Tag: National Poetry Writing Month

Tuesday Poem

Tuesday’s child,

Full of grace

Excluded from

Beauty,

Saved from

Woe, by two

Dozen hours

Or so.

Fickle time

Declares which

Gifts might be 

Bestowed, 

Based on a stroke

Of luck or the

Hands of a

Clock.

Tick tock.

  

As a child this poem always bothered me. It seemed to put poor Wednesday at a disadvantage from birth, while Sunday got all the good stuff. Hardly fair!  Always interested in justice, that’s me. Oh, I was born on a Friday in case anyone’s keeping tabs.

Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace, Wednesday’s child is full of woe, Thursday’s child has far to go, Friday’s child is loving and giving, Saturday’s child works hard for a living, But the child who is born on the Sabbath day Is fair and wise and good in every way.

Peace, People!






Love-less Poem

April is National Poetry Writing Month, and today’s task called for me to write a love poem without using the word “love” or employing any of the phrases associated with love poems. 

His butt looks kind of perfect

Wrapped in that turquoise 

 Towel.

I mean it’s not a work of

Art or anything, but it’s the

Part of him I watch when

He leaves our bed to

Shower.

His eyes could be a deeper

Shade of green, 

I suppose,

Though I doubt they could

Twinkle any more than they

Already do.

He never brings me

Breakfast in bed, and

Seldom sends me

Flowers.

I should probably

Divorce him over those

Lapses, but he cries at

Sappy movies, and

Would probably 

Cry if I left.

I know I would if the

Situation were

Reversed.