Hello Poets!
Do you know that one of my more fascinating traits is getting stuck in serious mode? Oooof! It's truly an old schoolmarm demeanor that takes over my whole self. People I adore have tried to jolly me out of it my whole life (for some reason that makes it worse). It's not until I realize that I'm stuck that I can start to work out of too-serious-mode.
One of the best things about poetry, for me, is play! I love to take two or more poems and mash them together in interesting combinations. This form of poetry is called cento.
Here are some playful mash-ups from my December journal...
The Owl and Pussycat at Christmas
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
in a beautiful pea-green boat,
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day in the morning
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
wrapped up in a five-pound note.
And what was in those ships all three
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
and sang to a small guitar,
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day in the morning
I Saw Three Ships from lyricfind
The Owl and the Pussycat by Edward Lear
Source: The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (1983)
Playing with Anne Sexton's Just Once
I'm dreaming tonight of a place I love
Just once I knew what life was for.
In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood:
Even more than I usually do
Walked there along the Charles River,
watched the lights copying themselves,
all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening
their mouths as wide as opera singers;
And although I know it's a long road back
I promise you
counted the stars, my little campaigners,
My scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love
On the night green side of it and cried
my heart to the eastbound cars and cried
my heart to the westbound cars and took
I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
my truth across a small humped bridge
and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents under the tree
and hoarded these constants into morning
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
only to find them gone.
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams.
I'll be Home for Christmas Source: Musixmatch
Anne Sexton's Just Once source: https://allpoetry.com/Just-Once
I hope you are finding some fun in this holiday season...joy can be infectious!
Add your poetry links to your comments below and have fun reading some poetry over the weekend.
Thanks for being patient during my jolly holly activities -- delaying my round-up hostess duties! There are a big bunch of poems to savor from this week's offerings. Enjoy!
Mary Lee has written a gorgeous golden shovel that puts her in great conversation with Miss Dickinson
Jama entices with a question that MUST be answered with NO!
Alan offers two delightful poems packed with pretty words and their origins
Michelle has popped in from her busy teaching schedule with a delightful squirrel poem
Jane is still a mystery to me as I can't get her link to work yet. Jane, can you repost your link? please
Tabatha considers altruism and bravery. She invites new poems from us all for a new collection
Jan is my hero for gratitude and playful poetry--those lub-a-dubs!
Margaret somehow makes poem making look effortless as she composes on the fly
Cat tried to be anonymous...but she's now too famous! Short poem from her :)
Marci brings us memories of legendary Nikki Giovanni...missing that lady already!
Jone is also remembering Giovanni and inviting us all to a Postcard Swap (do it!)
Tricia is having fun with this year's poetry swap :)
Matt is keeping up his publishing pace with the last anthology news of 2024. Go, Matt, Go!
Linda B. is recommending a lovely book that led her to poeming about the moon and stories
Rose is inspired by Write Bites
Heidi is also remembering beloved Nikki Giovanni...let's swing on rainbows with her
Irene is sharing snow pie!
Amy has snow! Yippee!
Carol V. takes a lesson from Kenn Nesbitt's poetry for a wonderful Santa poem
Molly asks a wonderful, wistful question...'What Shall I Pack in the Box Marked Winter?'