Monday, April 26, 2010

Monday Poetry Stretch - Eggs

I've been wondering and thinking about eggs lately. In March I watched eagle eggs hatch and have been following the growing eaglets/fledglings at Eagle Cam. Just this weekend I made some heavenly dishes that all required eggs, including French Toast, cookies, a frittata and more. My sister is coming to visit and she hates eggs, so, I'm wondering what I should serve for breakfast. Sara Lewis Holmes once wrote a poem entitled I cannot that began "Do not fear the poaching of an egg." I hear that line every time I crack an egg.

See? I have EGGS on the brain! So let's write about cooking with eggs, or hatching an egg, or the egg as a metaphor, or ... anything at all relating to egg(s)!

Leave me a note about your poem and I'll post the results here later this week.


  1. From NESTING DOVES, a manuscript in progress, by Steven Withrow


    While Father is away
    Foraging it happens

    While Mother is asleep
    Dreaming of her new nest

    Miracle emerges
    In the shape of a stone

    White as any feather
    And rounder than a bone


    Patch of dirt, dollop of mud
    A stitch of pitch-black gravel
    A gummy glop of pine sap
    Where the stick-ends unravel

    Dewy grass for new-made bed
    Touch of dandelion head
    Patch of dirt, dollop of mud
    Turns the nest to well and good


    We live brief lives
    But sitting still
    Warming our egg
    Warming our egg

    We live brief lives
    But sharing this
    Extends our time
    Extends our time


    World is round
    Sky is ground
    Night is white
    Light is sound

    Sun is full
    Moon is pale
    World is wet
    Bird is whale


    Shell shakes
    A crack

    The first
    Thin break
    Of beak

    A face

  2. Sun

    The sun sits on top
    of the morning like a fried egg
    on a bowl of bi bim bop
    with its spring greens.
    What a yellow, yellow yolk
    for breakfast today!

    --Kate Coombs, 2010, all rights reserved

  3. This poem actually dates from February... Break Me My Bounds

  4. This is a poem from my files, but I will work on another eggy-poem with your egg-hating sister in mind! (My husband just made wild leek and fiddle head omelets for dinner last night...yum!)

    Envelope Keeper

    I can't reveal its secret
    even if you beg.
    This little note tells
    which came first

    © Amy Ludwig VanDerwater

  5. We have chickens here, and roosters too. So if we don't get to those eggs quickly enough, and if the hens are broody, some could turn into chicks. I am wondering if your sister will be completely grossed out by that, for I can be if I think about it too long...

    Thoughts from Inside

    I'm one day old. It's warm in here.
    Sitting is my mom's career.

    It takes three weeks for every batch.
    Once we're big enough we hatch.

    But some of us will never grow.
    Who will live? It's hard to know.

    I'm not sure how I should feel.
    Am I a chick or just a meal?

    © Amy Ludwig VanDerwater

  6. Tricia,

    Here's an animal mask poem I wrote that Jama posted as one of the poems in her Poetry Potluck Series. It's about a chick that's trying to hatch out of its shell:


    I’m pecking, pecking
    On this dome.
    I’m cramped inside
    My little home.
    Can’t spread my wings,
    Can’t run…or walk.
    Can’t see the sun.
    Can barely talk!
    Oh, I’ve been pecking
    Since last night.
    This shell is really
    REALLY tight!
    I just can’t stand it
    Oh where? Oh, where
    Is my front door?!

  7. This is an old poem of mine:


    Humpty Dumpty
    was not
    your average
    kind of a guy.

    A wee bit
    cracked, he
    sat on a wall
    and watched
    the world
    go by.

    A poet?
    A dreamer?
    A teller of tales?
    He was.
    And so

    © Jane Yolen, all rights reserved

  8. Still honing my tanka skills:

    from the window
    the jay's yolk-covered beak
    all too visible
    I've picked up shells before
    ...without knowing

    Thanks for all the Poetry Makers interviews, Tricia--it's almost too much! ;-)

  9. The month has been amazing. We will all probably feel the let down!
    Here are my egg poems:

  10. Oh no! I came to post my poem today and noticed that Jane had already written one about Humpty Dumpty! Well, here is my attempt, as there is surely always room for another.

    Humpty Dumpty Wonders

    What am I doing up here?
    Sure, the view is nice,
    the breeze brisk
    against my smooth shell.
    I can even see all the way to the
    ocean from here,
    white caps and all.

    And yet, this wall is just so…so high.
    My brains must be scrambled
    to climb up this thing.
    But it’s the only way I can see
    into the window of the castle’s kitchen,
    and catch a glimpse
    of Cook’s egg basket
    lying on the window ledge.

    Which lovelies did she collect today?
    How I love the arcs of their oval shells,
    their differing shades of brown and tan,
    and their shapes!
    Some more bulbous than others,
    yet my heart sizzles for them all.

    If only I could be just a tad bit taller,
    as Cook has taken the basket away…
    Perhaps if I stepped upon this higher ledge
    I could gain a better view…
    Wait! My footing!

    Ah, to love.
    Perhaps it is not all
    it is cracked up to be.

  11. Piping Plover

    Streak of timid
    Flecked with brave
    Amid the sand and waves…
    You place your eggs
    Your hope – exposed
    And there is hope