Each month this blog will feature a word of the month to stimulate a poem. Anyone who wishes to share a poem is invited to participate. The point is to enjoy the challenge of writing a poem inspired by a single word. It doesn’t matter if this is your first poem or five hundredth. It’s all done for the fun and exercise of writing.
Cutoff for posting the current Word of the Month poem is the last day of the month.
On the first day of each month, a new word will be posted to challenge your imagination for that month.
Please post your poems on this page, so everyone can find the poems easily.
Thank you and have fun!
David
PS: The word for June is SOUR.
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So the word for June is “sour”.
Please go to:
https://thevibrantchanneledcreator.wordpress.com/2018/06/03/sour/
to find mine.
Wonder where June’s WOM is today?
Here’s my Word of the Month poem for June inspired by our word: SOUR.
Chasing the Sour
Sour mood in that pretty head?
Honey, feed it sourdough bread.
Chase that mood that got you down.
Sourdough chase it out of town!
Take this cup of sourdough starter,
Add a cup and a half of water.
Child, this mood just ain’t your fault!
Mix with sugar, corn oil, salt.
Sift some flour till its right.
Oil your bowl, set overnight.
Tomorrow, kneed, divide in two.
Darling, this is good for you!
Let that dough just grow and grow,
Till pretty soon why don’t you know
It’s time to bake a golden brown.
And now what happened to that frown?
Sour mood in that pretty head?
Honey, feed it sourdough bread.
(c) 2018 by David L. Harrison, all rights reserved
Baking sourdough bread! This brings back so many memories. Thanks, Jeanne!
SWEET AND SOUR
Opposites attract, or so they say.
She was sweet and he was sour.
She was sparkling, he was dour;
He could sulk hour after hour,
She would smile day after day.
She, the eternal optimist,
Always saw the brighter side;
Life was one long pleasure ride,
An attitude that he decried.
He the eternal pessimist.
Tragedy just round the bend,
Was how he saw the way ahead.
Life’s a trial and then you’re dead,
Was the type of thing he said.
It got rather boring in the end.
Her view, on the other hand,
Was, each bend brings another view;
Fields of green and skies of blue,
New, exciting things to do.
A view he’d never understand.
So, opposites attract, and yet,
These are people, don’t forget;
Not magnets in a science set.
It could end up in deep regret.
How fortunate, they never met.
© Bryn Strudwick
What great fun, Bryn! Beautifully done. Many thanks.
You have the gift of rhythm and clever plots. Like the twist at the end too.
Thank you Jeanne. Flattery will get you everywhere!
This describes a former husband of mine! Nice character contrasts.
I sent this before BUT it seems to have gone missing:
Age Appropriate
No one warned me
that old age would sit
sour in the mouth,
A dusty touch,
as if each year
sucked away the sweet.
It changes the consistency
of food, makes chocolate
dry and uncomfortable.
And every bite of sorrow
tastes of sage
and a huge helping of rue.
©2018 Jane Yolen all rights reserve
Jane, you posted this one on my blog page on June 1, the day I announced this month’s word. Thanks again! XO
Very well done, as always. So many wonderful words that lead to the heart of aging.
I am back, feeling well enough to sit and write again after back surgery! I’ve missed writing, but now can get back to it.
Hope
By Linda Boyden ©2018
Told myself to stop going back,
reliving the past does no good.
Told myself: Let it go.
Dreams can die.
Many should.
Go ahead: bury your hopes
at the bottom of your heart
along with your soured
childish dreams:
digging to China
with a spoon;
riding the range as a cowgirl,
dancing like a fairy princess,
screaming lyrics like a rock star.
Freeze hope.
Cement it
in a dungeon.
Blast it to the dark side
of a dead planet,
let it die!
But Hope will always resurrect.
I can no more stop hope
than I can stop
the sunrise,
the rhythm of tides,
the laughter of babies.
Hope is that tiny thing
perched within my soul
that guides me into faith.
Linda, I love this, for it is part of my life’s story, I couldn’t write.
Sounds so familiar, Linda. Well said.
Wishing you a speedy recovery.
Balance of sweet/sour summer
Fresh sweet corn on the cob
Peach juice running down your chin
Briny pickles on your burger
Pucker up lemonade quenches thirst
Pops of sour cherries top it off
Kathy, your delicious images bring to life the taste of summer. Well done!
What is sour—
Losing your first spelling bee on the word w-a-t-r.
Dad calling me a dumb bunny after I hid the ice cream outside.
Spending 4 hours in the principle’s office on your fourth day of school.
Thinking I had only hours left with you before a diagnosis.
Seeing you at the hospital before the doctors stitched you back together.
—Becomes sweet over time and memory with a dash of forgiveness and a quart of laughter.
Janine Clark-Barry 2018©
Joyful and Sour
© Mary Nida Smith
Bird voices
Some are joyful
And some are not
Sweet or sour notes
Their voices announce
Spring has arrived
The sour taste of winter
Will soon be over
Bringing the joys of
Warmer weather
The season of planting
And playtime for families
Picnics, travels, and reunions,
Sour pickles, pickled beets,
Sucking on lemons and
Foods not so sweet, leaving
A sour taste, difficult to enjoy
But who cares, this is the
Neatness season of all
Mary, your poem reminds me of two sides of the same coin. Can’t have one without the other. But JOYFUL makes everything sweeter.
I could not resist posting these two short and ‘sweet’ SOUR poems:
TURN-OFFS
Sweet pleasant good-natured
Sourpusses are NOT.
Ill-tempered obnoxious
Grinch grumpy―the lot!
……………………………………….
THE POWER
Sourpusses possess the power of gloom―
A sunless disposition that clears ANY room.
© Cory Corrado (2018)
Cute Fruit
Neighbor’s crabapples
Blushing, firm, plump temptation
Cute fruit, but so SOUR!
© Karen Eastlund
Karen, how true! Your HAI’KUTE’ poem is so sweet even though the subject is sour.