Raymond A. Foss
May 13, 2010
Mrs. Serafin’s class
Pembroke Hill School
Nouns Verbs and Adjectives
We added words, one by one
onto the blackboard
at the front of the classroom
little arms raised in the air
sometimes too excited to wait
words blurted out,
urgent important words
They were nouns, verbs, and adjectives
words of a walk in the woods
All are worthy, all valid
at least for him, for her
String together, communally
amid laughter, easy, fun
together writing a poem
before they wrote their own
with their own words
nouns, verbs, adjectives
and adverbs, daringly
-----------------
Baby Rose Petals
Cupped in her hand
offered for me
baby rose petals
from the remains of the bouquet
poured out
tumbling onto my desk
-------
Sand Castles
Molded and shaped
Specks of the rocks they once were
Packed and organized in the buckets
Like the seconds of our lives
Held together,
The stories of us
On the beach, in the sun
Working with the girls to create
A mighty fortress, regal and expansive
A myth
Thanks to Shanequa’s
Errant bucketful of destruction
Giggle and shriek
Splash, spill, dribble
Squander, linger
In the mote we created
Breached walls
A mirage of strength
Our handiwork flowing
Back to the water
August 17, 2005 9:03
---------
Sharing Berries
One for me
one for her (handfuls that is)
wild blueberries, picking from the bushes
high above my eyes, down by my knees
sharing berries with my baby
out on the island in the lake
like my island in that other lake
so long ago, a lifetime ago,
Warm ripe blueberries,
hot sun, blue sky,
late July
July 26, 2008
======
A Walk in the Woods
sitting at the end of the dinner
thinking of a walk in the woods
just before fall
not in the deep unfamiliar thick forest
no something familiar
suburban woods
looking for opportunities for discovery,
for moments of wonder
in simple things
curled leaves, a translucent leaf
from another season,
sprigs of checkerberries
princess pine
moss on the lee of the fallen oak
a chipmunk darting through leaf litter
a dragonfly disturbed
at the edge of the field
nearby
------------------------------------
Snail Tracks
Down by the water’s edge
in the space between the tides
tiny little roads for one
the furrowed rows
meandering to the sea
of the snails cast by the surf
up onto the beach
purposely fighting
to push their way
into the water
for dear life
Struggling but persevering
because they must
------------------------
Ribbons of Children
Amid the controlled chaos
the schoolyard, playground this morning
ribbons of children, running, skipping,
dancing over the blacktop,
being children, free, out in the open air
snaking their way, through the hopscotch
the jump rope, the tag and the banter
coursing, like ants to the nest
following a scent line in the dirt
no hands were held, but they moved
as if connected, giggling and
laughing all the way
August 29, 2008
Pembroke Village School
-------------------------------
The Crunch of the needles
Dry in the forest
before the first snowfall
the leaves of autumn
heavy on the ground
The barrenness of November
hastened by the cold windstorm
the rain staying south of us
watering another land
The crunch of the needles
the branches, the pine cones
the colored leaves of the woodlands
under my feet
The pitch sticking
soles of my boots heavy
a skin of needles
making them slippery
as I hike on the hidden trail
April 16, 2010
written in the school lobby
while waiting to be called in
for National Poetry Month presentation
Mrs. Forest’s 3rd grade class
Pembroke Hill School
Pembroke, NH
April 16, 2010
about a walk in the woods
in Claremont, NH, Fall 1977
(and my memory of other such walks)
----------------------------------------
A Day at the Beach
Laughing, we ran on the hot sand
The damp beach under our feet
The glistening ocean before us
The girl did a backflip, landing
on her feet; Ta-Da, like a dolphin
We were playing with the beach balls
Volleying over an invisible net
The dry sand burns. Splash!
Swim in the water, watch
for seaweed, sponges, jellyfish
The wind, the rocks, sand blowing
Walk down looking for shells, for glass
Salty air, wet in my mouth
The buckets and shovels on my towel
Sand everywhere, in everything
Rambunctious gulls, scream not so beautifully
A pause in wonder, the small world
shining in the tide pool
Starfish and seahorses excited in play
sea urchins dancing in suspended animation
Hot lying on the beach
Time to go home
April 29, 2009; May 4, 2009
a poem written from the words listed below,
on the board, shouted out, as Mrs. Forest’s
Third Grade class and I found poetry
in a Day at the Beach
The bolded words are the ones I used
from the list of nouns, verbs and adjectives below
The italicized words are those I added.
Written in about 10 minutes,
as a fun exercise for National Poetry Month
Pembroke Hill School
Pembroke, NH
--------------------------
Glassworks
Mesmerized, watching
The skill, artistry
Effortlessness in the heat
Of the sweating craftsmen
In the beach air
On the Vineyard
Living,
Molten glass, clear
Droop on the shaft
Entering the
Orange maw
Mouth of the furnace
Glow yellow
from the warming
Glistening wet
Grow with the blow
Liquid and free
Spin and catch
Supple flesh
Add color and form
Enter again
Translucence now
Hot gases
Fill the space
Wipe brow
Enter again
Cool and gel
Cut from the pipe
Clutched like a robin’s egg
By a toddler’s wonder
Placed to firm and harden
Into permanent wonder
----------------------
Sausage
Forget the frank,
Give me the Fenway sausage.
Lansdowne or Yawkey,
Just give me the street, the crowds, the carts.
Sausage you shrug, you the reader
Of this trifle, this whimsy
What do I mean, me the storyteller
Read on.
Peppers and onions
Tease the tongue
Bun and hot mustard
Set the stage
The scorched and blackened piece of meat
Reminds me of every one
Eaten before
So much memory
Of family and fun
Of ballgames, tailgates, and the carnie
A cacophony of moments
Drip with grease
Do you smell it too on the smoky hot grill?
My lips curl with a smirk
Writing these lines
As I laugh to myself
Of the pleasures of excess
The lusty gluttony
Of another one.
----------------------------------
Red Sox Win
Red Sox win
Yankees lose
A story so big
It led the news
Bumped politics
Down the page
It may even reduce
New England road rage
A-Rod and Jeter
What can be sweeter
Oh look,
We caught a cheater
Taking two from them
In their park
Big Papi
Was our spark
Down and out
A three-oh slide
Not the end for this
Team with Pride
Red Sox Nation
Delirious
This whole World Series
Will be just as serious.
Reverse the Curse
All these ages
So this club’s history
Will fill more pages
----------------------
Nightfall
The sun drops behind the shore,
The sky aglow.
Nightfall on the water.
I pull and push
The canoe away from shore.
Longing for the warmth.
The great blue heron
Perched on the skeleton
Of the ancient pine,
Silhouetted on the
Oriole sky.
The skin of the lake
Ablaze in orange, yellow, and black.
Waves swelled and fell.
The canoe pitched and bobbed.
The paddle blade leaves
Bright eddies on my side.
Colored lights on a deck
Elvis on the stereo
Easy laughter from a porch.
Failing light, all in shadows.
Dark houses, silent waters
A beaver before me.
He slaps his tail and dives
Shallow near shore.
We cross again,
Repeating the dance.
A light from my window
Guides me home.
Dark around me
All is still.
---------------------
Moist, but not necessarily chewy
Asking for details
the chocolate already consumed
before allowing
more candy to be enjoyed
Two brownies was her answer
asking if they were chewy
Moist was her response
Moist, but not necessarily chewy
to her older sister’s consternation
enjoying a laugh on the way home
after the school’s Valentine’s Day
something for the memory books
February 12, 2010
Shanequa and Shyanne
Pembroke Hill School
Suncook, NH
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 18,710+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment