Cut Yourself a Break

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During the month of March, I successfully completed the Slice of Life Story Challenge. At the end of the month my writing life was feeling energized, and I committed myself to the Poem a Day challenge where as the title indicates, I would write a poem each day for the month of April. I made it eight days!

In the interest of my love of poetry writing, I had to stop. To me, poetry is like a fine meal; it takes time to prepare and time to enjoy. My poems were becoming more like fast food than fine dining. If this were an episode of Chopped, I would be the first chef going home.

Sometimes goals have to be re-evaluated, and plans need to be changed. That’s OK. I had to repeating this to myself, because I felt like I was letting someone down by not continuing to write a poem every day. Who was I letting down? My millions of followers? Myself? I write almost every day even when I do not publish a blog post. I don’t know why that isn’t enough. Why am I feeling like I failed?

Over the weekend I spoke with my daughter and was telling her my tale of woe. She suggested that I might be putting to much on my “to do” list and that my expectations were too ambitious. She really got me thinking.

Goals should be realistic and attainable or else you are setting yourself up for failure. While wanting to write a poem a day and admiring my circle of writing friends who do, is a nice thought, I know that realistically I can’t do it for a couple of reasons. First, this school year is just so demanding, and some days I don’t get to write until way past the time of coherent thinking. Secondly, poems don’t come quiet as freely to me as prose. I need to spend more time on a poem before I feel ready to share.

So I decided that I am going to feel satisfied that I wrote a poem for the first eight days of April and let it go at that. Hopefully I will write a post a few more before the end of the month, but if not; that’s ok too.

How about you? Are you being kind, patient, generous, and accepting of yourself? Are you cutting yourself a break? If not, you should. It is refreshing!

Color My World

30 Color Quotes for a Colorful Life - Best Quotes About Color

Today we had a middle school club period; I moderate the Poetry Workshop. Our focus today was on color poems. First the students did a quick write about their favorite color, and then I shared Hailstones and Halibut Bones by Mary O’Neill. If you don’t know this book, you must check it out. It is a beautifully written and illustrated collection of color poems. Below is my quick draft that I wrote while the kids were writing their color poems.

PURPLE

Purple is royal and regal and proud.
It can be muted, or it can be loud.

In the kitchen purple can be small or big
Eggplants and onions; cabbage and fig

Purple is hyacinths, verbena, and aster.
It’s also in sunsets over the pasture.

If you’re Prince, you see purple in the rain.
If you’re clumsy, you see it after the pain.

Purple has many names; here are some:
amethyst, lavender, magenta, and plum.

What’s your favorite color? Why?

#nationalpoetrymonth #verselove #PAD

Mountain Climbing

Today’s poem is a triolet. “A triolet has 13th century French roots linked to the rondeau or “round” poem. It is an eight line poem.

A (first line)
B (second line)
a (rhymes with first line)
A (repeat first line)
a (rhymes with first line)
b (rhymes with second line)
A (repeat first line)
B (repeat second line) (Writer’s Digest)

Here is my draft of a triolet.

Mountain Climbing

The stairs are always cruel to me
my Mt. Everest for sure
one at a time, knee by knee
The stairs are always cruel to me
I hate that others have to see
that climbing stairs has become a chore
The stairs are always cruel to me
my Mt. Everest for sure.

#poemaday #verselove #nationalpoetrymonth

The Hugs

Big Hug Quotes (Page 1) - Line.17QQ.com

Sunday was the day! On Sunday, we gathered at my son’s house to celebrate Easter. All of the kids and grandkids were there, and my husband had the day off. The weather was perfect fo the egg hunt, and the grandkids loved it.

Sunday was the day! Three of six adults are completely vaccinated while the other three get shot two this week. It had been over a year since we all were in the same room together. Even though we still were wearing masks and the visit wasn’t long with the entire family, it was wonderful! There were hugs for the first time in over a year!

Sunday was the day! I cannot even describe the feeling I had as I hugged my children and grandchildren. I wouldn’t say we were an overly affectionate family, but there are definitely kisses and hugs when we enter and leave each others’ company.

Sunday was the day! I felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

Going Back to School

someecards.com | Vacation quotes funny, Vacation meme, Back to work after  vacation

Today’s poem is a Cinquain. “Inspired by tanka, the cinquain is comprised of 2 syllables in the first line, 4 in the second line, 6 in the third, 8 in the fourth, and 2 in the fifth. Plus, poets have the freedom to add or subtract one syllable from each line.” (Writer’s Digest)

This is my draft of a cinquian.

Tuesday
feels like Monday
first day back after break
the countdown to the end of school
begins.

Easter Egg Hunt

Today’s poem is a Quintilla.

“The quintilla is a Spanish poetic form that, as you may have guessed from the name, uses five-line stanzas. Here are the guidelines:

  • Five-line stanzas.
  • Eight syllables per line.
  • An ab rhyme scheme in which at least two lines use the “a” rhyme and at least two lines use the “b” rhyme…
  • But the stanza cannot end with a rhyming couplet.”

(From Writer’s Digest).

This is my draft of a stanza of a Quintilla

Kids ran in every direction
to find plastic eggs on the ground
filled with delightful confection
searching and giggling abound
now each have their own collection

Unexpected Kindness

50 Kindness Quotes That Will Stay With You | Reader's Digest

During the month of April, I have challenged myself to write a poem each day as a way to participate in National Poetry Month. Today’s poem is a TANKA. Tanka poetry refers to a Japanese 31-syllable poem, traditionally written as a single, unbroken line. The word “tanka” translates to “short song.”  Here is my version.

Kind acts are alive

Shopping at the Dollar Store

Someone held the door

Conversations in aisles

A car stopped to let me cross.

Some days gettting around is not as easy as others, and those small acts of kindness really mean a lot. Not only did a young woman hold the door for me, she was was like a perky store greeter asking me how I was. A couple of people in the store struck up short conversations about items they were looking at. Even with masks and social distancing, and people searching for last minute items, there was kindness. It was a cane day for me, so heading back to my car I stood on the sidewalk waiting for a good time to cross over to my parking spot when a driver in an SUV stopped and let me cross and didn’t creep up as I was crossing. I felt unhurried, and that was another kind act that made a difference in my day. It was certainly a reminder to be kind: it isn’t that hard and could change a person’s day.

Where is Home?

A house is made with walls and beams; a home is made with love and dreams.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Where is home?
Home is where you are, my love.

Where our kids and grandkids gather
To laugh and play and eat

Where we worry and
make decisions – easy and hard

Where you listen to how my day was
and I listen to yours.

Where we lift each other up
and support each other’s dreams

Where we compare our aches and pains
and fall asleep watching TV

Home is where I long to be
whenever I am away from you

To celebrate National Poetry Month, I have challenged myself to write a poem each day for the month of April. My plan is to write using the theme “small moments,” but I will honor wherever my writing takes me. The writing is really in the driver’s sear.

Baseball Memories

GOOD BASEBALL QUOTES | Baseball quotes, Baseball season, Better baseball

Today is one of my favorite days of the year – Opening Day! I learned the game of baseball by watching my dad coach my brothers Little League teams during a time when girls were not permitted to play organized sports. After the games there would be talk of the games, and I listened. I was proud to know the rules of the game, the positions, and the plays. Those baseball memories started a love affair with baseball that continues today.

The crack
of the bat
brings me back

to the flagstone patio,
where we listened
to Phillies’ home games

on the transistor radio
broadcasted from
Connie Mack Stadium.

Richie Ashburn,
Byron Saam,
Harry Kalas,

their voices
were the voices
of a simpler time.

So many of my fondest memories are wrapped up in the sights and sounds of baseball. BASEBALL = LOVE

PLAY BALL!