The challenge this week was to write in the acrostic form. Here are the results.
Jane Yolen left this poem in the comments.
Victim look up.
Under a low and
Lowering sky, the undertaker comes
To carry your particulars
Up to a bleak, black heaven.
Read the set of wings, cruel beak, hooded eyes. This is no
Easing into eternity but a short, sharp shock
© 2009 Jane YolenJulie Larios from The Drift Record left this poem in the comments.
GreenTess from Written for Children left this poem in the comments.
Squash and tomatoes
Up, white clematis vining, cherries done,
Me down on my knees
Minding the weeds.
Each year, I hear their green
All around. And by the time I stand
Up again, another season’s come
To nudge me along. There, in the back yard,
Under the bare maple I see
Myself on my knees again, and next to me
Narcissus bulbs – named Polar Ice -
Waiting for their dark dirt.
I turn, I turn, the year turns with me.
Now it’s time for the person I am
To go inside, out of the snow, tuck
Everyone I love into bed,
Read them stories. What could be
Simpler or warmer? Later, I see someone
Putting small seeds in their trays.
Rain does its job, too, and the sun comes.
I hear the year’s green complications.
Now, the season whispers, go ahead.
Go ahead. Grow.
Senses have their own symptoms.Tiel Aisha Ansari from Knocking From Inside shares a poem entitled Azan.
You may experience or
A sense perception that switches.
Senses that are
Tactile such as your
hand, you may just hear it.
Slide sideways suddenly
Into intuitive structures,into
Almost anything -- your salted lip!
Laura Purdie Salas shares two acrostic poems!
Dianne White shares a yummy poem entitled Pizza Patch.
Jone from Check It Out shares a poem inspired by her trip to Disneyland.
Elaine from Wild Rose Reader shares an acrostic for Tortoise, as well as some reviews of Fables in Verse.
Diane left this poem in the comments.
After a Month of Rain
each day's forecast
chance of showers, tomorrow
expected with 60% chance of
I've spent every day this week immersed in conversations about the teaching of math and science for middle school kids. With my brain swimming in numbers and theories, poetry has not come easily. Here is one of the poems I scribbled and scratched in the margins of my notes.
Phrases imperfect, imprecise
Ordered and reordered
Turned and twisted end over end
It's not too late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll add it to the list.