
brisk walk outside
fresh air, sunshine, crocuses
ballots in the mail
brisk walk outside
fresh air, sunshine, crocuses
ballots in the mail
morning river walk
beavers busy on the bank
essential workers
Our Wisconsin governor has issued a "Safer at Home" order for the state. I'll try to post a new poem each day based on my experiences and perceptions. Stay safe, everyone!
Here is a wagon of flowers for you
to thank you for all the good work you do.
In terrible times, you still pull through.
You inspire me to do all that I can, too.
While the world lurches from one crisis to another, I'm tempted to curl up in a blanket and hope everything will quietly improve on its own.
But no.
When I look for silver linings, I see people pitching in all over the place, largely unrecognized, trying to make the world safer and cleaner and fairer.
This tiny token of appreciation is for everyone who feeds hungry people, registers voters, sews for sustainability, picks up trash, studies and educates, contacts legislators, marches for justice, knocks doors for trustworthy political candidates, does anything and everything to help. Thank you!
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Sloth Reads. Enjoy!
Cooking a Poem
You never know how long a poem will take.
The act of writing's not like baking cake.
It might resemble cooking tasty stew
with spicy words emerging from the blue,
a cup of images, a dash of rhyme—
the one essential thing to add is time.
Age improves a draft. Don't watch the clock!
Just think of pickles crisping in a crock.
You could try marinating overnight.
A week, a year, or more might be just right.
You open up an oven door too soon;
souffles collapse like craters on the moon.
A poem rarely pops into your head
like some kind neighbor's gift of fresh-baked bread.
Unlike a pie or cookies or a cake,
a poem takes as long as it will take.
—© JoAnn Early Macken 2020
Today's poem was inspired by David Harrison's Word of the Month challenge. (February's word is "age.")
Follow David's #AfterDarkBlogTour to find out about his new poetry collection, AFTER DARK, POEMS ABOUT NOCTURNAL ANIMALS. His 97th book, illustrated by Stephanie Laberis, it features creatures that stir about their business after the sun goes down and makes its debut on Tuesday, February 25.
Linda has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at Teacherdance. Enjoy!
Fog makes the bridge disappear,
disguises the bayou,
conceals the buildings beyond it.
Fog muffles traffic noise,
hushes gulls' calls,
shushes barking dogs.
Fog spangles spiderwebs,
plays tic-tac-toe on window screens,
softens the view through my glasses.
--JoAnn Early Macken
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Reading to the Core. Enjoy!
JoAnn
I've fallen out of a habit that
I used to think defined me.
I hope to find more joyful moments
ahead, not only behind me.
I don't really want to write today,
but I want to want to again.
I miss the surprise of finding out
what secrets flow from my pen.
They say if you act like you're doing a thing,
then it might come back to you.
Could I jump into a new stanza?
Well, here's what I'm going to do:
Gather my pens and good luck charms.
Endeavor to put an end to
this slump. I might not write today,
but I can surely pretend to.
My sister Eileen gave me the idea for this one. ("I want to want to paint, but I don't really want to.") We'll get there together, I hope!
Sally Murphy has today's Poetry Friday Roundup. Enjoy!
From notebooks and desk drawers,
from folders and files,
from pockets and teetering tabletop piles,
gather your scribbles,
your notes and your jots—
ideas that don't fit your poems or plots.
Shred if you must,
or just toss them in
the helpful, convenient
recycling bin.
In bins, in trucks, in recycling plants,
snippets combine, completely by chance.
They'll evaporate into the bountiful air,
ready for someone to notice and care.
Ready for someone awaiting a muse.
Ready for someone to snatch up and use.
Every idea deserves its own spot—
a real home in somebody's poem or plot.
So make room. Set yours free!
They'll be wondrously new
to someone who's paying attention
like you.
—JoAnn Early Macken
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Carol's Corner. Enjoy!
JoAnn
Peering Ahead
There's a light at the end of this tunnel.
It's still faint, but it's starting to glow.
If I squint, I can just barely see it,
and it's so reassuring to know
that persistence is always the answer
and if I keep plugging away,
that light will grow brighter and brighter.
I'll burst through to sunlight one day.
I'm awfully excited about the middle grade nonfiction manuscript I'm writing, Turn This Earth Around: Everyday Ways to Help Our Planet. Although I have a long way to go (and I don't have a publisher yet), I'm beginning to find a rhythm in the work. Everything takes time.
As I research, I'm experimenting. I've been sewing reusable shopping bags for several years. Lately, I've tried making my own toothpaste, tortillas, and beeswax wraps. I'm learning.
I'm also accumulating tons of information. Some of it keeps changing. So I'm creating a companion web site where I'll post some of the most helpful tidbits. I hope to reveal it soon.
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Jama's Alphabet Soup. Enjoy!
JoAnn
You know how you get up in the morning and check the weather forecast, and you see that rain is on its way again, so you figure you'd better get your walk in early, and maybe today is finally the day to scatter the last of the milkweed seeds that spent the winter in the garage after you stored all you thought you could possibly use in the refrigerator to plant when the weather warms up? So you head to the bike path and spread those seeds around the bare spots along one side, and it's already foggy and kind of damp, so they stick to the dirt instead of flying away, and you keep walking through the wet grass, even after your feet are soaked, scattering milkweed seeds and hoping they'll sprout and monarchs will come, along with all the other creatures that benefit from milkweed, until you reach the garlic mustard patch that goes on and on and on, and it gets harder and harder to find any bare spots?
But eventually you do, and all the seeds are spread, and by then you have to pee, so you walk into the clubhouse of the golf course in the public park that your tax dollars pay for, and you see that someone has knocked down two swallows' nests in the entranceway because heaven forbid some bird poops outside the clubhouse, and when you come back out, you notice that there is not one dandelion on the whole golf course, which you know means that the park has been poisoned with pesticides, and you wonder what will happen to the worms that those robins over there are hunting for, and wait a minute—are there any worms? And you wish the robins good luck and safe hunting, and you turn around to head home thinking, How on Earth are we going to fix this?
And then you realize that you just said "we." Because all over the world, millions of people like you are trying to do the right thing, trying to care for our planet in spite of what the greedy idiots in power say, doing whatever little bits and pieces they can to try to protect what they care about. Millions of people are planting milkweed and pulling out invasive weeds and picking up trash. Millions of people are remembering to bring (and even make) their own shopping bags and refusing plastic and recycling what can be recycled, and no, it's not enough, not yet, but you can't give up because it's still the right thing to do and at least—thank goodness—you are not alone.
melting snow + rusted gutter = icicle cascade
Imagine the view from inside that window!
Snowman – Cold = Puddle by Laura Purdie Salas is a clever combination of poetry, math, and science. Spring equation poems, poetic informative explanations, and lively collage illustrations by Micha Archer make this book a joy to discover and reread. I was inspired to write a few equation poems of my own, including the one above. I'm limited to one photo per post, so I can't show you the cover, but do look for the book—it's delightful.
I've been trying to walk the dog outside as much as possible between unbearable weather events. We both need it! Here's a haiku from yesterday's icy walk:
sunlit snowbanks sparkle
frozen camera balks
battery exhausted
This year for the first time, I'll be one of 64 authletes taking part in the Madness Poetry Tournament, in which a word is assigned to be included in each poem. To warm up, I've been writing short poems that include a random word that pops into my head. Here's one from this morning, based on ascertain:
Dog Walk Intermission
While the dog sniffs a snowbank,
I try to ascertain
where the cardinal is tweeting
its lonely refrain.
Polls open March 5th for Round 1. Please stop by, read the poems, and vote!
Monday is my favorite date of the year, March 4th. For me, it's the beginning of spring—a chance to take stock, clear out clutter, and start fresh. I'll be celebrating all day. In fact, I've already started. Join me, won't you? March forth!
Linda has today's Poetry Friday Roundup and an ingenious spring anagram poem at TeacherDance. Enjoy!
My doctor says I need more exercise.
Cholesterol, you know... heredity....
Begrudgingly, I strap my snowshoes on
to trudge beside a frozen riverbank
with traffic roaring on my other side
and robins cheering me from overhead.
I stop to catch my breath above the spot
where freeway runoff keeps a channel clear
and beavers built their lodge across the way.
Beside the aging concrete ledge, I see
a wide, flat tail extended on the ice.
I hold my breath and watch the beaver chew.
Thin saplings rustle when it rounds the bend.
My doctor says I need more exercise.
So this is my prescription?
Lucky me!
Laura Purdie Salas has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at Writing the World for Kids. Enjoy!
How to Ungrump Yourself
Are you overwhelmed by news?
Is it giving you the blues?
Here's a tip that you might use:
Read some poetry.
If you wake up feeling grumpy
'cause the road ahead looks bumpy,
don't you fidget. Don't get jumpy.
Read some poetry.
If you feel like you could cry
(even if you don't know why),
I say give it one good try.
Read some poetry.
Though there is no guarantee,
poetry could be the key.
It worked well today for me.
Read some poetry!
Oh, what a week! Between the Polar Vortex, family health questions, and people doing heartless things, it's a wonder anyone stays positive these days. I reached my limit this morning, and something made me stop, take a break, and go back to look at last week's Poetry Friday posts, which I had missed.
Gorgeous language! Perfect metaphors! Helpful explanations! My whole day—my whole outlook—turned around. Next time I feel myself slipping into Grump Mode, I will try to remember to do that again. What a gift this Poetry Friday community is! Thank you to everyone involved!
Tabatha Yeatts has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at The Opposite of Indifference. If you haven't checked it out yet, here's your chance!
A helpful commenter on last week's post (scroll down to read it) suggested writing list poems as a way to get back into writing after drifting away for a while. So I tried a few. Here are three new ones from this week.
Oh, notebook, my confidante,
I've missed the comforting opaqueness of your cover,
the predictable curve of your spiral,
your straightforward guiding lines,
the way you keep my secrets,
and how they whisper to me as your pages turn.
On Mom's Windowsill
orchids whose flower stalks stretch toward glass
Christmas cactus, hopefully budded
plump aloe with companion stained glass dragonfly
chick in Easter basket, dancing to sunshine
reminder to staff: Always use gait belt for transfers!
chair alarm, flashing to show that the battery works,
labeled "wireless fall management"
as if it could maintain her balance
or temper her urge to get up and go somewhere—
like home,
if she could just remember how to get there
What She Remembers
She remembers the lyrics to songs she sang decades ago.
She remembers the punchlines to jokes she repeats with a smirk.
She remembers to put on her long, double-strand
pearly necklace.
She remembers how to apply her red lipstick
without a glance in a mirror.
She remembers a day with our dad in a field by the water.
She remembers my face, though she's not always sure who I am,
and I don't have the heart to remind her because
I am struggling with memories of my own.
Kathryn Apel has today's Poetry Friday Roundup. Enjoy!
daylight lengthening
minute reasons to rejoice
winter's turning point
next door cat follows
squirrel between our houses
window to window
singing overhead
sunlit branches block my view
hope for a robin
I never intend to stop writing every day, but when I fall out of the habit, I sometimes find it easier to slide back into haiku--not because they are short but because using the traditional 5-7-5 form gives me a structure to hang my words on. What works for you?
Sylvia Vardell has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at Poetry for Children. Enjoy!
just a dusting
of powdery snow is enough
to give us a vision
of peace on Earth
here in this moment
a brief belief
that anything's possible
even a miracle
everyone listen
it's up to each one of us
so be the hope
hold back the darkness
be steadfast and bright
be the light
Temporary Statement
Does the notion of permanent ink bother you?
Here's a solution: tattoo your shoe!
A peace sign, a T-Rex, a blue mynah bird,
a rosebud, a shipwreck, your favorite word,
the name of your loved one, a thought so profound
you might have to keep it and kick it around.
And if, sometime later, you think something new,
simply inscribe that on your other shoe.
Tattoos are intended to stay and stay.
If you tire of your shoes, you can throw them away.
So if you have doubts (and I'm guessing you do),
make a short-term commitment: a shoe tattoo!
Laura Shovan has today's Poetry Friday Roundup. Enjoy!
I rarely write for adults, but recent political events have provoked me to pick up my pen. In November, Wisconsin voters elected a Democratic Governor, Lieutenant Governor, Attorney General, and Treasurer. Then, in an all-night lame duck session, the Republican-controlled legislature passed an unprecedented power grab, as detailed in this Milwaukee Journal Sentinel article. You can also read about it in the New York Times (scroll down to see my husband and me—with my sister and brother-in-law behind us—in the photo of the gallery just before they cleared it). Yes, Wisconsin is getting national attention, none of it good. And we are not alone. Similar power grabs are in process in Michigan and North Carolina.
Despite winning all four statewide elections, Democrats in the state Senate and Assembly remain outnumbered—thanks to gerrymandered districts that maintain the current party's hold on power. We await the Supreme Court's decision. Here's my take on the sorry situation:
The Power of the Map
by JoAnn Early Macken
If you're a savvy politician
with a race to win,
sophisticated software is
the best way to begin.
Divvy up your districts so
your rivals always lose,
and then it really doesn't matter
whom the voters choose.
If you don't like the odds, just rig them
by redistricting.
No wave or wall can overcome
gerrymandering.
After working to register voters and get out the vote, we spent two days in the Capitol in Madison watching the shameful events unfold. Now, unless the outgoing Republican governor vetoes the legislation, we will see our taxes go to law firms while the whole mess is tied up in legal battles instead of funding education, infrastructure, environmental issues, and a raft of other problems that desperately need attention. It's heartbreaking. But we've done what we can—for now.
I'm returning to my Work In Progress, a collection of humorous middle grade poems, and my sewing project with Bring Your Bag Shorewood, making Boomerang Bags reusable shopping bags for people to borrow when they forget to bring their own. Wish me luck!
Elizabeth Steinglass has today's Poetry Friday Roundup. Enjoy!
Scrounging Around
I'm a brown field mouse,
and I live outside your house.
From my burrow underground,
I can scurry all around,
finding everything I need.
I flourish on the seed
that falls from your feeders.
Birds are very messy eaters.
We try to remember our feathery and furry friends with extra treats when the temperature drops like it has around here lately. It's a pleasure to watch the birds on the feeders and the creatures that clean up around them. I hope you find a moment to stop and look, too.
Happy Poetry Friday! Irene has today's Roundup at Live Your Poem! Enjoy!
The Poem I Threw Away
Chickens are chuckling. Cows guffaw.
Donkeys hee-haw and bray.
What are the animals laughing about?
A poem I threw away.
A goat pulled it from the recycling.
Now horses rear up and neigh
as a rooster reads aloud to the crowd
the poem I threw away.
So don't you give up too quickly.
Ruminate for another day.
Someone might find hilarious
the poem you throw away.
I've been working on a collection of silly middle grade poems, many of which got their start on this blog last April for National Poetry Month. As I dig way down into old computer files and notebooks, I sometimes unearth a draft I still like. This is one from summer (ohh...summer!) that doesn't fit the theme of the collection. I'm posting it because I need pep talks from time to time. Maybe you do, too.
Linda has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at TeacherDance. Enjoy!
Walking
Fresh paper,
new pen,
same old thoughts
again.
Though I'd like
to hide,
I'm heading
outside.
I listen
for birds.
New thoughts form
new words.
Cold snow in
my face.
Those words start
to race.
Keep walking.
Get clear.
The rhythm
I hear
and feel in
my feet—
that regular
beat—
turns into
a poem
before I'm
back hoem.
Fresh paper,
new pen—
inspired
again.
Today's walk in the first snow of the winter was a surprise even though we had seen it in the forecast. Rosy had to fetch her flying disk instead of the whistling ball she chased all summer. She made the switch like a champ.
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Today's Little Ditty. Enjoy!
Thanks to our thoughtful husbands, my twin sister Judy and I got to celebrate our birthday together last month. We all ate dinner at a fabulous vegan restaurant in Boston, walked along the coast in Maine, and went leaf peeping in New Hampshire. We had a wonderful time, and then we were glad to be home again.
Here's a poem I wrote for travelers and for those who wait for travelers to return.
Travel Prayer
Let those who travel have an easy flight
and chat with pleasant strangers on the way.
Let those who stay behind not feel bereft
but find some helpful task to fill each day,
to occupy their hands, their thoughts, their hearts,
not miss too terribly the ones who left.
While those who were together are apart,
let those who travel, travel without fear
and find their journeys worth the efforts made.
Let those who stay at home wait unafraid
and carry on with grace and hopeful cheer
until at last all loved ones reunite.
JoAnn Early Macken
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Jama's Alphabet Soup. Enjoy! And if you haven't voted yet, please vote. If you've already voted, please help someone else vote. Our democracy depends on it!
Last week's poem for two voices seemed unfinished--I hated to leave poor Blackboard and Chalk awaiting what might be a terrible fate! (Scroll down to read it if you haven't yet!) So here's some more of their story.
The voice of the blackboard is in the left column; the voice of the chalk is in the right column. Read from top to bottom, alternating voices as needed. When both columns contain text, read them together.
This week's Poetry Friday Roundup is at A Journey Through the Pages. Enjoy!
Author/illustrator Calef Brown posed a challenge on Michelle Heidenrich Barnes's Today's Little Ditty blog: Write a poem or a story about two anthropomorphized objects. Here's mine!
The voice of the blackboard is in the left column; the voice of the chalk is in the right column. Read from top to bottom, alternating voices as needed. When both columns contain text, read them together.
Today's Poetry Friday roundup is at Friendly Fairy Tales. Enjoy!
I planted potatoes and parsley and peppers,
pumpkins and parsnips and peas.
I said to the soil, "Take good care of these seeds."
I asked the clouds to please
let down a soft rain from time to time
and the wind to slow down to a breeze.
Then all of a sudden, the wind picked up,
and it blew all my seeds away.
Somebody else's seeds blew in,
so my garden still turned out okay.
Now I eat cucumbers, corn, cauliflower,
carrots, and cabbage all day.
Tabatha Yeatts has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at The Opposite of Indifference. Enjoy!
frilly halos rim
delicate cone-shaped blossoms
fringe of tiny bees
mosquito seeking heat
lands to check out coffee mug
neighbor's AC hums
wren's morning circuit
clothes line, fence post, lilac branch
warble at each stop
can't ignore the crow
even when it's out of sight
ruckus in the tree
monarch leaves an egg
on one life-sustaining leaf
of each milkweed plant
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at The Miss Rumphius Effect. Enjoy!
Upgrading the Garden
I just dug up a clump of
overcrowded pulmonaria.
Too many plants were growing in
a tiny little area.
I'll split them up and trade some
with my neighbors. I have nary a
foxglove, hollyhock, ajuga,
phlox, or cineraria.
I can throw in milkweed
or monarda. Time to vary a
bit what grows here every year.
Got any Alstroemeria?
Karen Edmisten has today's Poetry Friday Roundup . Enjoy!
Springing Eternal
I potted impatiens to put on the porch.
They are doomed. I never take care of 'em.
Plus everything there's a temptation to squirrels,
and we've got a root-chewing pair of 'em,
along with the spider mites weaving their webs—
destructive and messy—beware of 'em.
This year's will be different, I swear of 'em.
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Buffy's Blog. Enjoy!
I had to go buy a new computer yesterday (Coffee! Keyboard!), so I put blinders on and ignored my notebook all day even though I could hear it calling me. But before I went to sleep, I read some poems from Naomi Shihab Nye's Voices in the Air: Poems for Listeners, and a quote in her poem "Tomorrow" stuck with me: "All that is truly ours now is the day that is beginning." This morning, I woke up and started writing before I got out of bed.
The good thing about today is that
it gives me another chance
to laugh
to leap
to sing
to play
to work
to pray
to dance.
I make this promise to myself
each day that I’m lucky to live:
I’ll take the opportunity
to help
to hope
to fight
for right
to lift
to love
to give.
Happy Poetry Friday! Brenda has today's Roundup at Friendly Fairy Tales. Enjoy!
Read More
Today is the day that spring flies north.
That’s what the forecasters say.
I think I will lie right down in the grass
and watch the sky all day.
Our feeders are filled. We’ve put oranges out
for the favorites we see every year.
Orioles, grosbeaks, indigo buntings,
and warblers are on their way here!
Hummingbirds, tanagers, kinglets and wrens—
I’ve got nothing better to do
than to lie outside in the grass and watch.
Come out and join me, won’t you?
Poetry has sustained me through this wintry National Poetry Month, but I’m always happy to welcome May with its migrating birds and bursting blooms. This year’s poem-a-day exercise has taught me good lessons about my voice and writing habits. I’m really glad I was able to stick to my plan and write something new every day. I hope to continue that practice, although I don’t expect to post every day.
I'm giving away a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step every day in April. Today is the last giveaway of the month! The book is based on my school visit presentations and includes a simple plan you can follow to create your own poems. I wrote it for students, teachers, and writers of all ages.
Post a comment here to enter. I'll choose one at random tomorrow and drop a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step in the mail—U.S. addresses only, please. I’ll email you for your mailing address if you win. Good luck!
Yesterday, we walked around a lagoon in the park, and I posted a silly haiku about my photography skills. (Yes, that's my thumb again in the photo above.) What I wanted to say was something about the flashes of red in the not-yet-spring landscape. Alas, it still eludes me. Here's what came out instead:
too much to say
in three short lines
make it a tanka
making words fit
I lose the logic
try another draft
haiku on haiku
no nature in these lines
look out the window
which matters more
the form or the meaning
neither
both
let go
I'm giving away a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step every day in April. The book is based on my school visit presentations and includes a simple plan you can follow to create your own poems. I wrote it for students, teachers, and writers of all ages.
Post a comment here to enter. I'll choose one at random tomorrow and drop a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step in the mail—U.S. addresses only, please. I’ll email you for your mailing address if you win. And if you don't win right away, please try again. I'll have 31 copies to share!
birds, flowers, landscapes
all my photos look alike
thumb in a corner
I got a star for my birthday.
My grandparents bought it online.
It came with complete care instructions.
I think we will get along fine.
Its name is all letters and numbers
of the most scientific sort.
I thought my star might like a nickname,
so I call it Seven for short.
Whenever I’m out in the evening,
I look for my star in the sky.
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it,
but it’s surely worth a good try.
Sometimes, late at night, I imagine
my star’s up there thinking of me.
I wonder, from up in the atmosphere,
What on Earth can it see?
I got a star for my birthday
with all the proof I’ll ever need
on this official print-it-yourself
frameable title and deed!
I'm sorry to say that according to NASA, it's not actually possible to buy a star and name it. Phooey!
I'm giving away a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step every day in April. The book is based on my school visit presentations and includes a simple plan you can follow to create your own poems. I wrote it for students, teachers, and writers of all ages.
Post a comment here to enter. I'll choose one at random tomorrow and drop a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step in the mail—U.S. addresses only, please. I’ll email you for your mailing address if you win. And if you don't win right away, please try again. I'll have 31 copies to share!
Irene has today's Poetry Friday Roundup at Live Your Poem. Enjoy! Read More
I have something in my pocket.
It’s a poem I can say.
I know all the lines by heart.
I like to read it anyway.
Do you have a poem to show me?
We can share our poems. Okay?
You read mine, and I’ll read yours
on Poem in Your Pocket Day!
I'm giving away a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step every day in April. The book is based on my school visit presentations and includes a simple plan you can follow to create your own poems. I wrote it for students, teachers, and writers of all ages.
Post a comment here to enter. I'll choose one at random tomorrow and drop a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step in the mail—U.S. addresses only, please. I’ll email you for your mailing address if you win. And if you don't win right away, please try again. I'll have 31 copies to share! Read More
I had so much fun yesterday with my dog-training limerick that I decided to work on getting sillier today. In that early-morning daze that’s my most creative writing time, I thought about other animals and more goofy stunts:
I’m teaching my camel to wink.
It’s trickier than you might think.
She is painfully shy—
won’t look me in the eye—
but sooner or later, she’ll blink.
I’m teaching my penguin to sing.
He keeps hiding his head in his wing.
He hasn’t sung yet.
When he does, you can bet
it will be a remarkable thing.
I’m teaching my zebra to sneeze.
He’s very determined to please.
He is such a good sport
that he’ll shiver and snort,
and he’ll sputter and sniffle and wheeze.
I’m teaching my turtle to fly,
and here is the main reason why:
It’s not easily done,
but I think she’d have fun,
so I wish she would give it a try.
Why don’t you give it a try? An animal with a two-syllable name and the stress on the first syllable fits into the rhythm well. Here are some more options:
• muskrat
• eagle
• wombat
• walrus
• beaver
• groundhog
• peacock
• lizard
• bison
Remember that lines 1, 2, and 5 have three beats and rhyme, and lines 3 and 4 have two beats and rhyme. Maybe you can come up with a silly animal trick to teach, too!
I'm giving away a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step every day in April. The book is based on my school visit presentations and includes a simple plan you can follow to create your own poems. I wrote it for students, teachers, and writers of all ages.
Post a comment here to enter. I'll choose one at random tomorrow and drop a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step in the mail—U.S. addresses only, please. I’ll email you for your mailing address if you win. And if you don't win right away, please try again. I'll have 31 copies to share.
I’m teaching my dog to do tricks.
She was born knowing how to fetch sticks.
She learned how to shake
when she jumped in the lake,
so we just have some details to fix.
“Roll over,” I say. She holds still.
Sooner or later, she will
follow my lead
to get up to speed,
but I’m dizzy from rolling downhill.
She knows what I’m saying, it’s clear.
She sits when I tell her, “Come here.”
When I tell her to stay,
she runs right away,
but we’ve only been training a year.
So far this month, I’ve written a new poem each morning and posted it that day. I’m not always completely satisfied with the results. This one needs more attention, but I’m out of time for today, so I’ll have to get back to it later.
I'm giving away a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step every day in April. The book is based on my school visit presentations and includes a simple plan you can follow to create your own poems. I wrote it for students, teachers, and writers of all ages.
Post a comment here to enter. I'll choose one at random tomorrow and drop a copy of Write a Poem Step by Step in the mail—U.S. addresses only, please. I’ll email you for your mailing address if you win. And if you don't win right away, please check back again. I'll have 31 copies to share!
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