We each have a life story, penned without ink, read by the people around us. Who's writing your story?

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Fun With Poetry

Today I went back to school! 
Photo by Jenny Brock


There's nothing like sitting with preschool and elementary school students, reading poetry to them, and chatting about writing. Many thanks to Abington Christian Academy in Northeast Pennsylvania for inviting me to their 100th Day Event. Several others from our community also came and shared their expertise.

Today I read a few poems I've written along the way. If you're young at heart, you might enjoy them, too.


Morning Tangles

Morning tangles
Mazes in my hair
Secret Snarls
Undercover nightmare

Brush it! Comb it!
Tug of war - OW!
"Could I please do it later
Instead of just now?"

Morning Tangles
Aggravating spots
Bottle of detangler
Sprayed on all my spots

Brush it! Comb it!
Snarls start of move
Tug of war's over
Finally smooth!
 Hiccups

I brought my hiccups with me.
They never left  my side.
As Mom and I went shopping,
They tried to hurt my pride.

I hiccuped by the broccoli
And near the peanut butter.
No matter how I tried to stop,
Those hiccups made me stutter.

I visited the drinking fountain,
Held my breath, and counted.
Those hiccups stayed - determined
And very much undaunted.

And so I brought my hiccups home.
My insides felt so shaken.
I promise you - This was no joke.
I really wasn't fakin'!

So if the hiccups find you
When you go into the store,
I'll meet you by the broccoli.
Let's keep score.



Coming Home
 
Gather up towels, swim suit, and sneaks.
Zip up my sleeping bag. Roll it up neat.

Laundry bag, camera, flashlight, and jacket -
Scramble to pack it - Ricochet racket! 

Voices echo, "See you next year.
Please write soon. Don't forget your gear."

Chattering car ride - So much to say:
Hiking, campfires . . . Wish I could stay . . . 

Home for Mom's supper. Yum. What a treat.
Finally, the favorites I love to eat.

A bath tonight? Okay. Feels warm and good.
Bedtime already? I'll go when I should.

Snuggled 'neath my covers like a bird in its       nest . . .
Camp was fun, but home's the best!




Treacherous Ride

old bike
red paint
black seat
wide tires
down the street

no hands
no feet
too fast
flip over
land hard
wind gone

next time
hang on!

*Photos from bing.com/images


3 comments:

  1. I like your poems, Sarah! Can I share your Treacherous Ride bicycle poem on our Action Sports Facebook page? :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you! I added it!
      https://www.facebook.com/bicyclesandskis/

      Delete