Monday's Post: The Park

The Park

I run, run, run.

I slide and swing.

The park's more fun

Than any other thing.

     

                         Anne Knowles

To the Memory of Seamus Heaney

THE RAIN STICK

for Beth and Rand

BY SEAMUS HEANEY 

Upend the rain stick and what happens next

Is a music that you never would have known

To listen for.  In a cactus stalk

Downpour, sluice-rush, spillage and backwash

Come flowing through.  You stand there like a pipe

Being played by water, you shake it again lightly

And diminuendo runs through all its scales

Like a gutter stopping trickling.  And now here comes

A sprinkle of drops out of the freshened leaves,

Then subtle little wets off grass and daisies;

Then glitter-drizzle, almost-breaths of air.

Upend the stick again.  What happens next

Is undiminished for having happened once,

Twice, ten, a thousand times before.

Who cares if all the music that transpires

Is the fall of grit or dry seeds through a cactus?

You are like a rich man entering heaven

Through the ear of a raindrop.  Listen now again.

I celebrate the life of Seamus Heaney, a sublime human being and poet.  It was a joy to be alive at a time when he was writing.  Let's celebrate our own lives.  "Who cares if all the music that transpires is the fall of grit or dry seeds through a cactus?"  Each one of our lives is undiminished for having been only one of many billions of lives on earth.  Despite the grit and dirt, let's look at our lives and the lives of others and listen for the music.  That is a fitting tribute.  "Listen now again."

Monday's Poem: August Days

August Days

Our pool splashes, our campfire songs,

our ice cream dashes, our pings our pongs.

Our badminton, tennis, archery, too,

our Monopoly, and, of course, our Clue.

Our flip flop shoes, our no-school rules,

our trip, our beach, our being fools.

Hot dogs, s'mores at summer camp,

lemonade and firefly lamps.

Our happy, humid, mosquitoey play,

our happiness with August days.

                        Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Train Ride

Train Ride

Robert, Bob, and Bobblely

Rode a train called Wobblely;

Bounced up and down

All through the town

And lost their frowns most probably.

Robert, Bob, and Bobblely

Loved the train called Wobblely;

Leaned left, leaned right

With all their might

And laughed all night most probably.

                                        Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Big City Tea Party

Big City Tea Party

Tea Party!  Tea Party!

Box, pillows, bear;

Box is on the balcony;

Party's out there.

Box makes the table.

Pillows make the chairs.

Bear wears a happy smile;

I love my teddy bear.

Bear's brought a cookie.

I brought the tea.

I have an old tea set

A neighbor gave to me.

Tea pot lid is missing.

We only have one cup.

Bear and I don't mind at all.

We make what's missing up.

Our royal castle's in the sky

Seven stories high.

Our kingdom is the neighborhood

And pigeons that fly by.

We share a crumb of cookie

With pigeons when they rest.

They don't want tea like bear and me;

They're simply cookie guests.

Tea Party!  Tea Party!

Come and have some tea.

You're welcome to the party

With bear and birds and me.

Monday's Poem: Thistle in My Whistle

Thistle in My Whistle

Thistle bristles in my whistle;

Sister slipped the thistle in.

Now my whistle doesn't tweet;

My whistle threet, threet, threets.

Sister used to be so thweet;

I'm glad she's almost three.

Since sister slipped the thistle in,

My whistle threet, threet, threets.

                                         Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Summery Yum Yum

Summery Yum Yum

Greenery leafery

summery heat;

Gopher stole a beet

from under my feet.

Greenery leafery

 summery fun;

Gopher stole another

and gave me one.

Summery yum yum,

summery treats;

One plus one

equals two tasty beets.

                             Anne Knowles