. Yay!

New week. Yay! I tried a repeating line poem. I also walked just under 2 miles in just under 25 minutes today, while pushing a baby stroller. That has to count as a cardio workout. :)

Repeating line

Race, walk, stroll
Race the clouds
Race the wind
Race, walk, stroll

Race, walk, stroll
Race the thunder
Race the lightning
Race, walk, stroll

Race, walk, stroll
Race the rain
Race the storm
Race, walk, stroll

Race, walk, stroll
Race the clock
Race the night
Race, walk, stroll

Shorter poetry this week

Ah, so much creativity happens, not necessarily good, when you are awakened at 3 am and can't get back to sleep until 6 am, only to be awakened again at 7 am. Here is another poem written to fit a tune in Thomas' mobile. This one is NOT about the weather, but about nature.

Verse

The moon leaks light.
Each night she loses more.
The sun can make her again bright,
By reflecting from his store.

The moon grows full;
The sun must be beaming.
Oceans are in the moon’s control
The earth softly is dreaming.

The sun makes light.
And sharing with the moon
Will never make the sun less bright.
Sleep. The sun is rising soon.

Shorter poetry this week

This one is more about the effort than the result.

Park rhyme

We went to see Grandma and Grandpa
At their house
Thomas in his car seat was as quiet
As a mouse
Grandma held Thomas. She doesn’t like
To share him
She kissed him and he giggled. Nothing
Could scare him
We visited and decided to
Walk the park
We went around four times until the
Sky grew dark
We rushed to load Thomas in the car
To drive back
On the road rain was falling and the
Sky turned black
We drove through sheets of rain, bad drivers
And lightning
If Thomas didn’t sleep, it might have
Been frightening
But he slept and we made it back home
Mostly dry
Today Thomas was brave, he didn’t
Even cry

Shorter poetry this week

I am so glad I made it back from the library before the thunder storms started. Got to love Florida summers.

Couplets

The sun was shining. The day was fair.
Thomas and I went out for fresh air.
We took the car; we weren’t in a hurry.
We decided to go to the library.
Miss Louise was there, and hard at work,
But Thomas charmed her and made her shirk –
A little, anyway – there still came
Questions, and queries and more the same.
Summer at the library will be fun.
Something is planned for everyone.
For library’s summer I have seen
Printed in a program of bright green.

Shorter poetry this week

I LOVE rainy days that come at the end of a string of hot, dry days. I'm not so crazy about rainy days that come at the end of a string of wet, dreary days.

We had no problems with the rain, but friends of ours are still a bit nervous.


Friends evacuated
Because of a fire
When they returned
They had no power
They watch as the river
In the back grew higher
They fear a house-flooding
Could come any hour
While they watch they wade through
Swampy mud, muck and mire
That rises with even
A light, late spring shower

Shorter poetry this week

OK, you are probably about as sick of rain poems as I am of rain, but this one was inspired by the boy scout pup tents we saw getting soaked at the KOA campground down the road.

Acrostic

Ruined many a picnic
And camping trip
In Central Florida and
North Brevard this weekend

Shorter poetry this week

OK, my monorhyme does have eight lines, but that is all there is -- no more is coming tomorrow -- so it's still shorter. :)

Monorhyme

This afternoon, around ten to two
I thought I saw a patch of blue
I looked again, it was true,
There were a few
Patches of blue
Breaking through.
What was a rain-weary girl to do?
I ran outside and yelled “yahoo”!

Shorter poetry this week

My buddy-in-writing and I decided to take a bit of a break after a challenging week-long poem. This week our poems will be confined to eight lines or fewer, so to kick mine off I wrote a haiku. I'll be writing about weather/seasons/nature this week.

Haiku

Forty days and nights
Of earth-cracking dryness -- then
The rains fell and fell

Sophie's Colors, in full

Here is the entire poem about Sophie's Colors.

Sophie’s Colors

Silly Sophie
Dog of russet red
She likes to pilfer
The covers off our bed

Funny Sophie
Her ears are umber brown --
They seem to stick out more
When I flatten them down

Sweetheart Sophie
She’s full of surprise
Intelligence lurks in
Her soulful brown eyes

Mischievous Sophie
Steals the purple-eyed bunny
When I run after her
She thinks it’s funny

Sophie’s collar
Is striped pink with a bone
If she wanders off
She’ll be brought home

Sophie’s nose is black,
Covered in damp dirt
Oh, no, Sophie, NO!
You’re rubbing my shirt

Sophie’s pink tongue
Gives the baby a bath
I would make her stop
But she’s making him laugh

Knock on orange door
Nobody is there
Except Sophie, who
Has grown tired of fresh air

Sophie’s muddy paws
On cream carpet don’t mix
So she covers her tracks
With some well-placed sticks

Sneaky Sophie
Surfs the counter stone gray
She swipes a napkin
And squirrels it away

Naughty Sophie
Prefers toilet water
To that in the silver
Steel bowl we bought her

Destructive Sophie
Shreds the bed in her room
Our carpet is strewn
With bits of maroon

Sophie’s whip-tail
Thrashes all in her wake
Slashing periwinkles
And making them break

Blue-eyed baby --
Sophie can’t resist him
He giggles when she
Thoroughly has kissed him.

Helpful Sophie
Does a job every night
She guards the slate stroller
And keeps it upright

Sophie from Africa
Can tolerate heat
Except dark gray tarmac
Scalds her tender feet

A wild rabbit plays
In grass, tall and green
Sophie bolts to chase him
But now he can’t be seen

Sophie the red dog
Races the stroller
Then she lies on the road
And wants us to hold her

Hey! Slow down!
Come back here, Sophie!
It’s a walk not a race
There’s no gold trophy

Old movies show
In black, white and gray
Sophie doesn’t mind
She prefers them that way

Tired Sophie
Stretches, straightens and shrugs
Then coils herself on
The mustard wool rug

Complex Sophie
Is quite a confection
Our red dog inspires
Trouble and affection

Sophie's colors, part 6

Here is my sixth installment of Sophie's colors. I think next week I'll tackle something a little less ambitious.

A wild rabbit plays
In grass, tall and green
Sophie bolts to chase him
But now he can’t be seen

Sophie the red dog
Races the stroller
Then she lies on the road
And wants us to hold her

Hey! Slow down!
Come back here, Sophie!
This is a walk not a race
There’s no gold trophy

Sophie's colors, part 5

Week's almost done --yay! Here's my fifth installment. :)

Part 5:

Baby Blue Eyes --
Sophie can’t resist him
Baby giggles when she
Thoroughly has kissed him.

Helpful Sophie
Has a job she does nightly
She guards the slate stroller
And keeps it uprightly

Sophie from Africa
Can tolerate heat
Except the dark gray tarmac
Scalds her tender feet

Sophie's colors, part 4

Here's more of Sophie's colorful tale:

Part 4:

Naughty Sophie
Prefers toilet water
To that in the silver
Steel bowl we bought her

Destructive Sophie
Shreds the bed in her room
Our carpet is strewn
With bits of maroon

Sophie’s whip-tail
Thrashes all in her wake
Upsetting periwinkles
Making them break

Sophie's colors, part 3

I think the value of writing poetry, even if you have no intention of becoming a poet, is that it forces you be succint and vibrant in your word choice. Plus, writing every day is always a good exercise.

Here's my entry for today.

Part 3:

Knock on orange door --
Nobody is there
Except Sophie, who has
Grown tired of fresh air

Sophie’s muddy paws
On cream carpet don’t mix
So she covers her tracks
With some well-placed sticks

Sneaky Sophie
Surfs the counter stone gray
She swipes a napkin
And squirrels it away

Sophie's colors, part 2

Here is the continuation of Sophie's colors.

Sophie’s collar
Is striped pink with a bone
If she wanders off
She’ll be brought home

Sophie’s nose is black,
Covered in damp dirt
Oh, Sophie, NO!
You’re rubbing on my shirt

Sophie’s pink tongue
Gives the baby a bath
I would stop her
But she’s making him laugh

Color poem

I've been challenged to write a poem about colors. I have to write at least two stanzas a day for a week and there needs to be a rhyming scheme. Here is my start...

Silly Sophie
Russet red
I think sometimes
She’s thick in the head

Funny Sophie
Ears umber brown --
They seem to stick out more
When I flatten them down

Sweetheart Sophie
Full of surprise
Intelligence lurks
In her soul-full brown eyes

Mischievous Sophie
Steals the purple-eyed bunny
When I run after her
She thinks it’s funny

Poetry continued

Here is my short Quatrain for today.

Sophie the dog is twelve months old now
She’s no longer considered a pup
Despite this milestone, I think somehow
The silly girl will never grow up

Poetry continued

Here's another slice of life Quatrain for today.


Now I lay me down to sleep
Buster at my head, Chloe, my feet
If, while I sleep, I should turn over,
I’ll wake up without any cover.

Poetry continued

This is a "slice of life" Quatrain.


Here’s a picture of life so sweet:
Thomas and Grandma share a seat
Thomas soon is sleeping fast
By leaning on his Grandma’s cast

Poetry continued

Here is my Quatrain for the day. It is very appropriate for today. :)




Two Trails

Today we watched a countdown
Beginning with the number nine
The shuttle lifted off and
Thomas launched at the same time.

The shuttle left a plume of smoke
Visible in spots of blue.
Thomas left a trail of white puke
That ran down and filled my shoe.

Poetry continued

Here is a monorhyme Quatrain.

Quatrain

Today
On the tenth of May
I celebrated my first Mother’s Day
Yay!

Poetry continued

Here is a Quatrain that is not a cat poem. :)

Ode to a Sleeping Baby

Your chest heaves rhythmically
Your eyelashes brush your cheek
Your lips tease a smile.
As if you wish to speak.

I reach out to touch you
In bed as you sleeping lay
Your eyes flutter open
And say, “please go away”.

Poetry continued

I couldn't remember if Quaterns had to rhyme. I wrote this poem, which might be a Quatern, but is definitely a Quatrain. Anyway, my pick for this week's style would be a Quatrain (coz if I'm just not feeling it, I only have to write four lines).


Quatern

Where does one end and the other begin?
A little black and white cat nestles
In a black and white cat pillow
Black and white, tail to head, head to tail

Little cat hides in a cat-shaped pillow
Where does one end and the other begin?
He raises up his head and stretches
And the pillow moves in sympathy

Black and white cat chews the velvety tail
Of a black and white cat pillow
Where does one end and the other begin?
Pillow and cat both have dampened coats

The little black and white cat rises,
And with tottering legs he deserts
The cat-shaped pillow, so it is clear
Where does one end and the other begin.

Poetry continued

A Rondolet is another repeating line poem. It is a seven-line stanza, with line 1, 3 and 7 being the same. I have returned to the cat theme -- at least for a little while.

Rondolet

What is life without a cat?
Cats enrich the human race.
What is life without a cat?
If you dare, answer me that.
The world would be a lonely place
If I could not kiss a furry face.
What is life without a cat?

Poetry continued

One of the styles I didn't have a chance to explore in April was the Monorhyme -- all lines end in the same sound -- so I tried that one for today. I must say, it made me feel very Suessian. :)

Monorhyme

As I was sleeping the other day
(It was a Tuesday
And not quite the first of May),
Dr. Zambos, J.
Cut my gallbladder away.
(It was filled with many stones of light grey.)
When I woke up, I saw Rene,
Who was the nurse for my post-op stay,
And who has twins – Joe and Jennae,
And they
Come and play
At Storytime on Thursday.
Nurse Rene
Tended me as in bed I lay
And shot me with drugs to allay
My pain and take it away,
Although, with some delay.
She was my best friend for the day.
At least, that is what I did say
Before I drifted far away…

Poetry continued

One of the styles of poetry that my friend wrote during Poetry Month was the Gratitude Poem. I didn't write one during April, so here is my Gratitude Poem -- I have so much to be grateful for, so I just tried to hit the highlights.

Gratitude Poem

I am grateful that I have a wonderful husband
I am grateful that my wonderful husband has a decent job
I am grateful that the doctors were wrong and I was able to conceive
I am grateful that the doctors were wrong and I was able to deliver
I am grateful that I have a beautiful baby
I am grateful that my beautiful baby is perfectly healthy
I am grateful that I am able to work
I am grateful that I am able to stay home with my beautiful baby
I am grateful that I have a comfortable home to stay in with my beautiful baby
I am grateful that I have two sweet cats that keep me warm at night, even in the summer
I am grateful that I have a silly dog that makes me laugh
I am grateful that God has given so much to me

Poetry continued

A friend and I decided to continue trying to write a poem a day -- it would be good writing practice. She suggested colors for a theme, so here's my poem:

The colors of me --

My bandages are white
My stitches are black
My incisions are red
My bruises are yellow
Green and
Purple