Poetry Stretch Results - Eggs

The challenge this week was to write a poem about eggs. Here are the results.

From NESTING DOVES
A manuscript in progress by Steven Withrow

MIRACLE EMERGES

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


AFTER RAIN WE MAKE REPAIRS

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


INCUBATING

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


DREAM OF EGG

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

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


HATCHING

Shell shakes
A crack
Appears

The first
Thin break
Of beak

Displays
A face


Sun
by Kate Coombs of Book Aunt

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


Tiel Aisha Ansari of Knocking From Inside shares a poem entitled Break Me My Bounds.


Envelope Keeper
by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater of The Poem Farm

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

© Amy Ludwig VanDerwater


Thoughts from Inside
by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater of The Poem Farm

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
4/26/2010 7:01 PM

Elaine Magliaro of Wild Rose Reader shares a poem entitled Chick Chatter.


Humpty
by Jane Yolen

Humpty Dumpty
was not
eggs-actly
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
am
I.

© Jane Yolen, all rights reserved


Diane Mayr of Random Noodling shares a tanka.


Jone of Deo Writer shares a found poem.


Humpty Dumpty Wonders
by Nicole Marie Schreiber

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!
Noooooooo!
Splat!

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


Piping Plover
by Liz

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

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.