Poetry Month - Day 17: Bosk

Today's word, Bosk, came from a fellow author, B.J. Lee. Did you know that a bosk is "a small wood or thicket, especially of bushes?" I sure didn't. The only bosk I've heard of is Bosc pears :-) Guess what? There is no word that rhymes with bosk (except mosque, but I found that out after I wrote the poem. So, I kind of cheated a bit with the pronunciation. Here it is:

Bosk

If I were from England, I’d take her to “tosk”

for giving a hard-to-rhyme word, such as bosk!

If I were from England, I wouldn’t be “hoppy”

while wasting my time on a word that’s so “croppy”!

If I were from England, I’d be in a “ponic”

A bit like the passengers on the “Titonic”!

If I were from England, I’d need a long “nop”

‘Cause, I’d be asleep - it’s an eight hour “gop”!

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Poetry Month - Day 16: Juxtaposition

My sister, Mindy gave me the word Juxtaposition - thanks a lot! Seriously, Min - thanks a lot! I ended up really liking this poem - and it's about two sisters!

Juxtaposition

There we both stood in juxtaposition.

Each of us holding our own composition.

Because it was April, they’d asked us to write

a poem to read just for poetry night.

The judge would determine which poem he liked best,

and pin a blue ribbon on somebody’s chest.

Just two of us left, he had sent off the third.

We knew what to do, without saying a word.

My sister and I gave a wink to our mother,

then shuffled our pages between one another.

We chose not to tell who had written each verse.

‘Cause we stick together - for better or worse.

I wish you had seen the odd look on his face,

while pinning the prize on the girl in third place!

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Poetry Month - Day 15: Itinerant

Today's word, Itinerant, was suggested by my friend, Sibby! We're both Itinerant Teachers who work with students who are deaf or hard of hearing. After a long day at work, it was pretty easy to write this! I love being a hearing Itinerant and I love my students! I'm so lucky I get to work with kids from 3 - 18 year old! No classroom teacher has that wide a spectrum! This poem is dedicated to my fellow itinerants!!

Itinerant

I work as an itinerant.

I go from school to school.

It’s been a very lengthy stint

and I still think it’s cool!

My sons say I don’t really teach,

since I don’t have a class.

And that’s when I begin my speech

in answer to their sass.

I teach my students many skills

to help them do their best.

My lessons aren’t just boring drills,

to which they will attest.

It helps to have a specialist

who’s always on their side.

Who makes sure they are not dismissed;

their hearing needs denied.

An advocate who fights for them

and leads them toward success.

Who turns a rock into a gem -

and settles for no less.

So, maybe I work one-on-one

instead of with a class.

I think my job is lots of fun.

In fact, my job kicks ___!

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Poetry Month - Day 14: Yurt, Periwinkle, Spumoni & Breve

Last week, a FB friend suggested not one - not two - not even three - but four words for me to use! I thought I'd pick the one I liked best (aka: the easiest to rhyme), but, since it's Sunday, I knew I'd have more time to work on it, so I used all four. It's not my best poem, but I'm kind of proud of myself for working in all four in a fairly cohesive poem.

Yurt, Periwinkle, Spumoni, Breve

I spent the day in a yurt.

I figured, it couldn’t hurt.

It’s a shade of periwinkle,

and has canvas sides that crinkle

I dined on macaroni,

which tasted like spumoni,

and was shaped, I do believe,

like the grammar mark, the "breve".

Then I wrote a poem that’s merry,

using words from my friend Cherie.

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Poetry Month - Day 13: Nihilist

Ok, when you're given the word, Nihilist (thanks a lot, Linda), it's really hard to be funny - so, I got a little deep on this one! I'm a non-religious person and always thought of myself as non-spiritual, until I started researching nihilists to write this poem. Now I think, compared to a nihilist, I'm Mother Theresa!!

Nihilist

Henry was a nihilist

who longed to make a change.

And so he hired a stylist,

which seemed a little strange.

He got a re-do, “Oprah style”,

from shoes up to his hair.

But still, behind his brand new smile,

poor Henry didn’t care.

The stylist took a different tack

and worked on Henry’s mind.

He filled his head with lots of facts.

Still, Henry was unkind.

Then, just before he called it quits

he thought of something smart:

to pull up Henry from the pits,

he’d have to reach his heart!

The stylist taught him how to “see”;

to redefine his scope.

And that’s how Henry came to be

a man with new-found hope

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