A writing challenge for members of our message board was to write a poem around a list of words, or things.
They had the option of using one word or all and these are the poems they wrote.


The list

calendar

dirty socks

dish of ice cream

king size

gracious

"....stretch of the imagination"

box of antique postcards

 
 

Sledding Fun



The calendar flapped on the wall from the air coming up from the register in the floor below.
Outside the ground was covered with a blanket of gray white snow.



The snow on the lawn often had the color of dirty socks as it was mixed with a generous coating of soot from the chimneys above.
Often it was adorned by someone's lone and missing glove.



The city children often would have liked Mother to make them a dish of snow ice cream,
But the snow was too contaminated to make the delicacy of which they could only dream.



The family's king size sled was hitched to a back porch post.
It was awaiting a trip to the country and a fun filled coast.



Father was gracious as the children asked him over and over when they could take the sled out for a run.
It was Saturday, they were bored and ready for some fun.



Mother was busy going through her box of antique postcards, And wasn't too eager to get out in the cold,
But Father was at last ready to take the children for their sledding adventure, no matter how bold.



By no "....stretch of the imagination", was Mother getting on that sled with the rest of her brood.
She was content with making them a thermos of hot chocolate and a basket of food.



 

Dirty Socks



Looked at the calendar, my oh my,
Tis February already, what can I say,
Time dos fly and I forgot,
Ain’t done no washing since last year.


Dirty socks, boy they smell,
Dang wet feet do feed the stink.
But into the washer they do go,
As I do clean house.


While the washer does run,
A dish of ice cream I shall have.
Black walnut, yes indeed,
Now a wearing my Christmas socks.


Man this washer is so neat,
King size it really is.
Wash two weeks’ worth of clothes,
Wonder how it would be if I took a bath?


Goodness gracious, mercy me,
Forgot about the wool a shrinking.
And dang I liked them socks and the shirt.
But they now too little be.


Don’t need a stretch of the imagination
When into the closet I dug.
Things back, way, way back,
Things I ain’t worn in fifty years.


Found a box of Christmas cards,
But they today are real antiques,
For they were from 1919,
Praising our returning vets.


Well, the wash is done and I am clean
Time to get out of here,
But first, I wonder if,
There are any coins in that washing machine?



 

A Strange Dream



I had to look at the calendar,
I think I've lived this day before.
The sunlight bends like usual,
And the cat still has to snore.


I have to admit that I feel lazy.
Like a basket filled with rocks.
Some things I just HAVE to do!
Like wash the dirty socks.


Last night I tossed and turned.
Then had a really strange dream.
I dreamed I was in an evening gown,
Sitting in a dish of ice cream.


For dinner we had frozen pizza.
The "King Size" kind you know.
Didn't bother with a dessert.
I guess the desire did grow.


We don't do that 'Gracious Living'
Microwaving is not an art.
And to hell with Martha Stewart!
What a boring tart.


I said ; "If by any stretch of the imagination,
We ever go out to eat,
Could we go someplace besides
The pizzeria down the street?"


In the attic I found a box of antique postcards,
Stuck under an old broken bed.
They were to my Great-Grandma.
And she's a long time dead.


The socks are now washed and drying.
The kitchen is cleaned up nice.
I'm sorting through the postcards,
And finding evidence of mice!






 

Antique Postcards



RUMAGING THROUGH GRANDMA'S ATTIC
THERE BOUND WITH A RIBBON OF PINK
ANTIQUE CARDS AN ENOURMOUS STACK
SO WHAT WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO THINK


SHOULD SHE LEAVE THEM ALONE UNTOUCHED
MIGHT HER CURISOITY WIN
SHE HAD TO SNOOP SHE COULDN'T STOP
WAS SNOOPING REALLY A BIG SIN?


SHE READ ONE AND THEN ANOTHER
THE DISCOVERY QUITE A SHOCK
LOVE LETTERS NOT FROM HER GRANDPA
BUT SOME MAN BY THE NAME OF JOCK


EACH ANTIQUE CARD HAD A LACE TRIM
AND WRITTEN BY A FEATHER QUILL
WHO WAS THIS JOCK THAT GRANDMA LOVED
DID SHE HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM STILL


NOT HEARING FOOTSTEPS ON THE STAIR
GRANDMA CAUGHT HER IN THE SPY ACT
COLOR ROSE INTO HER YOUNG CHEEKS
HOW TO GET OUT OF THIS WITH TACT?


SHE DECIDED TO SPEAK HONEST
AND ASKED GRANDMA WHO JOCK COULD BE
GRANDPA CAME TO JOIN THEM RIGH THEN
WHY DEAR, JOCK HAPPENS TO BE ME


BUT GRANDPA YOUR NAME IS GRANDPA
WHY IS THAT IF JOCK IS YOUR NAME
MY DEAR GRANDPA IS FAMILY SPOKE
BUT GRANDPA AND JOCK ARE THE SAME



 

My Sweet



In this world there is none other
Than my sweet I live the days for,
Joining me late in the evenin' time,
When I quietly shut the bedroom door.


I am in heaven at the end of the day,
When that sweet of mine comes my way,
So seductive my forbidden fruit,
So smooth, in perfect taste to boot.


I lie back on my pillow my sweet in hand
Lookin' back on events of the day
All in all, I think, it went pretty grand,
My bowl of ice cream deserve-ed pay.



 

Antique Postcards



I COLLECT POSTCARDS
NEW AND OLD
ONCE LONG AGO
AT A YARD SALE I FOUND A BLACK
ALBUM FULL OF OLD POST CARDS.


SOME WERE FROM BEFORE I WAS BORN
SOME WERE NEVER POST MARKED.
A FEW WERE FROM SONS TO THEIR MOMS.
A FEW FROM MILITARY MEN TO THEIR FAMILIES.
A FEW BETWEEN LOVERS.
A COUPLE FROM FAMILIES ON VACATION.


NOW I LOOK IN MY METAL TRUNK
MY MOM'S OLD TRUNK
THERE I FIND CARDS FROM ME TO HER
CARDS FROM MY CHILDREN TO ME.
SO LONG AGO IT SEEMS NOW .
GEE, THIS ONE WAS FIFTY YEARS AGO. FROM MY LOVE TO ME.






 

              

 

              

 

 

Spellbound



Happy Valentine's Day



EmeraldAnniversary



Almost February



Haiku: Swans and Cygnets



Wonders



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