One Sunny Day

Image provided for by Monday's Child/Illustration by Kay Akers

One Sunny Day

One sunny morning…

            …I headed out with Mike.

                and I spied a wee tyke

                of a girl on a trike.  I

                saw she was with her mum

                who pushed a pram, by gum.

                I waved, and then I said, “Hi!”

                She grinned and then looked up

                and so did Mike, my pup.

                So, I too looked towards the sky,

And so did everyone else in my building.

One sunny morning…

            …My brother crowed, “Guess what?

                There was a string I cut

                which was tied on a balloon

                so now the thing can soar

                ‘til we see it no more.

                Think it can fly to the moon?!”

                My grandma answered, “Yes!

                In fact, that is my guess.

                I think it should get there soon.”

And soon, I think it might have done just that!

One sunny morning…

            ...Windows were unshuttered.

                Ooohs and ahhhs were uttered.

                We all watched the balloon rise.

                The small girl said to me,

                “Can I come by for tea

                later, so we can reprise

                another air-borne sight?”

               “I think that sounds just right,”

                I did extemporize

And my spirits flew upward, just like that balloon.

One sunny morning…

            …I took Mike for his walk.

                At the sky, I did gawk

                whilst I sang a happy tune.

                Mike seemed to like my song

               ‘cause he howled right along.

                It's all due to a balloon:

                the way it can make light

                on a sun-filled moon-flight.

                What might be this afternoon?

                              

                                 ###

Notes:  Poetic Form is Balassi Stanza.  For more info on it, please see The Poets Garret.  

I love this illustration!  It's fun and has a narrative all its own.  Although pink (ish) it actually reminded me of the 1956 movie, The Red Balloon, particularly the part at the end of the movie where the balloons, with seemingly a life of their own, take to the sky with a little boy.  To me, it means that you never know where one small incident might lead you, but also, that there is always hope.

You never know what might happen when you dip your toes in a creek...

Image courtesy of Monday's Child

One Morning, I Dipped My Toes in the Creek

One morning, I dipped my toes in the creek.

To my surprise, I had companionship:

A turtle, some fish and three ducks. Unique.

Why do I say that?  The white duck did speak!

She said to me, “Hey!” and waved a wing tip

the morning I dipped my toes in the creek.

At first I was dumbstruck – and then I did shriek.

The turtle said, “Dude, kindly get a grip.”

Hey turtle!  With fish and three ducks?  Unique!

 “You don’t meet talking turtles every week,”

I replied.  “We do!” the wee ducks did quip

the morning I dipped my toes in the creek.

A fish said, “It’s cool.”  (He spoke with a squeak)

 “The turtle is Bob and I am called Kip.”

A turtle?  Some fish?  And three ducks?!  Unique!

“Hi, Bob.  Hi, Kip,” I then told them, “I’m Deke,

and meeting you all is really a pip!

Who’da thought…when I chanced by this ol’ creek.

I spent the day being part of their clique,

flipping and dipping and skipping.  A trip!

One morning, I dipped my toes in the creek.

A turtle, fish, some ducks and me. Unique.

###

Notes:  I was delighted to discover that Monday's Child is back with the prompts today.  I always love the gentle illustrations posted there which bring back an earlier and more innocent era. 

Today's poem is in the form of a Villanelle.  (I figured it was time to try it again.)  It is also my way of saying that I love rhyming anthropomorphics, even if it's something 'they say' you're not supposed to do.  (Who is this 'they' anyway?)

Happy August!

Blueberries

Monday's Child Prompt - Illustration by Clara Burd

Blueberries

Bunnies love blueberries, and so do I.

I picked plenty this morning, so I’ll share.

Maybe I can save enough for a pie.

(Somehow I doubt I’ll have any to spare.)

Bunnies…would you pick more berries?  Come on,

and I’ll show you how.  It’s easy as pie.

We need more blueberries ‘cause they’re all gone.

They tasted so good, we ate our supply!

Let’s pick more tomorrow.  Bunnies, goodbye.

###

Notes: The form is Novelinee.  The illustration is a sweet gentle picture that brought to mind a small child sharing his bucket of blueberries with some of the forest animals.

***

As you may have noticed, I have not been around much in recent time.  There is a reason for that, but it is actually writing-related:  I am working to complete a middle grade historical novel.  

Because I attended a NJ SCBWI First Page session with two editors from know publishing houses, back in mid-April, I was given a three-month window of opportunity for submitting the finished book to those editors.  But...unlike previous sessions I had attended in past years, this time I only had the story sketch and the first page written.  (In the past, I've had entire books already written.)

Yikes!

Therefore, I have been researching and writing like crazy to get the book written (and polished) by the mid-July deadline.  I think I'm in the home stretch right now - so please keep your fingers crossed.

And after mid-July, I hope to be back in the proverbial saddle again, posting (and reading) poetry!  ☼

Beachy Thoughts

Illustration by Carmen L. Brown, 1917 - courtesy of Monday's Child

At the Shore

Another sunny morning at the shore and

The ocean greets my piggy toes in cool, foamy waves.

The shells on the beach and also in my bucket

Have a glowing iridescence: it’s like silvery silk, wrapped around a tiny world.

Everyone should have a morning like this at least once.

Starfish and conch and mussels swim by in the salty water.

“How do you do?” I sing, greeting each one with a smile.

Only time will tell if they’ll

Remember me after I’m grown, but

Every once in a while, when I see a pretty shell, I believe that they will.

###

Poetic form: Acrostic

Process notes: This illustration brought back memories of when I was little and I visited my grandparents, who lived in Atlantic City.  I always looked forward to walking the beach so I could see the treasures hidden in the sands, and also, I loved stand in the shallow waves and feel the water tickle my toes.