Poetry Month

I have always loved poetry!  When I was young, my aunt gave me the book, “Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle (Put Up One Summer by Felicity)” and there was hardly a poem in there I didn’t love.  Somewhere along the line I lost the book – but the miracle of the internet and online shopping put it back in my hands a few years ago.  I still love the poems in there – some even more now.  The poems are mostly light and humorous, but there were some heavy and meaningful ones, as well.

I still have the book, “Now We Are Six” by A. A. Milne, which was given to me when I was six (by the same aunt) – and those poems are precious and fun as well.  It is a favorite gift for any six-year old in my life.  Such fun poetic stories about King John or The Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Thief.  And of course, Pooh.

I also still have the “Poetry Books” we created in 9th and 10th grades, probably for National Poetry Month.  They are construction paper covers with pictures cut-out from magazines and greeting cards taped on the typing paper.  No clip-art or fancy graphics available to me in 1985.  But the poems I included were from “Now We Are Six” and “Reflection on a Gift…”, as well as from teen magazines – those sappy love or friendship poems found at the back of the issue!  I wrote a few as well, including a few limericks.

Lately, the most interesting things I’ve written are a few haikus.  They are a lot of fun.  I have great memory of sitting outside on my deck on a hot Memorial Day weekend with my cousin (that aunt’s daughter) reading and writing haikus.  I think many of them are lost, but I still have the book that was the inspiration. I also still have several versions of magnetic poetry around – I just love words!

I lost a lot of books in the flood, but I am thankful for these favorites that were on a shelf high enough to be saved!

Here is a favorite from “Reflections..”  I hopefully will post more favorites in the month of April.  I just love poetry.  🙂

Well, off to read!

Advice to Travelers

by Walker Gibson

A burro once, sent by express,
His shipping ticket on his bridle,
Ate up his name and his address,
And in some warehouse, standing idle,
He waited till he like to died.
The moral hardly needs the showing:
Don’t keep things locked up deep inside —
Say who you are and where you’re going.