25/ Another Poem for Children

                                      
                                      Under the Covers

I know it's past my bedtime

but I am not asleep.

My eyes are widely open,

my concentration deep.

Even in my cozy bed

with blankets piled up pink,

of things like dreams and slumber

I cannot even think.

I know these pages all by heart,

but I need one more look.

Although I've read it seven times

it's still my favorite book.

24/ A Poem for Children

Barking Birds

Canada geese wave playfully;
a squiggly "V" divides the sky.
Their conversation sounds to me
like 50 dogs have learned to fly.

23/ Little Poem - Crocus

Crocus

Somewhere underneath the white,
below the soil, where there's no light,
a race is run and April wins:
Winter ends and spring begins.

22/ Itsy-Bitsy Spiders

I wrote this on the fly today, typed directly into this post, inspired by . . . well, you'll see.


Itsy-Bitsy Spiders

My desk faces a rough-hewn hemlock wall;
matching beams stripe the ceiling.
The wood is dark, making it impossible
to see where the infinitesimal spiderlings
come from—the ones that appear
as the faintest grey dots on my monitors.

The dots move in that wonderfully unique
way spiders have, making them instantly
recognizable. They appear every summer,
trusting me not to cover them with the stacks
of papers that grow like stalagmites around
my keyboard. More likely they don't think
about me at all, but I think about them.

I think about their invisible nest on the ceiling,
how many siblings share the egg case(s),
what kind of spiders they might be, and where
their mother is hanging out. I try not to think
about the ones I don't see on my monitors—
the risk-taking ones that almost certainly land
every summer, weighing nothing, in my hair.

21/ Introducing the Clogyrnach

Perhaps you've heard of the Clogyrnach, but I hadn't. Until now. This poem can be as long as you like, but each stanza goes like this:

A rhyme - 8 syllables
A rhyme - 8 syllables
B rhyme - 5 syllables
B rhyme - 5 syllables
B rhyme - 3 syllables
A rhyme - 3 syllables


How Varied the Sounds of a Cat

How varied the sounds of a cat!
You'd think they'd be meows, but that's
not all by a mile.
One sounds like a smile—
sharper—while
one's just flat.

20/ All I Can Manage This Week

Pre-Ticks

Happy, excited,
we would drive to school
to free our kids
for lunch with us,
dining out to celebrate
the first day of spring.

19/ Writing as a Famous Person

It's interesting to do this, and I thought I'd do a lot more of them than I have so far.


                                      Eva Braun on Her Wedding Day

A man like you has made me a wife;

I can hardly wait for covetous eyes.

Doubt can’t mist their narrow minds;

you’ve chosen me before the world.

I’ll dangle my hand from a pretty car,

fingers callused from stubborn oars,

one golden now, like all the Fraus

who clucked at me through hoary stares.

You ask if I would die for you.

Silly man, you know I would.

Have I not sworn to follow you

even unto death, my Wulf?

I felt this promise from the first,

darkroom lit like planet Mars,

stirring rod moved back and forth,

my hand warm above the pans

of chemicals, and then I’d watch

your face emerge a hundred times.

Something about your eyes, I said,

but then we met.  But then we met.

Husband and wife.  Like anyone.

We need not embrace for them to know

you lift my hair and press my skin,

and let me touch you now and then.

18/ Epigram 3

To Those Sweaty People at the Gym

The basic difference between us is thus:
You do repetitions with lots of fuss,
then do them again till you can do none;
I do none, and then I'm done.

17/ Epigram 2

To a Vomiting Seven-Year-Old

Forgive us, pet, those silly names;
we thought it just a pleasant game.
Happy Hurler (I liked that best),
Prince of Puke, and all the rest,
we hoped would turn you from your tum
and make you think of things more fun.
We figured they would bring you cheer;
too bad you didn't like them, dear.

16/ Epigram 1

Ye gods . . . I'm nine days behind.

An epigram is a short, witty poem that is easy to remember and written to be remembered. They have no particular form except their brevity. I've been known to end a poetry reading with one of these. ("Leave 'em laughing.")


To the Sanity-Challenged Woman on Main Street

I sympathize, I really do,
but with your insulated shoes,
mackinaw, and wooly socks,
I'm sorry, but you make me hot.

15/ A Colorful Found Poem

A friend teaches English as a second language to adult immigrants. These were statements made by some of them. I think they were from Africa.

The Paintbox, a found poem

Orange, I feeling so happy with life.
Red make me think in the love.
Purple makes me think of wind.
Green makes me think of sunrise.
Red reminder to peoples left me
          they are in the sky.
Orange makes me sit down.