"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn" -Thomas Gray

    As of recent, I was perusing a various compilation of my past creative writing clobber and I happened upon a collection of poems I composed for a class, many and many a year ago.  Only a few are cognizant that I do in fact love poetry.  I expect that, of all the genres of writing, poetry is the one I prize above the rest.  As Robert Frost once put it, "Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down." Okay, that's enough of that poetical garb.....I thought I'd share a couple of poems that made me laugh when I went back and read some of my work.  I have a ton of more serious poems, but here are two light-hearted ones.  I'll probably put some more of my creative writing up in other posts at some point in the future. For now, enjoy this fortuitous assemblage of frivolous prattle. 

The first set of poems was an assignment to mimick the style of a poet/poem we liked.  So the first poem is by Emily Dickinson and the second is my variation of her poem:

 "Twas such a Little, Little Boat": By Emily Dickinson

‘Twas such a little, little boat That toddled down the bay! ‘Twas such a gallant, gallant sea That beckoned it away! ‘Twas such a greedy, greedy wave That licked it from the coast; Nor ever guessed the stately sails My little craft was lost!

"Twas such a tiny, tiny girl": By Anne Olson
‘Twas such a tiny, tiny girl
That tumbled down the mount
‘Twas such a callous, callous lad
That made her plummet down!
‘Twas such a hungry, hungry wolf
That watched her from the base;
Nor ever guessed that brutal boy
How scrumptious she would taste!

I think the assignment for this next one was to come up with a word that was "the perfect word" and then write about why it was so great in the form of a poem.  I honestly don't even remember the assignment or writing this, but when I read the first stanza I was.....surprised....that I had written this...you'll see why:

"The Perfect Word"

Thwack! What a word--the perfect word
It makes a chill run down my spine
Picture a tiny, pale blue bird
And then thwack! that bird is goodbye

Thwack! What a clear sound in your head
It’s better than punch, bite, or slap
"I gave him a thwack" the boy said
Instead of "I gave him a tap"

Wow! What an image you can see
When someone gives something a thwack
A boy, flyswatter, and a bee
Thwack! The boy gives the bee a smack

Ouch! What a feeling you can sense
When you here the word thwack uttered
Paul says he was thwacked hard by Spence,
Your insides begin to sputter

     Silly ay? I thought so. So, that's my post for today. A little tribute to the finesse of poetry.  May you be inspired to go forth and think deeply about life and word choice! :)