Monday, March 25, 2013

Monday Poetry Stretch - The Unexpected

Today is March 25th and we had a snow day in Richmond, VA. Talk about unexpected! I am so ready for spring. This is the second Monday in a row that we've had snow. My son was thrilled about this turn of events, me not so much.

How about we write about the unexpected this week? The unexpected event, turn of a phrase, ending to a book or movie, etc. What have you found lately that was unexpected? Leave me a note about your poem and I'll share the results in time for Poetry Friday.



    A frosted blanket snuggles
    Our neighborhood. School's
    closed (again). I head outside,
    filled with Mom's homemade
    raison biscuits, to start shoveling
    our driveway (again), when I see
    A Red-Breasted Nutthatch;
    All white cheeked, blue-grey and
    Cinnamon coated, sitting on a
    wooded stump opposite our barbed
    wire fence. I run inside, grab some
    peanuts, put them in a jelly jar,
    rush back out and place them
    against the backstop, figuring
    he hasn't had his breakfast yet.

    (C) Charles Waters 2013 all rights reserved.

  2. Spring Rain

    Deaf to raindrops peppering the water,
    Two herons laser onto tadpole snacks.
    Tadpoles glimpse the submarine (an otter),
    Sublimely unaware of air attacks.

    A thunderstorm is manna to the river.
    Ambling cows have felt it all before.
    “Hear the pitter-pattering?” says the beaver.
    Her kittens bicker on a hickory floor.

    A doubtful owl opens one eye. His ruling
    On water’s felonies: disturbing sleep.
    Grateful snails and slugs begin refueling.
    A log-lorn frog finally decides to leap.

    Watching the stirring world becomes the humbling,
    Magnificent event it’s always been.
    Dazzled, I wonder what’s the point in fumbling
    With my umbrella. I’ve come home again.

    (C) J.Patrick Lewis 2013.

  3. First Weekend: Montauk

    If we are quiet, you said,
    sea wind tangling your hair,
    we may see a deer. So I held
    my heart silent in my mouth
    so that the deer, its white tail
    semaphoring as it leaped the dune,
    could tell me what I already knew
    about you, about us, about the future
    lying forty-six years before us
    as we leaped over
    that first awkward weekend
    into the rest of our lives.

    ©2013 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

  4. A Poem

    A poem can call you when it’s dusk,
    can soothe you with a lullaby,
    can bring you water, smooth your sheets,
    goodnight you like a firefly.

    A poem can write a simple note
    to offer lilac metaphors,
    invite you like a maiden aunt
    who proffers plates of petit fours.

    A poem can pull you down a path
    where shadows tremble trees,
    can kiss you till you’re someone else
    whose hair is made of breeze.

    A poem can sing you,
    hold you, sting you,
    gold you, catch you,
    reach, unlatch you,
    teach and kind you,
    roam and find you.
    Home you—all of this
    is what a poem can do.

    —Kate Coombs, 2013
    all rights reserved

  5. Inspiring poems this week!

    Mr. Buckland’s Bones

    At Stonesfield, north of Oxfordshire,
    A giant lizard’s bone
    I dug up from the earth, entire,
    And kept it for my own.

    A curious and ancient prize,
    No forgery or fake,
    Immense, reptilian, fossilized,
    Though like no living snake.

    My monster must have had a jaw
    As wide as Devon Gate,
    I trembled at its teeth, in awe,
    But feared I was too late

    To flay and roast it by the pound
    Above my cooking fire,
    That long-dead beastie I had found
    Just north of Oxfordshire.

    --Steven Withrow, 2013, all rights reserved
    Inspired by the unexpected life of William Buckland

  6. People, your four beautiful poems make me ask "Where have I been all these Mondays?" Goodness--time to get back and join the workout!