Another challenge on our message board. If you would like to participate, come to the board. I post a challenge every weekend and you'll find the link HERE.

I put a list of things, or items, that must appear in the poem. Each item must have its own verse and the poem must have a theme. This week only five of the six words or items had to be used.

Participants don't see a picture until the page is published.



This was the list for this past weekend (9-16-07)


*


horses


fog


home


kewpie doll


"Double The Price"


leather



The poems are very imaginative and quite different from each other. I thought the results were very good and if you like what you read, let the poet know. They love feedback.


County Fair



The fall was late, the crops were too,
And the fair was for the first time set back.
But with much enthusiasm toward it we looked,
For it took us away from our books.


Dad did show his fine team,
The best pair of Morgan’s the county had ever seen,
And the work into them mom and dad put,
As they curried and the harness polished.


On that morning the fog was thick,
For they had to there be early.
The fog made we children rambunctious
As so excited we really were.


Mom had three patch work quilts she and grandma made,
Hung them in the stall we bought.
Lady offered her a price,
Grandma smiled and said, “Double the price.”


Those three quilts for a premium went,
Two of them blue ribbons won,
And mom and grandma said,
We made enough to pay for the fair.


Brother Jim and I did cut up,
Momma tried to settle us down,
But we knew we would get it,
When we got home.


Poppa did the leather strap get,
And boy did he tan our hides.
Blistered our little behinds,
Said we acted, like no children of his.


And the worst part of all,
Was not a whipping getting,
But he did my kewpie doll stomp,
Said it would not be in his house.


Soon that was forgotten and behind
As we reveled and the fair remembered.
I even the Ferris wheel rode three times,
And did kiss Marilyn Rose.


Remembrances of things long past,
Remembrances of those childhood days.
But shucks that kewpie doll,
I was going to give it to Marilyn Rose.



© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)











LEFT HIS HOME AND DROVE TO WALMART
PARKING HIS CAR AND GRABBING A CART
FIRST STOPPING IN THE AISLE FOR TOOLS
THEN TO THE TOY SECTION LIKE A FOOL


HE PICKED UP A CUTE KEWPIE DOLL
LOOKING AT COST HE MUTTERED WOW
STILL HE PUT IT IN HIS CART
AND WANDERED SOME MORE IN WALMART


NEXT HE SPIED A PLASTIC HORSE
HE PUT IT IN HIS CART OF COURSE
WALKING OVER TO ANOTHER AISLE
HE GAZED ABOUT AT THE THINGS AWHILE


THE HOBBY SECTION CAUGHT HIS EYE
A FEATHER AND LEATHER KIT HE DID BUY
ALL OF THESE THINGS WENT IN HIS CART
WHILE WANDERING THROUGH WALMART


OH BOY THE ELECTRONICS DEPARTMENT
INTO THAT AREA HE SPENT AND SPENT
EVERYTHING WAS DOUBLE THE PRICE
BUT HE FOUND THEY WERE EVER SO NICE


ON HIS RETURN HIS WIFE WAS MAD
FOR DEPLETING THEIR SAVINGS LIKE HE HAD
SHE CONKED HIM ON THE HEAD WITH A HAMMER
POLICE CAME AND TOOK HER TO SLAMMER


BUT THE DAMAGE TO HIS BRAIN WAS DONE
HE WALKED AROUND IN A FOG IN THE SUN
BUT THEN AS SHE LATER REPLIED TO ALL
HE ALWAYS WAS IN A FOG DON'T YOU RECALL



© By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)











I rode the horses on the carousel.
The thing I liked very well.
On the boardwalk, at the shore.
Wished I lived there, forevermore.


The fog off the ocean rolled on in.
Covered the sands, hid every sin.
I watched it blow over my head,
Like being rolled in a featherbed.


"Come play the wheel! Our prizes are nice..
Couldn't get better at double the price!"
"Shoot the ducks down with a water gun.
Try it just once, It's a lot of fun."


I love it here, don't want to go home.
On the boardwalk I can just roam.
Eat the hot dogs and vinegar fries,
Finish it off with marshmallow pies.


Look what I won! A coat made of leather!
Most likely it's plastic, I don't care whether.
Keeps off the rain, it's starting to drizzle.
Can you smell the hamburgers starting to sizzle?


Another win! A Kewpie doll here.
And now the sky is starting to clear.
Don't you wish you were me?
Strolling the boardwalk, down by the sea.



© By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)











I loved riding horses at Waimanelo Stables in the Pacific.
Kewpie Doll was my favorite to be specific.


Riding her was "Double the price" because she moved so slow.
What I mean is you got more for your money, and your ride was long, don't you know.


The morning fog hung over the Pali in a gray-blue sky.
It was like a painting to the creative eye.


The leather saddle was of the English type.
The blanket was pretty with an orange stripe.


Kewpie Doll had one thing on her mind on every ride.
That was to go home to her barn, so she picked up her stride.


As soon as the hitching post came into view,
She revved up her engines, and off she flew.



© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@msn.com)











Through fog of mind
Shapes of times behind
Form and reform
As drifting clouds.


You in the fall
Tossed a ring-tossed ball and
Won a kewpie doll for me
Declared your love.


You spent, but langhed, all broke
"Cheap at double the price" you spoke
And I replied,
Declared my own.


Pockets empty you took my hand, and
Led me home to stand
At my door, to kiss
And seal resolve.

Now you're sleeping there
In your worn out leather chair
My handsome knight,
Of paunch and snore.


As I stare with deep affection
Wild horses can't break our connection
Our years our life,
Through love-shaped clouds.



© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)





An early morning fog had ghosted the farm,
Winding around fence posts, cloaking the barn.
Hal opened the backdoor, crossed the porch to the steps,
A hundred things to do, and no breakfast yet.


First things first, he thought crossing the yard,
He'd look in on Kewpie Doll, who'd had it hard
Last night. Her first delivery, a foal with a star,
Wobbly legs, its coat the color of coal tar.


Thoroughbred horses, Kentucky bred,
The best in the country, horse lovers said,
He opened the barn door, went straight to the stall,
Where he found Kewpie Doll, who was liking it all.


Two horses were being led out to the track,
Exercise time, training wouldn't go slack,
He climbed to the loft, began pitching straw,
Sending it down to Kewpie Doll's stall.


It was warm in the barn, it smelled of horse flesh,
Harness leather, sweat, and manure that was fresh.
He heard a bell, set off for the house,
Breakfast was ready, a signal from his spouse.


"Daddy, Daddy," his six year old said,
Red-haired Ann Marie had just crawled out of bed.
"Did Kewpie Doll have her foal last night?
Did she Daddy? Is she alright?"


The farm held an auction, thoroughbreds on the block,
Buyers strolled around, checking horses, taking stock.
"What about this one? I'll pay double the price."
"Foal of Kewpie Doll?" Hal laughed. "No dice."



© By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)











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The Little Red Schoolhouse ( 5 Authors )




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