Petite paws
heel, trot, stop
Fur long,
like a mop.
Tail held high,
pedigree.
Ears perked up,
Show Doggy.
Who is Coming for Dinner?
Gobble-gobble...
The farmer's acting quirky,
And a little bit jerky.
...gobble-gobble...
His wife is acting perky -
Her smile is very smirky.
...gobble-gobble...
I fear my future's murky...
I found out dinner's turkey!
...gobble-gobble...GULP!
Happy Thanksgiving?
Happy Thanksgiving?
After the Rain
tip toe
gutter flow
after the rain
soggy soil
strolling toil
after the rain
worms creep
wrens cheep
after the rain
breathe clean
future's green
after the rain
gutter flow
after the rain
soggy soil
strolling toil
after the rain
worms creep
wrens cheep
after the rain
breathe clean
future's green
after the rain
November is for Adoption, Too!
When the air chills
on November days,
we busy ourselves
in thankful ways.
During this month
another option
is celebrating
the joys of adoption.
on November days,
we busy ourselves
in thankful ways.
During this month
another option
is celebrating
the joys of adoption.
Seasonal Fallout
The
autumn trees
explode
with
color -
orange,
yellow, red.
The
fallout
flutters
and
floats
d
o
w
n
to
the ground.
I stomp,
fling
and
crunch
my
way
through
the
season -
until all
the leaves
take their
leave
and the
branches
are bare.
Mellow Man
He makes a point
to slow down.
He breathes deep
and looks around.
He stays alert
and aware,
keeps his life
real and rare.
But pressures
make it hard.
Inner peace
he must guard.
When he sleeps
and eats good food,
he becomes
a Zen dude.
to slow down.
He breathes deep
and looks around.
He stays alert
and aware,
keeps his life
real and rare.
But pressures
make it hard.
Inner peace
he must guard.
When he sleeps
and eats good food,
he becomes
a Zen dude.
Moving Day
Box after box
into the truck.
Last is the couch -
oh no, it's stuck!
Slide, stack, and wedge -
everything's in.
At the new house
unpacking begins.
into the truck.
Last is the couch -
oh no, it's stuck!
Slide, stack, and wedge -
everything's in.
At the new house
unpacking begins.
Bed Bouncing
I bounce
real high
when I try
to touch the sky
instead I cry
and scream, "why?"
because I
smacked my thigh.
*sigh*
real high
when I try
to touch the sky
instead I cry
and scream, "why?"
because I
smacked my thigh.
*sigh*
Looking At Me Looking At You
I opened the blinds
and got a surprise,
a brown grasshopper's
staring me in the eyes.
Clinging to the screen
with all of his might,
not sure who had
the bigger fright.
and got a surprise,
a brown grasshopper's
staring me in the eyes.
Clinging to the screen
with all of his might,
not sure who had
the bigger fright.
Honor Our Veterans
Veterans
are the ones
who put country first
despite their fears,
the danger,
the odds.
Honor our Veterans
today
and
everyday.
Crazy Eights
Dealer deals
seven cards.
Getting eights
is really hard.
I pick and pick
then discard.
Mom and I
playing cards.
seven cards.
Getting eights
is really hard.
I pick and pick
then discard.
Mom and I
playing cards.
An Unexpected Encounter
A curve in the path
opens into a
clearing.
A coyote and I
lock eyes
surprised
to be standing
two feet apart.
After our mutual
"oh my" moment
we look away
then depart
in opposite directions.
We check
over our shoulders
to see that
the other species
continues
to retreat
until we are too far
apart
to see each others eyes.
opens into a
clearing.
A coyote and I
lock eyes
surprised
to be standing
two feet apart.
After our mutual
"oh my" moment
we look away
then depart
in opposite directions.
We check
over our shoulders
to see that
the other species
continues
to retreat
until we are too far
apart
to see each others eyes.
RIP Jack O'Lantern
I have dark spots,
my mouth now droops.
My flesh and skin
has turned to goop.
I'm not a zombie,
my name is Jack.
I used to shine bright,
now my guts are black.
In the compost heap
I currently sit.
I'm decomposing
lickity-split.
Soon I will be
mixed into the ground
helping next year's crop
become plump and round.
my mouth now droops.
My flesh and skin
has turned to goop.
I'm not a zombie,
my name is Jack.
I used to shine bright,
now my guts are black.
In the compost heap
I currently sit.
I'm decomposing
lickity-split.
Soon I will be
mixed into the ground
helping next year's crop
become plump and round.
Unexpected Weather
Trashcan banged,
a blustery gust.
Steady rain
smoothing dust.
Surprising
midnight storm.
In November,
not the norm.
a blustery gust.
Steady rain
smoothing dust.
Surprising
midnight storm.
In November,
not the norm.
Mortimer Minute for Poetry Friday
Huge thank you to Linda Baie at Teacher Dance for tagging me in The Mortimer Minute Children's Poetry Blog Hop! She also happens to be the host of this week's Poetry Friday Roundup! Hop on over and nibble on some amazing poetry!
Started by children's poet and author Janet Wong several week's ago, I get to enjoy Mortimer's company this week, soothing his sore belly after a night of Trick-or-Treating. Here's another carrot, Dear Mortimer...
I'm supposed to answer one question from the person who tagged me (Linda) then add two of my own. Finally, I will tag another blogger and Mortimer will be on his way..
The question I chose to answer from Linda's Hop is: "What is one funny poem you can recite that you use for children?"
I love the following poem both for it's lay out on the page (screen) and its repeated use of "bit". Mortimer approved of my choice...
Rabbit
by Mary Ann Hoberman
A rabbit
Bit
A little bit
An itty-bitty
Little bit of beet
Then bit
By bit
He bit
Because he liked the taste of it
My questions:
Why do you post a poem EVERYday?
In a word: practice. I am trying to improve my skills and the best way to do this is by practicing my skills. I am not always successful with my poetry, but once in a while I create a gem. By posting my poetry daily on a blog I am held accountable to my small, but loyal, group of readers. *waves and mouths thank you to each and everyone of you*
Are your poems autobiographical and/or about your family?
I am actually asked this question a lot. Sometimes they are about me and/or my family (though the names have been changed) and sometimes they are just random streams of my consciousness. Once I wrote a poem about a child getting a huge snarl in her hair and she has to get a haircut. After I posted that poem I had several family members asking if it was about one of my girls who have VERY long hair (down to their waist). It wasn't, it was just a funny thought I had one day.
Little Willow is a bookseller, writer, actress, and webdesigner, among other things. At her blog, Bildungsroman, you'll find her book review, exclusive interviews with authors, and booklists galore. Wondering where does her blog get its name? Dictionary.com defines a bildungsroman as "a novel whose principal subject is the moral, psychological, and intellectual development of a usually youthful main character." And though her blog has an emphasis on YA fiction, LW also reads and reviews books for younger audiences as well as adults. Drop by sometime!
Started by children's poet and author Janet Wong several week's ago, I get to enjoy Mortimer's company this week, soothing his sore belly after a night of Trick-or-Treating. Here's another carrot, Dear Mortimer...
I'm supposed to answer one question from the person who tagged me (Linda) then add two of my own. Finally, I will tag another blogger and Mortimer will be on his way..
The question I chose to answer from Linda's Hop is: "What is one funny poem you can recite that you use for children?"
I love the following poem both for it's lay out on the page (screen) and its repeated use of "bit". Mortimer approved of my choice...
Rabbit
by Mary Ann Hoberman
A rabbit
Bit
A little bit
An itty-bitty
Little bit of beet
Then bit
By bit
He bit
Because he liked the taste of it
My questions:
Why do you post a poem EVERYday?
In a word: practice. I am trying to improve my skills and the best way to do this is by practicing my skills. I am not always successful with my poetry, but once in a while I create a gem. By posting my poetry daily on a blog I am held accountable to my small, but loyal, group of readers. *waves and mouths thank you to each and everyone of you*
Are your poems autobiographical and/or about your family?
I am actually asked this question a lot. Sometimes they are about me and/or my family (though the names have been changed) and sometimes they are just random streams of my consciousness. Once I wrote a poem about a child getting a huge snarl in her hair and she has to get a haircut. After I posted that poem I had several family members asking if it was about one of my girls who have VERY long hair (down to their waist). It wasn't, it was just a funny thought I had one day.
That's it for my part of the HOP, now I pass Mortimer and his stash of carrots to...
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