posting poetic prose
17 Jun 2019 14 Comments
in quadrille, Uncategorized Tags: child, cousins, fret, grandma, lesson, tantrum
little buddy red-
faced, setting the stage
to fly into kicking and sweating rage
wiser granny said-
stop your fretting, my child
there’s no use getting unruly riled
now go to bed-
buddy, until lesson you learn
to let kissing cousins have a turn!
Quadrille (44-word poem) including the word “fret”… with Kim at dVerse Poets
25 Jul 2018 1 Comment
in tanka Tags: attic, bouquet, dresser, grandma, lily of valley, vase
exploring attic
reclaim grandma’s old dresser
drawers of mementos
from her youthful adventures
lily of valley bouquet
05 Jun 2018 5 Comments
in senryu, tanka Tags: birthday, cake, century, grandma, heaven, party
hoped to celebrate
grandma’s one hundredth birthday
but she passed away…
left us behind with no cake
she’s partying in heaven!
Elsie’s 100th tanka challenge at Ramblings of a Writer. My dear Grandma Gertie nearly reached 100 years…can you imagine living for a century?
27 Mar 2014 14 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: boy, grandma, grandpa, lincoln
energetic blond boy invades our home
it’s so much fun the second time around
he dumps out all the legos on the floor
then drives his toy backhoe across the couch
he brings grandma another book to read
next climbs in grandpa’s lap to eat popcorn
his uncles he adores; follows footsteps
pulls on his boots (wrong feet) to go outdoors
he likes to chase the cats or moo at cows
he’s happy when he’s playing in the dirt
by day’s end we’re all ready for our beds
he reaches out to hug our necks goodnight!
_________
*”blank verse” (no rhyme) written in iambic pentameter (see MTB with Tony at d’Verse)
13 Mar 2013 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: grandma
I think I must be younger than I am;
Still looking for a mirror that’s wrinkle free.
Hey, only special peeps may call me Gram.
I really do not need the “senior discount” plan,
Send back those letters from A.A.R.P.!
I think I must be younger than I am.
Adults who call me Grandma? I take it “like a man”
but wonder whether they can count to three!
‘Cuz only special peeps may call me Gram.
Kids fill the house with music; it’s time for us to jam.
Can chaos and commotion inspire poetry?
I think I must be younger than I am.
Blond boy and baby girl, sweetest members of our fam,
Come snuggle in my arms or re-read books across my knee.
Yes, only special peeps may call me Gram.
So many birthday candles? I just cannot understand.
My truest friends are winking because they all agree,
I really must be younger than I am,
And only special peeps may call me Gram!
