Hey guys! Long time no see!!
I'm just doing a quick post on a
poetry reading that I went to a few weeks ago. It was poems by John
Snyder, world-renowned for his Haiku. (if you've read my other posts you
know that I love Haiku!!) He read Haiku and other forms of poetry.
Here's a bio:
John R Snyder's haiku have achieved international
recognition. He was an invited poet at the 2004 World Haiku Festival in
the Netherlands, where he won first place in the festival competition.
His haiku, senryu, renku and longer lyrical poems have appeared
in publications around the world, including the USA, England, Romania.
France, the Netherlands, and Japan. He has served as a section editor
for the World Haiku Review and has twice been a featured poet at the Austin International Poetry Festival.
I
thought it was amazing. how he had SUCH a large vocabulary. I mean, he
used words that I would never even thought of or heard of. Here's one of
his Haiku:
open windows –
from the garden I can hear
the neighbor’s long shower
I LOVE this poem!!! He is a great poet!
bye 4 now!!
Louisa
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
The Gym by Night part 6(Finally!)
It turned out I had fractured my wrist. It wasn’t a very
serious injury, but as I had never been really injured before, I collapsed from
nervousness. I arrived at home that evening, sporting a bright pink cast. I was enormously drowsy, so I practically
fell down on the sofa in my room. What a day it had been. Why had I tried to do
that back handspring? Sabrina had clearly warned me to not try it by myself.
And now I had this. Ugh. This cast was already getting annoying. BRRRRING! The
phone by my couch rang. I sat up weakly.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” It was Ana.
“Oh, hi.”
“Hi.”
“What’s up?”
“I was just calling to check and see how you’re feeling.
I’ve fractured my wrist before and it was REALLY painful.”
“It does hurt quite a lot. But mostly I’m just tired. I’m
just like, lying on my sofa.”
“I bet. Well, bye.”
“Bye.”
“See you tomorrow!”
“Ana, wait!” I cried. “We need to decide when to go into
the gym and search your coach’s things.”
“Oh, can’t we just forget that? It really doesn’t matter,
anyway.”
“It does. You just don’t think it does.” I heard a faint
voice calling Ana’s voice in the background.
“Well can we talk about this tomorrow? ‘Cause I really
have to go now.”
“Ok. Bye”.
“Bye”. I hung up, discouraged. Why was Ana always so
stubborn? Didn’t she want to find out what made her coach lose his earnings?
And now there was another downside. I was B-O-R-E-D! Not that THAT really fit
in with this but…… “Ana! It was Alex, from the doorway. Mom sent you this fan.
She said the leg inside the cast will start itching soon and the fan will
help.”
Oh, mom. My mom was a nurse and always knew what to do
for any health situation.
“Well, ok. It might.”
“Which it will. When I broke my foot last fall, it itched
a LOT during the night.” Being a gymnast, Alex had had lots of experience with
casts and boots and things like that.
“Anyway, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” And with that, she left.
Sighing, I turned on the TV, flipping the channels.
Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
Boring. Boring. Wait, here was a familiar voice. It was Tim Daggett, the
announcer for NBC’s gymnastics. “What competition is this?” I said out loud.
Hmm. It looked like…. The Pan American Games? “I didn’t know this was on.” I
looked and I looked and I didn’t see any bars, beam or vault. All there was was
a big floor mat.
I hobbled into the living room. Alex was sitting there,
watching a movie.
“Hey Alex, was there a gymnastics competition tonight?”
“What? Oh well the Rhythmic gymnastics for Pan Ams is
tonight.”
“REALLY?” I have to watch this!” I bolted as fast as I
could back in to my room where the tv was still on. “And here we have Julie
Zetlin of America. Now this young lady went to the London Olympics last year.
She was the only representative of the USA for Rhythmic Gymnastics at the
Games,” the announcer was saying. Olympian??? I almost fainted for the second
time that day. I watched, enthralled, until midnight, for there was a
“Post-game show” afterwards, with interviews with the athletes and replays.
“Kerry! You should in bed, sleeping!”
You can probably guess who this was. “Ok mom. I just want to finish watching
this competition. They’re having a Post-Game show.”
“Well, if it goes to late turn it off.”
“They’re almost done.”
“Good!” She left the room.
“So we’ll see the Artistic Gymnastics, tomorrow night
7:30pm Eastern Time. We wish you all Good Night.” I switched off the tv. I sank down in my soft bed and……. I …….
Fell…….. asleep.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Good Morning!
This haiku was inspired by my yard:
the golden circle
peeps over the dewy grass
a rooster is heard
the golden circle
peeps over the dewy grass
a rooster is heard
Monday, April 15, 2013
Robert Frost
I am posting a bio on Robert Frost. I know, I have not posted in like, weeks, BUT: I'm just busy.... I know I always give that excuse, but what else can I say?
Anyway, Robert Frost, one of my fave poets.
Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.
In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, who became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy's Will and North of Boston, and his reputation was established. By the nineteen-twenties, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (1923), A Further Range (1936), Steeple Bush (1947), and In the Clearing (1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased.
Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England, and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time, Frost is anything but a merely regional or minor poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.
In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost's early work as "the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world," and comments on Frost's career as The American Bard: "He became a national celebrity, our nearly official Poet Laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain."
About Frost, President John F. Kennedy said, "He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."
Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192#sthash.9FX6mUAw.dpuf
Anyway, Robert Frost, one of my fave poets.
Robert Lee Frost was born in San Francisco, and after his fathers
death in 1885, he moved with his family to Lawrence, Massachusetts,
where he became interested in reading and writing poetry while in high
school. Frost attended Dartmouth College and Harvard University, but
never received a degree. He was a jack of all trades, and had many
different occupations after leaving school, including a teacher, a
cobbler, and an editor of the local newspaper, the "Lawrence Sentinel".
His first published poem was "My Butterfly: An Elegy"
in the New York literary journal "The Independent" in 1894. A year
later he married Elinor Miriam White, with whom he shared valedictorian
honours with at his Massachusetts High School.
In the following years, he operated a farm in Derry, New Hampshire, and taught at Derry's Pinkerton Academy. In 1912, he sold his farm and moved his family to England, where he could devote himself entirely to his writing. His efforts to establish himself in England were immediately successful, and in 1913 he published "A Boy's Will", followed a year later by "North of Boston". It was in England where he met and was influenced by such poets at Rupert Brooke and Robert Graves, and where he established his life-long friendship with Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
Frost returned to the United states in 1915, and by the 1920's, he was the most celebrated poet in North America, and was granted four Pulitzer Prizes. Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died on January 29, 1963 in Boston.
And here's my favorite poem by him.......Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy evening. (Very famous poem!)
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
In the following years, he operated a farm in Derry, New Hampshire, and taught at Derry's Pinkerton Academy. In 1912, he sold his farm and moved his family to England, where he could devote himself entirely to his writing. His efforts to establish himself in England were immediately successful, and in 1913 he published "A Boy's Will", followed a year later by "North of Boston". It was in England where he met and was influenced by such poets at Rupert Brooke and Robert Graves, and where he established his life-long friendship with Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
Frost returned to the United states in 1915, and by the 1920's, he was the most celebrated poet in North America, and was granted four Pulitzer Prizes. Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died on January 29, 1963 in Boston.
And here's my favorite poem by him.......Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy evening. (Very famous poem!)
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of the easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
 |
|
|
|
Robert Frost
Robert Frost was born in San Francisco on March 26, 1874. He moved to New England at the age of eleven and became interested in reading and writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, Massachusetts. He was enrolled at Dartmouth College in 1892, and later at Harvard, though he never earned a formal degree.Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.
In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, who became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy's Will and North of Boston, and his reputation was established. By the nineteen-twenties, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (1923), A Further Range (1936), Steeple Bush (1947), and In the Clearing (1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased.
Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England, and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time, Frost is anything but a merely regional or minor poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.
In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost's early work as "the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world," and comments on Frost's career as The American Bard: "He became a national celebrity, our nearly official Poet Laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain."
About Frost, President John F. Kennedy said, "He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."
Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192#sthash.9FX6mUAw.dpuf
Robert
Frost was born in San Francisco on March 26, 1874. He moved to New
England at the age of eleven and became interested in reading and
writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, Massachusetts.
He was enrolled at Dartmouth College in 1892, and later at Harvard,
though he never earned a formal degree.
Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.
In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, who became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy's Will and North of Boston, and his reputation was established. By the nineteen-twenties, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (1923), A Further Range (1936), Steeple Bush (1947), and In the Clearing (1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased.
Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England, and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time, Frost is anything but a merely regional or minor poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.
In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost's early work as "the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world," and comments on Frost's career as The American Bard: "He became a national celebrity, our nearly official Poet Laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain."
About Frost, President John F. Kennedy said, "He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."
Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192#sthash.9FX6mUAw.dpuf
Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.
In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, who became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy's Will and North of Boston, and his reputation was established. By the nineteen-twenties, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (1923), A Further Range (1936), Steeple Bush (1947), and In the Clearing (1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased.
Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England, and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time, Frost is anything but a merely regional or minor poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.
In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost's early work as "the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world," and comments on Frost's career as The American Bard: "He became a national celebrity, our nearly official Poet Laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain."
About Frost, President John F. Kennedy said, "He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."
Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192#sthash.9FX6mUAw.dpuf
Robert
Frost was born in San Francisco on March 26, 1874. He moved to New
England at the age of eleven and became interested in reading and
writing poetry during his high school years in Lawrence, Massachusetts.
He was enrolled at Dartmouth College in 1892, and later at Harvard,
though he never earned a formal degree.
Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.
In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, who became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy's Will and North of Boston, and his reputation was established. By the nineteen-twenties, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (1923), A Further Range (1936), Steeple Bush (1947), and In the Clearing (1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased.
Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England, and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time, Frost is anything but a merely regional or minor poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.
In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost's early work as "the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world," and comments on Frost's career as The American Bard: "He became a national celebrity, our nearly official Poet Laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain."
About Frost, President John F. Kennedy said, "He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."
Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192#sthash.9FX6mUAw.dpuf
Frost drifted through a string of occupations after leaving school, working as a teacher, cobbler, and editor of the Lawrence Sentinel. His first professional poem, "My Butterfly," was published on November 8, 1894, in the New York newspaper The Independent.
In 1895, Frost married Elinor Miriam White, who became a major inspiration in his poetry until her death in 1938. The couple moved to England in 1912, after their New Hampshire farm failed, and it was abroad that Frost met and was influenced by such contemporary British poets as Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke, and Robert Graves. While in England, Frost also established a friendship with the poet Ezra Pound, who helped to promote and publish his work.
By the time Frost returned to the United States in 1915, he had published two full-length collections, A Boy's Will and North of Boston, and his reputation was established. By the nineteen-twenties, he was the most celebrated poet in America, and with each new book—including New Hampshire (1923), A Further Range (1936), Steeple Bush (1947), and In the Clearing (1962)—his fame and honors (including four Pulitzer Prizes) increased.
Though his work is principally associated with the life and landscape of New England, and though he was a poet of traditional verse forms and metrics who remained steadfastly aloof from the poetic movements and fashions of his time, Frost is anything but a merely regional or minor poet. The author of searching and often dark meditations on universal themes, he is a quintessentially modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits, and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.
In a 1970 review of The Poetry of Robert Frost, the poet Daniel Hoffman describes Frost's early work as "the Puritan ethic turned astonishingly lyrical and enabled to say out loud the sources of its own delight in the world," and comments on Frost's career as The American Bard: "He became a national celebrity, our nearly official Poet Laureate, and a great performer in the tradition of that earlier master of the literary vernacular, Mark Twain."
About Frost, President John F. Kennedy said, "He has bequeathed his nation a body of imperishable verse from which Americans will forever gain joy and understanding."
Robert Frost lived and taught for many years in Massachusetts and Vermont, and died in Boston on January 29, 1963.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/192#sthash.9FX6mUAw.dpuf
Thursday, March 7, 2013
The Gym by Night part 5(Finally!)
Sabrina helped me learn front and back walkovers,
handstands, back handsprings, and even a front flip. (I never did land it!) Rhythmic
gymnasts have to be flexible.
“Never do gymnastics if you don’t have an experienced
gymnast of coach with you, because you can get seriously injured.”
“Ok!”
“Try getting up on the beam,” Sabrina said, “You’ll be
really wobbly at first, but once you get used to it, it’s easy.” I climbed onto
the beam and tried to stand up. “Whoa!” I said, as I lost my balance and nearly
fell off. I looked around the gym. I saw Alex laughing at me. She tapped Ana on
the shoulder and pointed at me. I looked away.
Then I saw it: two girls carrying hoops and ribbons walked through the
gym and into a door that said: “SMALL GYM”. “What’s in there?”, I asked.
“Oh, that’s just where the Rhythmic gymnasts practice.”
“Can I go in there for a sec?”
“Sure.”
I trotted over to the SMALL GYM door and went in. I saw Rhythmic
gymnasts practicing everywhere I looked. A short lady with a tight bun sauntered
over to me.
“What do you want?”
“Ummm….. I-err- I want to learn Rhythmic Gymnastics.”
“Ummm….. I-err- I want to learn Rhythmic Gymnastics.”
“Any prior experience?”
“Yes I can do lots of skills, and my sister Alex is a Level
10 Artistic Gymnast.”
“Is it all right with your Mother?”
“Yes she told me to come here with Alex and meet the
Coach.” The woman remained motionless. I stood, waiting for her to go get the
Coach. I studied her. She had thick salt-and-pepper colored hair, dark brown
eyes, and a firm chin. She was wearing a long black skirt and blazer. Just
then, a girl in a sparkly yellow leo bounded up to us. She looked out of breath
from the energetic training. “Hey,” She said to the lady, “Can you come help me
for a minute?”
“Yes. I’ll be right over.” She turned to me. “I’m Coach
Ksenia. I was all-around Gold medalist at the 1979 Worlds for Russia.”
“You-you-you’re the Coach?” I had been picturing someone
young and energetic, with a colorful Warm-up Suit.
“Yes! Now I have
to go help Nicole.” And with that, she turned on her heel and left. And then I
remembered: This was Wednesday. I looked at the clock above the door. It was almost
9:30. Ana had told me to be there at 9:15. YIKES!
I quickly retreated back to the main gym. Ana was still working in the huge
beam area, so I was safe. I passed the time by strolling around the artistic
gymnastics section.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder.
“Caroline Eugenie!” I jumped. It was only Alex, trying to
scare me.
“Alexandria Beatrice! What is it?, I exclaimed.
But my twin had vanished. I decided to try out some of
the skills Sabrina had taught me on the floor mat. To me, the coolest looking
thing was the back handspring. I jumped back, and TA DA! I did it! I tried
several more times, doing better each time. I tried again. I jumped back,
landed on my arms, and CRACK! I found myself sprawled on the mat, holding my
wrist.
“OWWWW…….” Coach Chip came running over with Ana and Alex
close behind.
I heard people chattering excitedly above me.
Coach Chip: “Do any of you know who this is?”
Alex: “She’s my sister and I think she just started
gymnastics.”
Ana: “Kerry, are you all right?”
I felt myself being carried out by 2 men. I heard Alex
talking on the phone to my mom (presumably)
Then all went black.
Monday, March 4, 2013
New post finally!!!
So as you know, this blog is all about poetry. Unfortunately, I am a really busy person, so I can't post to often:( Please, stick with me!!
Anyway, I was writing poetry today, and I wrote this one called Music. I just thought I'd share it with you:)
Music
Black and white notes
Dancing across the page
Eighth note and sixteenth notes
played like lightning
A wave of applause as the
pianist comes out.
Then all is silent as the pianist
sits down.
He dusts his hands, and lowers
the bench, then he carefully
places his hands on the keys.
He presses them down and the music begins.
Bye!!!!!
Louisa
Anyway, I was writing poetry today, and I wrote this one called Music. I just thought I'd share it with you:)
Music
Black and white notes
Dancing across the page
Eighth note and sixteenth notes
played like lightning
A wave of applause as the
pianist comes out.
Then all is silent as the pianist
sits down.
He dusts his hands, and lowers
the bench, then he carefully
places his hands on the keys.
He presses them down and the music begins.
Bye!!!!!
Louisa
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
It's been so long...
Hello! It's been soooo long since I've made a poetry post, so I'll just show you my recent poems. All of these are written by me. Did I mention that I love to write poetry?
Texas February Mornings
Cinquain
Winter
Mornings: Texas
Freezing! 30 degrees!
Below zero? No way! Think of...
Iceland!
Math
Senryu
Math, I detest it.
Fractions, Decimals, Square Roots
Plus signs everywhere
The fate of Spring
Limerick
There once was a baby named Spring,
Who wanted to go see the King.
So she sent him a letter,
asking "Please, would he let her?"
But the king said "No, You poor thing!"
Hope you like them!! (I know they aren't great) :(
Louisa
Texas February Mornings
Cinquain
Winter
Mornings: Texas
Freezing! 30 degrees!
Below zero? No way! Think of...
Iceland!
Math
Senryu
Math, I detest it.
Fractions, Decimals, Square Roots
Plus signs everywhere
The fate of Spring
Limerick
There once was a baby named Spring,
Who wanted to go see the King.
So she sent him a letter,
asking "Please, would he let her?"
But the king said "No, You poor thing!"
Hope you like them!! (I know they aren't great) :(
Louisa
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