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 (12-22-07)
on the corner
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.
What is all that noise
Asked the old lady with poise
It's easy to hear
Even with my deaf ear
Someone is slurping
And it isn't birds chirping
Slurping their citrus slush
I wish they would hush
Hey bring me some wine
The dandelion kind
It would be a good taste
Though it would go to my waist
Then someone brought it
So she wouldn't have a fit
In a large pitcher of that
But she wanted a vat
She drank it all down
Did a jig around the town
Strutting like hot stuff
stripped down to the buff
Dancing down to the corner
The cop there did warn her
Lady you are as drunk
As a stinking old skunk
Then on a whim
She tossed confetti at him
Off he hauled her to jail
She had to post bail
By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)
It was Near Year's Eve, and Grandma had her famous Dandelion wine.
It was a tradition with her and on a smorgasbord we would dine.
Mama who was a tea totaler had a pitcher of lemonade.
Her way to Grandma's habit evade.
There was a lot of noise in the house as family began to arrive.
The record playing was going as the younger members began to jive.
On the corner was a stalled car with the engine trying to start.
Everyone wanted it to hurry and depart.
The last winter storm had left a lot of slush on the street,
And Grandma was asking everyone to be sure and wipe their feet.
Aunt Sue finally arrived in her low cut black dress and stiletto heels.
All the men thought she was "hot stuff" driving her Corvette,
some fancy wheels.
Uncle John had confetti to throw at the stroke of twelve.
As to who was kissing who, we will not delve.
Grandma raised a toast with her Dandelion wine,
And all the family had a very good time.
By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)
There is no noise
Where once were boys
With changing voices,
"Hot stuff" they thought they were,
And cuffed and fought,
At a tender age,
A future bright.
As the yellow flowers
Of a dandelion field
Before its tufts puffed
And all blew away.
Before they knew
The lurks on the corner
Who would entice
Give bad advice.
Their dreams of being richer
Or a pitcher of world renown
These boys still wet
Behind youth's ears.
Oh, Boys, don't rush
Through the slush of mind
Of the lurking kind who would
Take your dreams away.
Embrace your short youth
And when you're ready,
Colored party confetti
Will rain down on you.
By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
I hear a noise, the clanking of toys,
A noise in my attic and that was no static,
Wonder if it is the little boys,
About Christmas they have become emphatic,
But alas out on the corner,
I thought I heard a din,
And as I peeped out of a dormer,
Guess what I saw on that corner?
In the slush was what looked like a lush,
In the mush and wet snow,
And from here I could see he was a flush,
He had a large sack and needed a blow.
I laughed for there were no dandelions in the yard,
What a silly thing to say on Christmas eve,
But dandelion wine I had been sipping hard,
And he reminded me of uncle Steve.
I brought him in for some hot stuff,
I gave him a warm glass of wine,
And he wiped his nose on his cuff,
As he drank it he was so gruff,
So the pitcher I did hand him,
He wiped the rim with his chin,
And in one swig took it all in,
Leaving a few dribbles on his chin.
I handed him a paper towel,
And confetti he made of it,
And said there was nothing wrong with his bowels,
And my wife I thought was going to him hit.
As some dollars I did give him,
He looked at me with a big grin,
Said I was sort of dim,
And he being Santa no sin.
Four brown paper wrapped packages he left,
As he smiled and seemed a nice man,
His fingers were quite deft,
As he quickly left in a van.
You figure it out,
Each package contained coal,
For I am now drinking stout,
At the old dastard so bold.
He hee and har de har
It was the man from next door.
By Tom (TOMWYO@aol.com)
She stood on the sidewalk in front of Time's Square,
Waiting for the ball to drop.
It was New Year's Eve and she had come to
Participate in one of New York City's biggest celebrations.
The streets and sidewalks were full of people;
The noise was deafening. The traffic had been
Re-routed so there were just people - masses of people.
She turned to her friend, who had covered his ears, and smiled.
In all her years she had never thought
Of herself as being at Time's Square on New Year's Eve.
She had grown up in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains
And had come to Manhattan less than a year ago.
She had grown up with dandelions and meadow larks
Instead of subways and sidewalks.
She still had a lot to learn about city life,
But her friend Randy was teaching her a lot.
Just now a blizzard of confetti was being thrown from tall buildings,
And the noise level had increased.
A vendor yelled, "Hot Stuff! Coffee, Tea, Hot Chocolate!"
Randy pulled out his wallet and bought two Hot Chocolates.
The clock said 11:59 and the big ball began its descent.
Sirens sounded, people whistled and yelled.
"Happy New Year!" Randy shouted, and pulled her into his arms.
"Will you Marry me?" he said, and she yelled, "Yes!"
By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)
Ode to 2007
The Night Before Christmas
Jen And Yaz
Me And Mrs. Claus
Softly Spoken Words
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