Adult “W.O.M.” Poems

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!


PS: The word for a June is SEEDS.

48 comments on “Adult “W.O.M.” Poems

  1. I have no idea, Linda!!!! I can’t begin to understand how this whole page could be wiped clean. For me, once a month when I delete everything to make way for the new series of poems, it’s slow work that is done one poem or comment at a time. For this to happen on it’s own? I haven’t a clue! I’ll seek help from Word Press. It’s all I know to do. Meantime, if you still have your poem, please repost it and we’ll do the best we can to reconstructive this months roster. So sorry!

  2. My friend the old man next door

    Mr. Strain lived in the boarding house next door
    two rooms on side with a porch looking out
    one door and window on first floor
    growing up next to where he lived I know

    He had three burner gas stove with a little cook top
    stove had a small oven he used
    to bake apple pies
    Outside a cylinder gas tank copper line fed stove
    I would worry it might explode
    when his match flamed burners whiff pop
    watched with my big eyes

    In yard out his door was small apple tree grove
    Mr. Strain cooked those apples
    I would watch him peel them
    with his two blade pocket knife
    Throwing away seeds core and stem
    then he would cook them
    and offer me a bite

    He was fine to live this way
    kitchen was lighted by an open bulb light
    could see his shadow when he sat out on porch at night
    never heard him complain he would just say
    Joe, you want some fried apples
    I made them today

    I know he was poor and slim
    but every apple I eat to core
    reminds me of Mr. Strain still
    standing in his door
    inviting me to eat apples with him

    William Joe Pyles

  3. The Tomato King

    He was armed, salt shaker in his back
    pocket, on a pre-dinner mission
    for his mom. He started at the end
    of the row, picking carefully,

    being choosy. The scent of the stem
    being separated from the fruit,
    unmistakeable. Pull out the salt shaker,
    lick, take a bite.

    Oh the feel of the piercing
    of the flesh against his teeth,
    sinking deeply, taking that first bite.
    Down the row he went,

    a little less picky this time,
    pick, lick, salt, bite. Seeds escaping
    over his tanned fingers. To the next
    plant. This was a nice crop.

    An especially nice crop. Step,
    next plant, one tomato in the basket,
    another one in the boy. Pick two,
    eat one, pick one, eat two. Eat three.

    The seeds, dripping down
    His red checkered shirt,
    barely noticeable,, except where
    It stained the white squares.

    He ended the row basket and belly full.
    Dinner was on time, tomatoes
    Enough to fill, satisfied.

    copyright Linda Trott Dickman

  4. The seeds
    see the nucleus
    the nucleus the
    the cell sees the
    of spirit energy
    origin of
    the circle of
    the beating of

    all rights
    Jeanne Poland

  5. Word of the month
    June 2022 WORD: SEEDS

    Janet Kay Gallagher

    I drive us down the road
    Betty Jo, Carolyn and I
    I see dandelions
    And say, “see the beautiful flowers.”

    Carolyn says, “Weeds, weeds, weeds.”
    I say, “Flowers.”
    This goes several rounds
    Betty Jo rolls her eyes at us

    I see flowers
    Carolyn sees weeds
    We laugh as we go along
    Betty Jo sees her friends being silly

    If it weren’t for seeds
    We’d have no flowers
    Or Weeds
    What fun we would miss

  6. Vagabond
    By Linda Boyden©2022

    They sprouted in mystery.
    Two solitary seeds fell
    on rock-encrusted soil
    beyond the sprinkler’s swell.

    Without any tender toil,
    one perished and the other
    grew from possibility
    into reality, first a leaf then two,
    thrived among lesser weeds;
    flourished through the nights,
    a lofty vagabond that seemed
    immune to drought or blight,
    defied the odds and grew.

    I stand apart and gaze
    at the wonder of its grace.

  7. Our friend, Bryn Strudwick, continues to be blocked for reasons I still haven’t figured out. I’m grateful to Bryn for his patience while he waits and writes. Here is his June poem. Thank you, Bryn!

    (An Acrostic)

    Something magical happens every year,
    Under the bird table I built out here.
    Not from something that I do,
    Food for the wild-life holds the clue.
    Loading his beak too full through greed,
    One sparrow drops a sunflower seed,
    Whereupon it takes root where it lies.
    Every day I watch it rise,
    Reaching up towards the skies.

    by Bryn Strudwick

  8. Planting Seeds
    Create life and beauty
    Flowers to watch for hours and smell
    Blown everywhere
    Dropped anywhere to share
    Stay in one place, sprout and grow
    So many ideas

    • Robin Williams
      Your poem reminded me of a packet in clear plastic that I found. Only a few seeds. I didn’t know what kind they were. When planted I still wondered if they would grow and what they would be. Finally, a beautiful rose-colored flower. Then I remembered who gave them to me and had another beautiful time of remembrance of someone gone long ago. Thanks for bringing those thought back to me.

  9. I want to thank all of you who write and read here.
    Words open our hearts to the beauty that surrounds us and the people who touch our lives. So many times, the words I read here will spark a thought and remind me of a time long forgotten. Thanks for sharing life with me. Be Happy.

  10. A New Beginning

    Life can be challenging
    In many different ways
    We all make choices
    Which our future displays.
    Sometimes we are lucky
    If someone plants a seed
    Creating a new vision
    From which our soul can feed.

    Toni Newell 13th June, 2022.


    Tender fresh leaflets,
    offspring of promise hope and gold dreams
    basking in sunny June breezes,
    how sad chagrined torn up you must feel―
    to be, in one bunny-brief moment, sniff-sniffed and cut down

    Nevermore to grow tall and turn toward the sun
    never to bow petal-fringed faces, heavy laden with seed
    never to giggle at goldfinch’s soft perch and plucking firm beaks
    never to feel the tickle of butterflies and buzzing bees, sipping nectar-full wells
    never to bliss along to sparrows’ summer sweet songs

    How sad chagrined torn up we do feel―
    bees butterflies birds and most of all―me―
    my heart’s awash rippling with emotion

    As Cottontail hops away, I visualize . . . glorious s u n f l o we r s
    l e a p i n g and b o u n d i n g free,
    seeing our beautiful world
    through bunny-gentle
    keen eyes

    s m i l e

    Cory Corrado (22/06/27) ©

  12. Still Green

    Eat half an avocado.
    Do not toss out the seed.
    Though you will not be eating it
    The seed is what you need

    To keep the fruit from turning brown.
    Nestle it in place,
    And then enjoy the other half
    Slowly at your pace.

    June, 2022

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