Hi everyone,
Continuing with the conversation from yesterday about odd places to write: Our invasive raccoon is, I now know, inside the attic. I decided that yesterday morning while I sat on the back step from 4:30 – 5:30 listening to the gnawing without catching a glimpse of the culprit. I figured it’s a pregnant female, which might explain her cravings for wood every morning at 4:30. (Renee, if you read this, don’t get any ideas. Stick with peanut butter.) With nothing better to do, I composed the first verse and elements of his poem.
The Back Step
My pj’s I am wearing on the back step.
It’s dark so not so daring on the back step.
I’m craning up and glaring on the back step.
My temper’s close to swearing on the back step.
I hear the varmint chewing from the back step
And wonder what she’s doing from the back step.
Her gnawing has me rueing from the back step.
I’m failing with my shooing from the back step.
I’m slowly realizing from the back step
There’ll be no compromising from the back step.
I know I’m moralizing from the back step,
But I’m seriously despising from the back step.
Her kids, she’ll never show ‘em on the back step.
I know she’ll never grow ‘em on the back step.
I know I’ll never know ‘em on the back step.
Guess I’ll write a poem on the back step.
P.S. While preparing this post I discovered that she’s already had her babies and stashed them above our utility room ceiling. I can hear them squalling when I enter the room. No more Mr. Nice Guy. This is war!
Children's Author David L. Harrison's Blog 
It’s War! Says the Man
He’s getting up his dander on the back step.
He is the house commander on the back step.
He’s throwing out his candor on the back step.
He’s going to back hand her on the back step.
His ire it is rising on the back step.
His anger’s not surprising on the back step.
The foe he’s exorcising on the back step.
His mantra he’s reprising on the back step.
Tomorrow, he is thinking on the back step.
Tomorrow, courage sinking on the back step.
Tomorrow, anger shrinking on the back step.
Tomorrow, coffee drinking on the back step.
xxxJane PS Love the form, does it have a name????
Thanks, Jane. I (and my back step) are delighted! I don’t know if this is a named form; haven’t tried to fine it anywhere else yet. It seemed logical as I began forming lines in my mind so I went with it. Maybe someone will provide information about a history of the form. XO!
Jane, I’ve spent a while poking around but haven’t had much luck. I would define the lines here as 4 iambic feet followed by 1 bacchius foot: da DA da DA da DA da DA da DA DA. You could call it an iambic pentameter line with an additional beat at the end. As for repeating the same fixed ending in every line, I don’t see anything like it yet. It’s not what I think of as a refrain although I suppose one might call it a form of it. The use of four 4-line stanzas was arbitrary but felt right. I liked your three stanza poem just as well. I’m sure I could come up with some sort of beginning/middle/ending requirement with a little bit of fiddling. I welcome other thoughts about it.
David, dear, did I not describe just this scenario two days ago? A professional trapper is definitely called for plus someone to close up mother coon’s way in and out, first making sure she and ALL babies are out. Expensive perhaps, but worth it. With much love from an experienced raccoon victim. P