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. When you get there, click 'General Board' and the topics will appear.
I put a list of things, or items, that must appear in the poem. Each item must have its own stanza and the poem must have a theme. Participants must use at least 5 words from the list, or they may use all.
They don't see a picture until the page is published.
This is the list for this weekend (12-10-07)
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. We love feedback.
In a child's world of enchantment
Christmas is the best time of year
Wondering what gifts will be sent
Snow drifts pile against the window
Leaves are gone from the trees
Children's smiles are all aglow
Mama's in the kitchen baking
Little Mary has the gingerbread cookies frosted
The cold gets Grandpa's joints a aching
Happy people with eyes twinkling
Dreaming of what Christmas day will bring
Wind chimes on the porch are tinkling
The cooling air brings cheeks to blush
While woolen gloves keep fingers warm
And shopping at the mall in a rush
Joining Grandma and Grandpa at table
The family play domino's together
With Grandpa telling his favorite fable
Shhh now...The children are asleep
Waiting for Santa to come
Don't wake them, let them their dreams to keep
By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)
The enchantment of Christmas and the happiness of a new year,
A chance to start over and explore a new frontier.
The year has gone in the twinkling of an eye.
It is almost time to bid the old year goodbye.
I blush at the thought that I am another year older,
But I have lived yet another year and should be not only happy but in my expressions bolder.
The years are mounting like snow drifts on a stormy winter's day.
They are fragrant to the memory like a spiritual bouquet.
I hope the domino affect doesn't apply to the passing of time,
And come crashing down on me like a very bad rhyme.
"Shhhhhh......" don't wake the sleeping giant that lives within my imagination.
If he were to awake, he could cause me much frustration.
I might go on a rampage and frost the ends of my hair,
Or get a face lift or something that could compare.
No, let him sleep in peaceful repose forever more.
We don't want his creative avenues to explore.
By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)
The windows were frosted,
Almost looked ghostly
As out the window I did look,
Took my nose out of the book,
Pretty patterns were there,
They were everywhere.
Shhhhhhhhh . . . . . .
Please do not wake Ben,
He just returned from the glen,
And mistletoe he brought us,
But the tree fell over and we did cuss.
Quickly into a festive mood,
Reinforced by some food.
Uncle Joe and Bill, were dominos playing
They had been to the still and one was a staying.
Laughing and drinking they were,
As the tree came back from around the curve.
For Sarah did put the mistletoe
Over Uncle Joe, who was no foe.
Snow drifts in the yard,
It is still snowing very hard.
But the drifts are over Billís car,
I do not thing he will go very far,
Next he and Uncle Joe will go to dadís bar,
Then no way can either drive a car.
Bill did Mary Ann kiss,
Old Bill rarely does miss,
As blush sis did
As her boy friend Bobby Joe,
To her had just proposed.
After a few glasses of egg nog,
The whole family was on a jog,
But with twinkles in their eyes,
No one did they ever despise.
And there was lots of loving too,
For the still kept them from getting blue.
The Land of enchantment they say,
But we live our lives, come what may,
We may be very poor,
While others ask for some more,
But enchanted lives we live by the mill,
Hope they do not find that wonderful still.
So now we do Christmas await,
And already half of them are late,
But we smile and sing anyway,
For that is doing it our way.
So a good Yule to you,
Hope you do not catch the flu.
By Tom (TOMWYO@aol.com)
'Tis the season for some enchantment.
And it's hard to stay on track.
Did I put stamps on the cards I sent?
If not, they'll all come back.
Pretty lights are twinkling up and down the street.
For either Christmas, Kwaanza or Chanukah.
Every where you look, the season is so sweet,
Like "We Three Kings" played on a harmonica.
Blustery winds are blowing,
Brings a blush upon my cheeks.
To the mall I'm going.
Wrapping gifts could take me weeks!
Slogging to the stores ahead,
Plugging through huge snow drifts.
I was only going to buy some bread
Now my cart is filled with gifts!
Gave my friend a set of dominos.
I thought that's what she'd like.
Wrong! But that's how it goes.
Now for pizza I'll have to hike.
My cats are sleeping, gently snoring.
Piled by the doorway, in a heap.
But the next door neighbor is really roaring.
"Shhhh,,, all that noise! I cannot sleep!"
The frosted windows look so nice.
No decoration do they require.
But it's INSIDE that there's ice!
I need to build up the fire...
By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)
Three little girls stood at their bedroom window looking out,
Three little girls with long blonde curls, dressed in flannel nightgowns.
"Oh goodie," the youngest one said, "The snow has stopped.
The stars are out and the wind has made snow drifts."
"Look," the middle one said, pointing. "That old pine tree looks just like a Christmas tree.
And over there is Santa's sleigh," she added. "His reindeer look like dominos."
The oldest girl spoke up. "Oooooo, I see a gingerbread house,
And...and a sack full of toys."
Three warm noses pressed against the frosted windowpanes,
As three pairs of eyes scanned the snowdrifts for more Christmas shapes.
The youngest girl giggled: "I see an elf.
I see Santa!"
"Where, where?" The others squealed, jumping up and down, giggling.
"There, over by the barn door. He's there by the sleigh."
By then the excitement had put a rosy blush on their cheeks,
So they didn't feel the cold of their bedroom.
A barnyard, a misshapen pine tree, a rusty barbed-wire fence
Had, in the eyes of three little girls become a scene of enchantment.
One would see something and point it out to the others
And it wasn't long until the old farmhouse, with its single-paned windows and
red tin roof had become the home in a story book adventure.
In their imaginations, twinkling lights were everywhere,
And the old pine tree had indeed become their Christmas tree.
The fence, with its snow covered wires, on that particular night dripped with tinsel,
And the chicken coop was their doll house.
A cold winter draft seeped through the cracks around the windows
But the little girls were so entranced they didn't notice.
Then one suddenly said, "There's Momma. She's off work and she's coming up the lane.
We'd better get back to bed! Hurry!" Then, "Shhhhhh..."
By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)