My Word of the Month poem for April

Hi everyone,

Here is my offering for April. The word is GIRLS.

A Little Girl Is . . .

Daddy’s angel,
Mommy’s joy,
Brother’s brat –
But he’s a boy.

Granny’s love,
Pa’s sugar pie,
Brother’s pest –
But he’s a guy.

Auntie’s darling,
Uncle’s sugar,
Brother’s snot –
But he eats boogers.

But don’t try anything
Funny, mister.
He’s her brother!
She’s his sister!”

(c) David L. Harrison

The Word of the Month word for April is . . .

Hi everyone,

Wow! I don’t know where this week went! I showed up for work every day but don’t have a lot to show for it. I’ve been revising the same story but going into today I’ve only made it through forty pages. One small tweak begets others.

Moving on, the word challenge for April is GIRLS. It’s spring. It’s April. It’s girl time!

My Word of the Month poem for March

Hi everyone,

One Time When I was Little

One time when I was little
and we lived in Ajo, Arizona,
our neighbor Mrs. Joe Geiger
made tacos and invited me

and Mr. Joe Geiger and I
got into a contest to see
who could eat the most tacos
and we tied

so next day at school a girl said
I smelled bad and my teacher sniffed
and said so too and moved me
to the front of the room so my
garlic breath wouldn’t kill anybody

and later I found out that
Ajo means garlic in Spanish
so that makes my story funny
so ha ha.

The March Word of the Month word is . . .

Hi everyone,

I scheduled today’s post some time ago. I may or may not be in a place today where I’ll have access to deleting the February poems but that won’t keep you from posting your March poems. I’ll clean up when I can.

And the word is: GARLIC.

I look forward to the creative ways you’ll find to entertain us with this historic word. Go!

My December Word of the Month poem

Hi everyone,
Here’s my December poem told in a Curtal sonnet.

Making it for Mom

Back in the 50s they called it junior high.
In 8th grade I took a class called shop.
I knew little about tools but I could draw.
I approached the coming experience with many a sigh,
Totally intimidated by the backdrop
Of machinery pounding, grinding, the shriek of saw.

First we had to imagine, visualize,
And draw what we hoped to make without a flaw.
Too bad I couldn’t draw it and then stop.
My glue-smeared ice bucket was no prize.
But mom said, “Awe.”

(c) David L. Harrison