Poetry Stretch Results - Poems of Work

The challenge this week was to write poems about work or particular profession. Here are the results.

Jane Yolen left this poem in the comments.

The Best-Selling Author

Getcha red hot metaphors here,
Your poetry stretches line by line.
Yes, you can handle the similes
I think you’ll find they’re rather fine.
Alliteration always sells,
Even in recessions,
But slant rhymes are another kettle
Of fish, of flesh, of fissions.
I’ve got some second-hand paragraphs,
Some small, used punctuations
Suitable for a senior prom
And for most graduations.

And pssst, if you will come back here,
You’ll find that you’re in luck.
I’ve got some first class sentences
That just fell off the truck.

c 2009 Jane Yolen, all rights reserved

Laura of Author Amok also left a poem in the comments.

STORY LADY

Mom drags me to the bookstore every Saturday.
I grump and groan,
complain and moan,
“Can’t I stay home and play?”

She puts her yellow apron on,
with its shiny flowers.
“Make yourself comfy,” she says. “We’ll be here a few hours.”

I straighten the tiara that sparkles on her hair
So she can be Queen Barbara Jean -- Story Lady Extraordinaire.

When we go in the bookstore, kids rush up and hug her.
They shout, “Story Lady! Barbara Jean!” acting like they love her.

Mom stands on a small platform and takes out her guitar.
Kids smoosh and squish to sit in front, as if my mom’s a star.

Mom sings about a car. The audience goes, “Vroom!”
They honk like horns. They beep and laugh. Those kids shout, “Crash!” and “Boom!”

Then Mom puts on her glasses. She opens a big book.
Thirty kids lean toward her, trying to get a look.

I sit in the back and yawn. I’ve heard this book before.
Mom must have read it 50 times to kids at this bookstore.

When we’re home alone tonight, we’ll have a cup of tea
And Mom will read a special book to no one else but me.

We’ll hold the book on our laps, so no one blocks my view.
And Mom will say, “You’re my best audience. This book is just for you.”

Laura Purdie Salas left this poem in the comments.

Old Yeller

I’m right-on-time dependable.
I rarely whine or fuss.
I get them to their school on time
But they’re not happy. Plus
They sometimes—oops—have accidents,
Or spill their lunch, or cuss!
They hate to see me pulling up—
It sucks to be the bus.

--Laura Purdie Salas, all rights reserved

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater left this poem in the comments.

Snowflake Designer

She’s quick.
She’s careful.
She makes no mistakes.

She’s cool.
She’s quiet.
She does what it takes.

Each winter
she sketches
she measures
she makes
flakes
    and flakes
        and flakes
            and flakes.

(If she finds a double
she takes it and breaks it.)

Here's what I'm offering up this week. Please forgive the little conceit at the end! (I just couldn't figure out how to wrap this one up. Once that line stuck in my head, I was sunk.)

My Job (24/7)

Hand holder
Clothes folder

Costume maker
Cookie baker

Meal feeder
Troop leader

Chauffer driver
High fiver

First teacher
Top-shelf reacher

Back rubber
Face scrubber

Tear wiper
Pied piper

Leaf raker
Morning waker

Shoe lacer
Go-kart racer

Hurt healer
Kiss stealer

Secret keeper
Ice cream heaper

Party thrower
Answer knower

Book reader
Dream seeder

    Tired mom
    Who's the bomb?

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.