Here Is God's Mountain Range
We Go, And Say;
January, February, March, April, May!
All Along The Journey, It's Jesus Christ To Trust;
June, July, And August!
Four More Steps To The End Of The Year;
Two By Two Will Calm Any Fear!
September, October, Chilly Air Stirs;
November, December,
In Our Coonskin Firs!
The ironing on hold,
she donned a teddy for a span,
gazed at her reflection in the mirror
through puffy eyes
tucked beneath a coonskin cap,
hand-sewn in some god-forsaken sweatshop,
then grabbed the keys,
hopped into the Countryman
with a profound sense of gratefulness
for the surge of power as she punched the gas,
vanishing into infinity,
letters from her doctor,
confirming that the stromal tumors had returned,
streaming out the open window,
escaping the indignity
of being pulled from the wreckage
of the truck around the bend…
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A silly exercise, really: used the Poetry Soup random word generator to generate 10 nouns, and then tried to put something together using them in the order given...
ironing teddy span coonskin sweatshop countryman gratefulness vanishing letters stroma
I can't wait for the sun to set, but it's taking its sweet old time!
My master takes me hunting for raccoons after dark,
and I’m anxious to sniff out their trail.
A plethora of odors assault my sensitive nose
confusing my brain,
but once I smell my master's coonskin hat,
BAM! We're off to the game with my tail wagging.
I'm excited; and let out a soulful, impatient howl.
Then almost imperceptibly,
dusk drops a curtain of darkness, the moon rises,
and I hear my master's footsteps!
He pats my head with a familiar friendly hand
and a shiver runs up my spine to the tip of my tale.
I'm jumping around, eager to get underway,
when master presses the coonskin hat to my nose;
all other smells slip away
and I concentrate on that one scent alone.
I feel invigorated,
I so enjoy being part of the team!
(Personification)
06,29,2019
Pick A Title, Vol 6 - Personification - Poetry Contest
1.) The Bloodhound
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Students wear a mortarboard for graduation
Not a deerstalker like Sherlock Holmes
If they did, I would have to tip my hat
To those with such discriminating domes!
If you are a fireman, chef, or police
You always must wear the appropriate hat
Are you bad or good with a hat black or white,
Or are just cowboy hats distinct like that?
Not many wear a trapper like Elmer Fudd
Or a nifty coonskin cap like Daniel Boone
Some wear a Beanie or knitted when cold
I just hope they don't wear them too soon!
For safety, a hard hat or helmet will do
A beret or pillbox sure won't help with that
As for me I most recently shaved my head
But decided to keep it under my hat!
People laugh and make fun of me because I wear a coonskin cap.
But they'll stop laughing because I'm through taking their crap.
People say that my cap makes me look silly.
They say that it makes me look like a hillbilly.
This morning a city slicker called me a hick and he called my hound dog a mutt.
He was laughing very hard but he stopped when I put some buckshot in his butt.
He started running after I shot both of his cheeks.
He won't be able to sit down for about twelve weeks.
If you see me face to face, you may point, laugh and make fun.
But unless you want to visit a proctologist, you'd better remember that I own this shotgun.
(This is a fictional poem.)
< once there was a man named trader Joe
could do nothing with hair so let grow
under big coonskin hat
fleas tick and his pet rat
mercantile's just say Oh Hell No
once there was saloon name lucky spur
where traders brought in their hunted furs
in walks old trader Joe
miss Molly said let's go
now both itch scratch from leftover burrs