I used to write poetry all the time but for some reason I just haven’t lately. Last week when my mind was wondering I thought of something and wrote it down. It was just a thought but could possibly grow into a poem. A few days later it happened again and I realized that this actually happens a lot and I just never remember them. I got a little journal for jotting down these little poetic seeds. I think if I just put a little time into it I could come up with something good but I just don’t ever sit down to write anymore. So I just started a new blog that will be for this call Poetreehouse. I have only written one poem there but there will be many more to come. I wrote that poem about my little maple tree in my front yard that is bright red and orange.
I am thinking of adding a few others to the site so if anyone else likes to write please let me know. Don’t think you’re not good enough. This is just a fun thing – an exercise of the brain.
Please check out the site and let me know what you think.
This is a great poem. I wish I knew who wrote it!
He was just a little boy,
On a week’s first day.
Wandering home from Bible school,
And dawdling on the way.
He scuffed his shoes into the grass;
He even found a caterpillar.
He found a fluffy milkweed pod,
And blew out all the ‘filler.’
A bird’s nest in a tree overhead,
So wisely placed up so high.
Was just another wonder,
That caught his eager eye.
A neighbor watched his zig zag course,
And hailed him from the lawn;
Asked him where he’d been that day
And what was going on.
‘I’ve been to Bible School,’
He said and turned a piece of sod.
He picked up a wiggly worm replying,
‘I’ve learned a lot about God.’
‘M’m very fine way,’ the neighbor said,
‘for a boy to spend his time.’
‘If you’ll tell me where God is,
I’ll give you a brand new dime.’
Quick as a flash the answer came!
Nor were his accents faint.
‘I’ll give you a dollar, Mister,
If you can tell me where God ain’t.’
I’ve been thinking for a long while about a poem for Valentine’s Day. I started…….and then deleted several times. Just imagine how many trees I saved by using the computer? Before computers I would have balls of paper all over the floor.
Here is my tree-saving Valentine’s Day poem. It’s called Remember When?
Have you ever found yourself lying in bed unable to sleep with words rattling around in your head…. only, those words don’t quite work. They can’t quit make the page. I keep a pad of paper by my bed because occasionally they do and I’ll write something I am really proud of. That is usually how they find me. Yeah, THEY find ME. I don’t write poems, they write me.
Here is my latest poem, ironically, about the process itself.
It is called Birth of a Poem
“My mother is a poem I’ll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother.”