Neologism
Once talk at the next table had hushed, I made the observation
that it was likely they were listening to our conversation.
And though they were both smirking and though their eyes were glistening,
they swore they were not eavesdropping. They were just overlistening!
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Eavesdrop. (This true story happened to a friend and me in 1981 in a small diner in Cannon Beach, Oregon.) A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words.
Bumblebees
Plant some flowers, and they will come,
and though they have a fuzzy bum,
curb your finger, curb your thumb.
Have another sip of rum.
Crack your knuckles, pop your gum.
Call your sweetie, call your mum.
Bake some brownies and have you some.
Sing a ditty, whistle, hum.
Play tuba ‘til your lips are numb.
Strum your cello, pound your drum.
Sand your chair legs ‘til they’re plumb.
Pat your kitten’s furry tum,
but as these bumblebees go and come,
to pet one would be really dumb!!!!!
For the dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille Challenge: bum. Two quadrilles on this one!!
To see the challenge, go HERE.
In our youth, we’re given to wild rambles,
coming home with burrs and brambles
to share on carpets and on towels
that prompt our family’s shrieks and howls.
These thrills we find in fields and ditches
well worth sharp things brought home on britches.
I must admit that I had to sacrifice words to meet the demands of the Quadrille, but I can’t resist sharing my first longer (against the rules) version as well. Here it is:
Rambles
When I was lithe and limber and given to wild rambles,
I came home from my wanderings complete with burrs and brambles.
I shed them on the carpets, I shared them via towels,
never taking credit for the curses, shrieks and howls.
I thought my meanderings among the fields and ditches
were worth the sacrifice of things brought in on my britches.
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Bramble.
(Click on photos to enlarge)
Beach Boys, Second Generation
See the motley little band
trudge the beach, tip cup in hand.
A funnel stuffed into a hose––
is held to lips and then one blows.
Two other small musicians lug
a twenty-liter water jug.
Later, one begins to hum
accompanying his buddy’s drum.
I’ve shown these photos before, but the poem is new, for: dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Drum
Loose Lips
Your tongue is loose, it has been said,
and though you swear “Better off dead
than tell your secret,” still, it’s true
you’ll find someone to leak it to.
So though you did it without knowing,
I fear, my dear, your slip is showing.
For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Slip
I hope you don’t mind that I used this photo I took of you a few years ago, Erin, and Pat. In no way is the poem about you. it was just the perfect illustration!! xoxo
On the Fix
She’s on the fix:
repairing hems,
cleaning the oven,
puttying cracks,
organizing drawers,
straightening picture frames
with no idea
of how to fix
a cracked heart.
She needs a breaking
of old habits
—a lesson
on letting be,
leaving her broken things
to heal themselves.
Here is the prompt: https://dversepoets.com/
and below is where you can go to read other responses:
For the dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge: Fix
The dVerse Poet’s prompt today is the word “flush.” The poem is to be a quadrille—-exactly 44 words, not counting the title.
Magic
Wish upon that falling star and
put a four leaf clover in your button hole.
Carve our initials into soap and rub them into us.
Light a candle and chant a spell,
because I want,
because
I’ve got to have
magic.
For dVerse Poets Quadrille Challenge
An Open Letter to the N.Y. Times Regarding Their Sunday Crossword
Your circular riddle’s an impossible pill
to swallow. Your blanks I struggle to fill.
The crux of the matter? I never know
just how to harvest the seeds that you sow.
I find your clues exceedingly queer.
Your genius outreaches my talent, I fear.
Prompt words today are circular, riddle, outreach and crux. I’m also answering the dVerse Poet’s Quadrille Challenge making use of the word fill in a 44-word poem.
Here’s the dVerse prompt: https://dversepoets.com/2020/02/10/quadrille-97-filling-the-page/
Image by Daniels Joffe on Unsplash, used with permission
King Neptune’s Joust
Who seeks to best the ocean’s roar
is just a fool, and no more—
delusional right to his core.
The protection of the knights of yore—
that plaited metal that they wore—
was but a many-chambered door
that led them to the ocean’s floor.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 