I signed up for Writing 201: Poetry.
Yes, Margaret Rose, I know I’m mad.
If you have been reading here at Mary J Melange, you know I occasionally poke an amateur finger at poetry. Much like writing itself, I have not studied this art in detail. I fly by the seat of my fleece-lined long underwear and shoddy black beret. Starting today, I am engaged in two weeks of poetry lessons and writing thanks to Ben and Denise at Word Press.
What’s in it for you, dear readers? You will benefit (*fingers crossed*) from the flowery words flowing off the tongue of a Dickinson and Browning wannabe or the Dr. Suess inspired nonsense of a child in an adult’s body. You may read a post every day, you may not. Time is my constraint, but I shall do my best to keep you entertained in a regular, poetic fashion.
Are you ready?
Today, let’s write a poem about water. And/or a haiku. And/or use a simile.
They glare out at me
Yelling the span of an age
Demons of cold gray
The bottles soon mix
Cream white and liquid golden
Towel, gloves, ready
Shake with meaning, squeeze, cover
Wait, wait longer, then warm rain
Dark water plummets
Like chocolate red leaves to earth
Gray strands are absent