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Post by Sherry Thrasher on May 21, 2008 21:20:13 GMT -5
We slip through childhood,
twinkie fingers holding tight,
a white-knuckled night --
three girls singing
simple songs
as Daddy watches on.
We play, play together --
Our bearded yard
curls with laughter.
Christmas flurries
sweep imaginations
covered in frost.
*Authors Note: Poetry writing class assignment. Prompt to cut 10 words from and existing paragraph and to form those words into a poem. This is written as a recollection of a snowy winter night in Roebuck, Alabama where my sisters Leigh Ann, Kim and I raced down our driveway in a blue plastic laundry basket.*
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on May 21, 2008 21:52:49 GMT -5
Sherry, your current growth is astounded. Very well done. Love the twinky fingers. I have some dazzle shorts on.  |
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Post by Sherry Thrasher on May 21, 2008 22:01:00 GMT -5
she silently prays that they are carolina blue... D-ber, I am in two of Chris Salerno's poetry classes right now and will start Shakespeare in a few weeks. I do hope to write that sonnet one day. Thanks for your kind compliment. 
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Vasile Baghiu
EP Gold 1000 Posts Plus
EP Word Master
poetry is rather a matter of life than art
Posts: 1,385
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Post by Vasile Baghiu on May 22, 2008 1:06:47 GMT -5
It says more than it does, and I think this is one of the poetry's features. Fine piece, Sherry!
Vasile
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Post by mfwilkie on May 22, 2008 18:45:05 GMT -5
Sherrry-Berry,
I keep reading this and coming back to your ending as an opening.
Lots of good stuff to work with when you revisit this.
Here's a thought for tightening.
Tonight,
white-knuckled, twinkie fingers hold tight
to Christmas carols covered in frost.
Under a chalky sky our Daddy watches time
slipping through his hands as his girls sweep
curls of imagination across a bearded lawn.
I was thinking, too, Sher, you might use the number 'three' in the title rather than in the body of the poem.
Nice imagery.
Magpie
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Post by Sherry Thrasher on May 22, 2008 22:13:50 GMT -5
Thanks, Magpie. This needs work and I'm letting it simmer.
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Post by Ron Wallace (Scotshawk) on May 29, 2008 16:40:56 GMT -5
Honestly, I've read this both ways now several times, and I can't make a call. I like Maggie's idea for moving the closing to the opening, but I like it just as well as it is. I suppose that makes it a winner either way.
I really like the esoteric title, the simple date, 1968. It just feels right to me. Very nice, Sherry, very well conceived images. Ron
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Post by LynnDoiron on May 29, 2008 17:16:53 GMT -5
(First Revision)
1968
Christmas carols covered in frost;
flurries sweep our imaginations.
Bearded yards curl with laughter,
we play, play together-
Chalky skies glance downward
as Daddy watches on;
three girls sing simple songs.
Tonight, white-knuckled,
twinkie fingers hold tight
as we slip through childhood.
Sherry -- I think I missed this one the first time around. I like the "notion" of it, but (for me) seems disjointed, or, less smooth than it perhaps could be ... ? Because your original had an author's note re: class assignment, hope you won't mind me experimenting, just a bit. But, you know the "reversal" poem exercises I sometimes try my hand at? What if you reversed the order on this one? Not word by word, but the line order, as in:
1968
as we We slip through childhood,
twinkie fingers holding tight,
Tonight, a white-knuckled night --
three girls singing simple songs
as Daddy watches on.
Chalky skies glance downward
We play, play together --
bearded yards curl with our laughter.
Flurries sweep our imaginations.
Christmas c Carols covered in frost.
[See what I mean? Leaves on a bittersweet note; you may not want that (or any of my twiddles). Other than nixing the sky glancing down (would rather have the sisters look up, keep it in the human rather than giving sky human characteristic of sight), most of the lines are pretty much as you wrote them with slight word variations. Just something for you to consider ...]
lynn
p.s. on 2nd thought I wouldn't strike Christmas, or, if I did, would put in some substitute or rearrange wording; line now seems a beat short somehow. Sorry!
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Post by mfwilkie on May 30, 2008 9:32:57 GMT -5
A thought on this stanza, Sherry.
Christmas flurries
sweep imaginations
covered in frost.
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Post by Sherry Thrasher on May 30, 2008 9:46:47 GMT -5
Much better. Thanks, Magpie.
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Post by Ron Wallace (Scotshawk) on May 30, 2008 15:10:18 GMT -5
It's always good when the work has such a strong body that you can't go wrong with it. I really like the way this has turned out. The original was solid, but this is even better. Love the images and I hear the voice so plainly. Ron
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Ken_Nye
EP 500 Posts Plus
EP Word Master and Published Member
Posts: 646
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Post by Ken_Nye on May 31, 2008 21:35:01 GMT -5
Sherry, I'm coming to this poem after a lengthy hiatus from EP, and I have really enjoyed reading and seeing the development of this poem in just one reading. Terrific cooperative spirit in these posts.Wonderful little poem to serve as the cadaver. But you end up with a handsome prince of a poem. I love the tone of your reverie.
Ken
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