Our Host
Leilya Pitre lives in Ponchatoula, LA, which is known as the Strawberry Capital of the World. She teaches at Southeastern Louisiana University and coordinates the English Education Program. With her students, who are tomorrow’s English teachers, she tries to think of the ways to make learning accessible, enjoyable, and effective. She loves to learn about people, cultures, and rich traditions all over the world. In her free time, she reads, writes, listens to music, visits her children and grandchildren, or travels with her husband. Leilya’s love for poetry is reflected in her recent book, Where Stars Meet People: Teaching and Writing Poetry in Conversation.
Inspiration
First things first: if you plan to use this prompt with your students, you may call it Fridays Are for Fun. You may also want to adjust the prompt description to reflect this change.
It’s Friday. After a long work week, you need some rest, a break from routine, and an enjoyable company. I invite you for a date. No, this came out wrong. I suggest you go on a date. You will choose a person with whom you think your mind and soul will effortlessly connect, recharge, and have a wonderful time.
Many of you, probably, wrote about dates and date nights before this prompt and have an idea how you may craft a poem like this. I found Sam Faisal’s poem The Perfect Date as a beginning point for you to consider a kind of a date you may want to plan.
Process
When you think about a date night, who and/or what come to mind first? Think about that person, place, time, and how it makes you feel.
You make take any of these approaches when creating the poem:
- Write about a date that already happened, but still remains your favorite (or one of the favorites);
- Write about an upcoming date with a special person in your life that is planned;
- Write about an imaginary date with someone you always wanted to meet;
- It can also be a poem, in which you may sketch a few dates (a stanza for a date, for example).
Most importantly, think about a date that brings you peace and joy, warm memories, and hope, even if it reminds you about pain or loss.
You may rhyme your poem or use a free verse, whatever works best to carry your message to us. There is no specific pattern, count of syllables, or rhyme requirements. Your poem can be as long or as short as you want it to be. Follow your heart and your fingers on the keyboard.
If you like a little challenge, choose a form: a series of haiku, tanka, or sijo; a sevenling, an echo poem, a sonnet, or a cinquain. My poem today is written as a sevenling (see the instructions for writing sevenlings in one of the previous Open Write prompts). Because it’s Friday, and I want you to have some time for you and your loved ones, I wrote a short poem as an example. I may write another one alongside you today. Please, choose any form that works for you today. Enjoy writing!
Leilya’s Poem
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
A Weekend In
The pillows thrown around the apartment’s wood floor were cheap and red. On the east corner where the apartment sat, there was no lack of sunlight and no other buildings of equal size surrounding it. The apartment had fallen victim to a couple spending the weekend in. “It takes a lot of courage not to cave under the pressure of nice weather,” one said. It was the type of weekend that required having pride in filth, to embrace it – a number of takeout boxes from a variety of countries were scattered on tables and counters; the white tulips died from dehydration, the pedals wilted and fell slowly like a leaky sink; the wall clock was now a floor clock, and was stuck at 18:09; a computer played Fleetwood Mac, and the radiators clicked on regardless of the season.
Rachel, thank you for coming back to this prompt and posting a narrative prise poem. The weekend in with the “one” presented with a vivid imagery describing the apartment. I am “stuck” on wilted flowers and the clock, for some reason.
I loved your poem and how your perfect date was a night in by yourself. I agree that sometimes you just want to be by yourself and be nice and comfortable, lisening to music and hanging out at home.
Kasey, I am glad I came back to check one more time. Thank you for sharing this beautiful love story of yours! These lines tell me about your feelings:
“he locks eyes with you
your big hands steady his head
this is what love is.”
The imagery of “the dark sky / moonlight softening and still /buoyant and in love” sets a romantic tone for this poem.
Leilya, thank you for this prompt that took me a long way back. I remembered a first date from, what feels like, a different lifetime.
First date, summer night,
Pizza and Coke – tradition
In the making.
Saba, thank you for stopping by to tell a story of your first. date! I really love everything, or anything, that is “tradition in the making.”
Your poem is great, short and sweet, yet it implies so much more. You describe your first date but the last line says that you had many more dates like it afterword. Saying so much with so little is the best part of poetry!
Friday afternoon
Our little dogs jump with joy
To walk in sunshine
Katrina,
This is the best part of most days, right?
Such a sweet haiku, Katrina! This brought a smile to my face!
What a delight, Katrina! The dogs also understand they’ll have fun when you have a little time. Thank you!
The BEST kind of date night!
The simplicity is great. I can relate as a fellow dog lover.
I am not typically good with poetry, but I tried my best. I loved this prompt because it reminded me of the sweet memories I have with my current boyfriend when we were still in high school.
Covid High School Sweethearts
Gas station snacks, a DVD, and Jack.
He selects a Whatchamacallit, blue Gatorade, and Sweet Ropes by the pack.
I choose a king-size Reese’s, a Dr. Pepper, and cheese Pringles in a stack.
I select the movie, he opens the drinks.
He pours them into wine glasses, we “cheers” and laugh in sync.
Who knew dates would still be this fun after our first at the roller rink?
Kayla, the rhyming at the end of each line is fun. And you are right, “Who knew dates would still be this fun…” My husband and I grew closer during those months of Covid too.
Hi, Kayla! Who said you were not good? I see a sweet poem with beautiful rhymes. These were trying times and also the times when people learned to cherish an opportunity to share a space I think. Thank you for joining us today. I hope to see you tomorrow too. 🙂
Kayla, your poem takes your reader back to their own “High school Sweethearts”. The list in the first line and part of the first stanza are reminders and you made them rhyme, perfect.
Kayla,
I LOVED this! Took me right back to high school. What a sweet memory! And love that you’re together now — hope you share this poem with him. 🙂
No one got a slushie??
Oh, Leilya! Thank you for giving me permission to write a love poem to my husband tonight. We have, as of today, been married 40 years <3
April 5, 1984
As he said “I do”
I saw our sightless future quiver on his lips
beneath the bluest eyes.
April 5, 2024
As he brushes past me in the kitchen
we sigh into the morning
drawing oxygen from incidental touch.
Oh, happy anniversary! What a love poem. I so love the “quiver on his lips / beneath the bluest eyes”
Happy Anniversary, Allison! I wish you another 40 together! 🥰
Both of your little snippets are heartwarming and full of love. You made it, guys!
These are my favorites for today:
“we sigh into the morning
drawing oxygen from incidental touch.”
Thank you. Enjoy the weekend!
Allison, this is beyond sweet. Congratulations on 40 years! And now you have a poem to commemorate the occasion ❤️
Allison, this is wonderful! “[W]e sigh into the morning / drawing oxygen from incidental touch” is quite lovely! Happy anniversary!
Allison, I just loved this! And the picture made it that much better. ❤️
Allison, this is beautiful, Happy Anniversary. The format of using the dates is unique.
Hello, this is the first time I’m doing this, so I hope I’m doing it right! I enjoy writing poetry and this prompt was an interesting one. I decided to write about my brother, as the times I spend with him are usually the best parts of my week.
Twins
Two lives who have spent their lives together,
Two boys sharing everything,
Two teens spending time playing video games together,
Two adults now seperated because of the life and responsabilities,
Two best friends
Who still make plans together,
Spending hours on Discord talking to each other,
Playing video games or spending time talking about whatever,
Whether I am laughing with him,
Getting angry at him for something that happened in a game,
Talking about whatever movie, tv show, or game we enjoyed,
I savor every second I get to spend with my brother.
Which is why I try my best to set up dates to talk to him whenever I can.
Welcome, Andrew! Thank you for joining us and sharing the bond you have with your brother through poetry.
I hope you com back tomorrow.
Andrew, this is such a sweet tribute to your twin! I love all the twos that start your poem. It sounds like you two have an amazing relationship. Thanks for sharing your poem.
Welcome, Andrew! I am so glad you joined us today to share this poem. There is no wrong way to fo it. You are in good hands here. I can sense your brotherly love and your longing for the times you were inseparable. I like the line that emphasizes your bond: “I savor every second I get to spend with my brother.”
Thank you for writing with us today! Hope to see you tomorrow.
Andrew, welcome to this space! I love that you have a twin who is also a good friend! This line is my favorite: “I savor every second I get to spend with my brother.” It is the first time you mentioned brother, and although, of course, we knew he was your brother, I just liked it that you said it explicably here toward the end.
Andrew, your poem immediately grabbed me, as my own twins are now 29. Your anaphora of two…two…two moved me into the expectation of continuance, which you broke with the volta: “Who still..”
Thank you for helping me see my own experience (as the mother) through your eyes (as the twin).
Andrew I loved the anaphora at the beginning that underscored the “twinning” theme. And this totally reminded me of my daughters (not twins, but one at home, one at college) who communicate in this exact way from Discord to games to “talking about whatever.” Poetry is so great when it hits someone else’s heart, and you hit mine. <3
Andrew,
This is a fresh perspective on the theme. I didn’t consider the twin idea. It makes me think there is tons of opportunity for further exploration. Maybe the twin’s view as an echo.
Leilya, your poem could easily have been my own. I love the imagery of a date with your mom, no words needed, sipping coffee…simply glorious!
Thank you for giving me time today to think about how much my younger self needed loving teachers.
A Date with My Younger Self
It’s 1972
Little Stacey, nine years young and curious
Her fourth grade teacher is the worst
I am hired to replace her
“To give this class a better chance.”
I’m instantly drawn to Little Stacey, Kiki and Reggie
They stand out in the crowd
Because I see myself in them
Leaders, talkers, deep thinkers
At recess, I ask them to help me
Decorate the classroom
Wipe the chalkboards
With wet pink sponges
And give the room some order
They are such great assistants
At lunch, Little Stacey whispers if I plan to stay
Or will I leave them like Miss Allen
When I show her my keychain
“Miss Johnson, Grade 4, Room 12”
Her smile beams and she shouts,
“Welcome to our class!”
It’s the end of the day, 3:20
I wipe chalk dust off my sleeve
And pack my bags
Then notice a folded paper on my desk
Labeled with heart and arrow in red crayon
In perfect penmanship the note reads:
“When I grow up, I want to be just like you.
I love you, Miss Johnson. XXOO”
©Stacey L. Joy, 4/5/24
Stacey, what a fun way to interrupt the prompt by visiting your you get self. I love this.
Stacey, what a special poem and sweet message. Teachers can make an incredible impact. I still fondly remember my 2nd grade teacher. Gorgeous poem!
Stacey, this! Isn’t this the best reward we get?
“When I grow up, I want to be just like you.
I love you, Miss Johnson. XXOO”
All time, effort, planning, paperwork, grading–it all becomes worth it!
I love how you chose to have a date with the younger self. I also believe that every child deserves a loving teacher. Thank you for this wonderful poem today! Have a restful weekend ❤️
Oh, Stacey, what a great poem. I love the perspective you took from outside you, through the teacher eyes of Miss Johnson. I love this story. Do you remember Miss Johnson on the show Room 222? Here you are Ms. Joy!
I’m not sure if it’s misunderstood but I am Miss Johnson (I was married after my second year teaching) so Little Stacey met me!
I think as I read I thought you were the teacher but by the end I thought I misunderstood and you were describing a teacher you had. Either way it’s definitely a sweet poem. It’s great to be appreciated in the classroom.
The confusion comes when I write on the road. I was both Miss Johnson and my younger self. I wanted to save me from Miss Allen. She was deplorable.💙
I think I understood you, Stacey! I am so sorry that Miss Allens exist in the classrooms.
Stacey, what a picture! This was a gorgeous poem, and I love how it celebrates the cyclical nature of influence we have with kids — for better or worse. (How funny is it that you replaced that 4th grade teacher!) Great poem!
Love this idea. I think I will have to do a different poem on my own because I love date nights with myself. Thanks for the idea.
A sevenling?!? What a fun and new form for me. My Friday date night turned into Friday road tripping.
On the road (again)
In the car we sit, miles accumulating like snowdrifts
Mind numbing, body cramping, time freezing
Traffic and and Google navigation mishaps punctuated with alltheswearwords
We burst into song, another oldie even I know the lyrics to
Seeking attractions from concrete dinosaurs to indie bookstores
Adventures found in unexpected places
In the hate/love struggle of roadtrips, when I’m with you love always wins
My blog post: https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2024/04/05/friday-fun-npm24-day-5/
Kim,
when you mashed up the “alltheswearwords,” I pictured the string of curses strewn together in frustration at a missed turn or glitch in the GPS. Your poem is playful and inviting.
Kim, your sevenling has so many neat (I want to say delicious too) words/phrases: “Mind numbing, body cramping, time freezing,” and then “alltheswearwords.”
Your final line is a well-delivered tribute to love: “”In the hate/love struggle of roadtrips, when I’m with you love always wins.”
Thank you for sharing the link to your blog! I will check it out right away.
The first two stanzas are nicely divided into the hassles of travel and the joys of adventuring. Your last line says the most important aspect of all.
Thanks Leilya for today’s prompt! Tonight’s date night got cancelled, and it had me in the feels – but I’m so fortunate to have many beautiful date nights to look back on and hopefully many more to come.
There’s no date tonight
While you work those extra hours
Scrounging to save
and pay off
or get ahead
So I sit at home alone
And think of those first dates
So long ago
The memory keeps me warm
And I send you patient texts
All the while thinking ahead
To those precious dates
We have before us
In the many years
I’m counting on
You deserve them all
Hi, Sarah, thank you for the poem. I can see how understanding you are and how caring your partner is. You, guys, will have many more beautiful dates because he works “those extra hours / Scrounging to save / and pay off / or get ahead.”
The final line reveals your deep love: “You deserve them all.” It is sweet! Hope tomorrow you will have some time together.
Been there, done that. The scrounging and saving is so relatable for me. I remember thinking we’d never get to do what our friends were doing. But guess what? It gets better! I love how you don’t dwell in the negative, but look toward a better future.
Sarah, I love how you took an unfortunate night and turned it into a positive reflection. I love how you made the lines so short. This made it fun for me to read.
Ah too bad your date night was cancelled, but I’m glad you had this opportunity to write about those sweet date memories of the past and future. I love that last line!
Sarah, loved the paralleled feel of “pay off or get ahead” and the double meaning of “dates” in Line 12. ❤️
Sarah,
I like that there is a level of patience and positivity to this. You aren’t lamenting the change, but anticipating the better that lies ahead. That, to me, shows a love, especially when you say that he deserves them all. Thanks.
Leilya,
What a great prompt! There were so many date nights that I could have chosen…with friends, my husband, my kids…but I chose tonight’s date night with my fellow teacher, Christie, and a bunch of my Creative Writing/AP students (including my daughter)! Tonight, we all went to see Amanda Gorman at Hendricks Chapel at Colgate U, and, let me tell you, it was an experience I won’t forget! Two takeaways:
I tried to capture tonight’s date night, but I haven’t done it justice — I also played with her technique a little. 🙂
Church
The first thing we noticed
were the pipes:
Shining
The sound of a
silver horn
Mammoth in the midst
The mists
of intellect fervor,
building:
The building quieted.
Down the pew,
My cherubs sat
In a row,
expectant
expecting
inspecting
what?
She strode onto the stage
in a black dress
Arms so young
like angel’s wings
Spoke like a child
Carried herself like a woman
Preached like a prophet
Poetry like a beacon
A blossom in the night
Salvation in the east
Hands moving like birds
Like words
Like she’d heard
The clarion call of heaven
And found it her duty
To pipe the message
To we,
The mortal.
Wendy. This is everything! What a marvelous experience to have had. I love that she “preached like a prophet” with her “Clarion call of heaven”… Just lovely! Wish I were there!
I wish you were, too!!
My “dates”!
You are so lucky, guys! Beautiful dates you have, Wendy!
❤️❤️
Wow, Wendy, your poem is stunning. I love the repetition and subtle word shifts. Your similes at the end are powerful and I like the way you establish Amanda’s presence and power. Your poem flows effortlessly to that final incredible last line.
Wendy, this is gorgeous! I recognize Amanda’s style in your poem. The way you line up the words: expectant, expecting, inspecting. Love the visual similes in this part:
“Arms so young
like angel’s wings
Spoke like a child
Carried herself like a woman
Preached like a prophet
Poetry like a beacon”
And then onto grand finale:
“Like words
Like she’d heard
The clarion call of heaven
And found it her duty
To pipe the message
To we,
The mortal.”
I envy you, your friend, and your AP students. What an experience! I wish she came to Louisiana. I would love to hear her. Thank you so much for sharing, Wendy!
❤️❤️Thanks for your kind words!
Oh, wow, how lucky we are to get to go with you a bit on this date. I love the photo, and your daughter too. How special. You did a great job with playing with her technique. “midst / mist” and “expectant / expecting / inspecting” and how beautiful in this image: “Hands moving like birds / Like words…” Beautiful!
The Perfect Date
Does such a thing even exist?
The perfect anything?
Just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
so too is perfection.
I don’t think I want the perfect date.
For what would I have to look forward to next?
Hi, Donnetta, I agree perfect dates, and things in general, don’t exist. Well, maybe, in our dreams. Flaws, awkward moments, silly incidents are the things that make them charming and memorable.
Besides, as you ask, “For what would I have to look forward to next?”
Thank you for writing with us today!
Ooh! Good point, Donnetta! I think I agree with you, because I’m always thinking about what’s next.
“Just like beauty is in the eye of the beholder” so to is the loveliness of a date. Your last line really made me pause and think – do I want a perfect date?
Donnetta, I love the questions in your poem. Yes, perfection like beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I like how you lead us through your thought process. The idea of looking forward to something is valuable. Very provocative poem!
Donnettaa! Mic drop! Enough said!
🎤🎤🎤🎤
Donnetta, you are so creative! This idea is very inspiring. I find myself often looking for perfection, but our imperfections are what keep us so interesting. Life is so eventful and imperfect, and I think we should appreciate this.
Wow, I absolutely loved your poem! I agree, everyone has their own distinct idea of what perfection is, and when they decide something is perfect it is hard to improve upon it.
Leilya, thanks so much for hosting today. First Fridays of the month are when I am jammed for time so sorry for posting late. I tried to capture the sevenling form. Your poem is so moving and your last line is perfectly delivered.
Passionate Interlude
let’s escape on a romantic getaway
pamper ourselves in a luxurious suite
sip champagne, savor sensuous treats
be swept away by ocean waves
kiss like we’re long-lost lovers
snuggle playfully beneath silky covers
but I see from face, it’s too late
Barb Edler
5 April 2024
No worries, Barb! I know we all get swamped with work. You are here with a “Passionate Interlude,” and I love it beginning with the title.
Your proposition sounds irresistible: a luxurious suite, champagne, ocean waves, snuggles, silky covers–all so tempting.
And yes, age is a funny thing, to say the least. I, too, dream big sometimes, but happily settle for cozying up with a book while hubs is watching TV. Thank you for your beautiful sevenling!
Barb, your poem depicts two lovers swept away on a luxurious cruise. The last line has me wondering…too tired or no longer interested. Oh, the suspense.
Things are different now that we are older, right? I’m reading your poem as I’m watching tv, separated by dogs, with my husband. There’s something to be said for contentment, I think. But like your fantasy!
Barb,
This imagined escape sounds divine. I love the rhyme in lovers and covers; suite and treats. But that final line is a gut punch. I don’t want it to be too late.
What a twist of a last line, Barb – ouch! I love the getaway you describe, especially the nature touch “be swept away by ocean waves.”
Barb! You had me on line one! Then you took me right into the steamy loving by stanza two. I chuckled at the end. At least we can imagine. 🤣
Barbara, I love this poem because the last line is a little open for interpretation. I think a reader could see it as either the face of a clock or the face of the one you love. Either way, there is a lot of meaning in this poem and I really appreciate that. Amazing job!
Maybe this is the perfect first Friday poem for your busy life. Sometimes it’s fun to plan and daydream about passionate interludes, but when the time comes sometimes, it’s too late. Tomorrow is another day. You did a great job creating the twist in the last line.
How Old People Fell in Love- A True Story
By Mo Daley 4/5/25
It was Quad Day in the fall of ‘82
On a themed scavenger hunt when I met you
We were on the same team
You tried to make me scream
Even in the graveyard I didn’t say boo.
You continued to show off at the skating rink
Trying hard to impress me was all I could think
All the guys asked me to skate
But you, dear, decided to wait
You never looked at me again, you old rat fink!
Since we lived on brother-sister dorm floors,
We built up a real esprit de corps
When we started to date
I found I didn’t hate
Anything about you- I wanted encores.
And this silly limerick is just to say
Our freshman love grows stronger each passing day
Our cemetery love story
Wasn’t so very gory
But I wouldn’t have had it any other way!
Mo, the old people were young too, so they didn’t text, nor did they use Tinder, everything was for real. I believe one had to work hard to get attention from a girl, much harder than taking an impressive selfie ))
These are the lines that tell me you noticed him too: “But you, dear, decided to wait /
You never looked at me again, you old rat fink!”
The final stanza is honoring your long love and life together acknowledging that your “freshman love grows stronger each passing day, … … But I wouldn’t have had it any other way!”
Thank you for sharing your true story; it’s worth telling!
Mo, love your love story. What a fun poem full of that first moment meeting and then growing into something so much more. Perfect poem title, too!
“Our cemetery love story” – this is so dear! You sound like a very sweet couple.
I love this, Mo! I’m hearing a refrain from an old song, “Our love deserves an encore…” Yes, yes, yes!! A tribute to lasting love!
Thank you for the prompt, Leilya. The kind of date or meeting where no words are needy are memorable for sure. My poem recounts an August evening more that 15 years ago when my husband suggested a cross-country road trip in the spur of the moment!
Thirty Summers
An early August evening,
The air is hot and still.
My husband looks up
From a book he’s been reading,
“You know if we’re lucky,
We’ll have thirty more
summers together.”
I look at him silent.
“That’s not a lot,” he continues.
I know now he’s got a plan,
Something more is on his mind.
He leans in and whispers,
“We should drive out West.”
“We could do that,” I answer.
“We need to pack some things:
Clothes, camera equipment, food.”
I stop my reading and look
Into his serious green eyes,
“You mean right now?
It’s six o’clock – It’s Sunday.”
“Exactly” – he smiles.
I know our trip’s already begun.
Only thirty more summers,
I pack quickly.
Joanne, Isn’t it fun to share, in poetry, fun times we’ve had with family and friends. I can’t say my husband is this impetuous, but I can say, I enjoyed reading about yours. The dialogue you included helped us hear! Thanks for sharing both.
Joanne, I love this story of a spur-of-the-moment trip! Such a precious memory. I smiled while reading:
“I know now he’s got a plan,
Something more is on his mind.”
You know him well. The ending of the poem is laso remarkable:
“It’s six o’clock – It’s Sunday.”
“Exactly” – he smiles.
I know our trip’s already begun.
Only thirty more summers,
I pack quickly.”
This conversational mode helps me to observe your story effortlessly as if I am eavesdropping. Your poem reminded me of our spontaneous trip last spring when we were going out to eat in the nearby restaurant and ended up in Biloxi, MS–two and a half hours away staying overnight in the hotel by the beach.
Thank you for sharing your story today!
Joanne, you had me at “That’s not a lot.” What a beautiful, thoughtful gesture. This poem speaks volumes about your husband and your marriage. Just lovely!
Isn’t this delightful! ““Exactly” – he smiles.” – what a fun turn in the poem. You trip has already begun, you are in it, together. Wonderful!
Joanne,
Carpe Diem! Take the road trip while you can. Time, as the poet says, is quickly flying. The conversation makes the moment more special. Much has changed in 15 years. You should go west again.
Thank you, Glenda! Yes – we’ve been talking about going out west again. I’m not sure driving will be the best way to go – maybe a fly and drive, but I know my husband will have his own ideas.
For Christmas, my daughter bought us tickets to The Nutcracker. I was touched that she wanted to spend one of her few evenings home over break to be with me. (She also bought us tickets to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.) It was a wonderful evening out, and I feel all of our time together includes a story worth sharing. During the performance, there was a gunshot sound cue (part of the show), and it startled her and she spilled her wine down the front of her white sweater. I tried the sevenling format, which was new to me. I love trying new poetic forms.
I smile at her
all dressed up,
grateful for our night at the ballet.
She sips her wine,
our first legal drink together,
watching the ballerinas on stage.
then…BAM, a gunshot sound drips red down the front of her white sweater.
Heather—
what a powerful poem. I have to admit I skipped straight to the poem. Backing up to your narrative, I’m so glad the red was wine 😳
Heather, you worked your magic through this sevenling. It is beautiful, but the punchline is as dramatic as all theatrics should be. Bravo! I am so glad you had to spend time with your daughter. I miss both of mine so much, and when they come, it’s such a gift.
This line “our first legal drink together” reminds me of my adult firsts with my children too ))
Oh my, Heather. I read the poem before reading the intro! You know what I thought! I’m glad it was only wine. And, this reaction of mine reminds me of the necessity to give a setting, time, and place, when we are reading fiction with our students. If they are unaware of the SEPS (social, economic, and political milieu) in which the work was written or published, they may miss many of the allusions assumed by the writer. Oh my! My heart is still fluttering!
WOW! That last line hits the reader hard- glad to know it what just wine. It is special to share “our first legal drink together”
Heather, even as I read, the BAM startled me. I hope the sweater was not ruin. I’m sure the moment was not. This sounds like a wonderful Mother-Daughter date.
Thank you for noting the red wine. Absolutely horrific moment (thankfully, just theater), absolutely sweet precious evening.
I wrote 2 Nonets about Date Night. My favorite date nights involve time in nature with my husband. I wrote the first Nonet about the “typical” date night and the second reverse Nonet is how that is not for me.
Excitement builds all day for Date Night
Most get dolled-up, dressed to the nines
Greeted with flower bouquet
Romantic drinks, dinner
Holding hands, eyes gaze
Sharing dessert
Post a pic
Selfie
Like!
Not
for me-
hiking boots
beloved sweatshirt
hand in hand on the
trail through the sacred woods
Breathing deep in unison
Our souls in harmony- my home
Excitement builds all day for Date Night
I love the structure of your poem and the description of your ideal hiking date in the second half!
Thank you. Just writing about that hiking date made me feel refreshed.
Your poem uses imagery so well–I feel like I can envision both kinds of date nights! The different types juxtapose so well, too. I love the line “Our souls in harmony–my home” because it reminds me of the peace that comes from feeling at home both with another person and in a physical space. Thank you for sharing!
Cathy, thank you for a double-nonet structure. I like the two kinds of dates described: both are well presented, but I can see how you feel about hiking with your loved one.
How typical of today are these:
“Post a pic
Selfie
Like!”
The line “Our souls in harmony- my home” echoes my own sentiment in the poem I wrote today alongside with you (if you scroll down). It’s amazing when someone feels at home with another person sharing special moments. Beginning and ending with the same line makes your poems complete–you made it a full circle. Enjoy the weekend!
The nonets are perfect for this. I have to admit the second one had me tearing up. “Breathing deep in unison/our souls in harmony – my home” has so much warmth and love. That date night sounds perfect.
Thank you Heather.
Hi Cathy! I like the nonet form to build a crescendo to your date nights. My favorite line:Breathing deep in unison.
I love the descriptions in each poem. I love how the 2nd Nonet begins with lines about how the 1st Nonet date is not for you. Genius.
Thank you.
I can relate to this; I love dates- date days, more often than nights – in nature. “trail through the sacred woods” – yes, precious moments together.
Cathy, the contrast in dates are made clear by your nonets. Can I confess, for a date I’ll choose the first one any day. These lines, “Greeted with flower bouquet, Sharing dessert,” are so special.
Glad you enjoyed the description of the first date.
Thanks for sparking this trip down memory lane, Leilya.
Love your sweet poem about you and your Mom. Really conveys the peace of companionable silence with a loved one.
Our First Date
The Berlin Wall fell
The Stones rocked the Cotton Bowl
You reached for my hand
Sharon, this poem says so much with so few words. The lightbulb moments and how the world’s landmark times line up with the landmarks of our own lives…cool! Thank you for sharing!
Wow, Sharon! Your most important life moment happened aside the great times of change in the world.This is worth remembering! the final line becomes so tangible and gentle compared to the global events: “You reached for my hand.” Simple and beautiful! Thank you for writing and sharing!
I came here to say what Latin said. Just a perfect haiku.
Wow! What an easy date to recall! The simplest of movements “You reached for my hand” – and you have an everlasting memory. Beautiful!
A beautiful Haiku, Sharon. Your last line,”You reached for my hand,” has a lot of weight and says so much, especially at this historical moment.
Brother
He walked the thin blue line
in the footsteps of his father
paroling streets from Hillside to Harvey.
He walked the aisle four times,
marching from one love to the next
and on the road to five where he died.
And tomorrow bag pipes will usher him home.
Sarah, the last line about the bag pipes resonated with me & made me think of one of my heroes: my grandpa. Thanks so much for sharing your poem!
Sarah, I read and read your poem several times. It makes me feel a kind of desperation that is difficult to describe. To me, it sounds hopelessly sad: “He walked the thin blue line / in the footsteps of his father.” I wish we could always know how to help our loved ones.
I hope your brother finds his peace in a new home. Thank you for sharing. Peace and hugs to you, too.
Oh, Sarah…
Sarah,
When words alone can’t utter the unspeakable, we have poetry. My deepest condolences to all who loved this brother, son, public servant. May he rest in eternal peace.
Sending you love, my friend. What beautiful words.
I am so sorry for your loss, Sara. “On the road to five where he died” – that is so tragic.
Sarah, I’m so sorry for your loss. You and your family are in my thoughts. Thank you for writing and sharing with us today.
Thank you Leilya the end of your poem has so much meaning, “Words are not needed”. Your prompt sent me in search for a short poetry form.I ended up with a Triolet.
News Aplenty
Our weekends begin this way
We dread parting, the news is always aplenty
Many whisperings to convey
Our weekends begin this way
Mama’s words guide our say
We could never leave in twenty
Our weekends begin this way
We dread parting, the news is always aplenty
The Triolet with the repetition is an impactful form for this poem. “Many whisperings to convey, our weekends begin this way” made me immediately think the nonstop chatter when my family gathers.
The triolet is a perfect form for your date with Mama. It sounds like a precious date.
The form suits your poem so well today, Juliette. The line that really speaks to me is, “We could never leave in twenty.”
Juliette, Thank you for writing. I love the title, and the word “aplenty” sends me to the old times, but it sounds so poetic. Triolet works perfectly well for this poem. I am thinking about “we dread parting,” and it brings back memories of times when I had to part with my loved ones. Hopefully your parting is short termed. Have an enjoyable weekend!
What a great idea. I have been pondering this one most of the day. And I can think of many great dates, but just can’t find the right words for them right now. I think that mostly that’s because I’m not really ready to face the feelings that come with them completely. Like…if I wrote about them, then maybe I would forget about them, and I don’t want to forget.
So…I used a strategy from a few months ago when we did a search for a term in our messages. I searched up phrases in my text messages sent and received that used the word “date” then listed them and mixed and mashed them up. Not sure if I quite like my poem here today, but it was a good exercise for my brain and creativity today.
Dates for Days
Hey, my wife is wanting to –
you know – to just woman up.
We need to do our dinner date.
A dinner date sounds good,
depending.
No guarantee that dates are solid.
She can’t.
I messed up the dates.
It’s my fault.
Soooo…would you like to be my date?
Can you be my date?
Please provide dates.
When you have the date…
What date?
…send me the dates.
What dates?
If you know of the dates…
What dates?
What dates?
What are the dates?
December 3rd
March 2nd and 3rd
Not the 14th and 15th
March 22nd
April 11th
I have a date – a movie and knitting date.
Amber, I remember that prompt too. Your message-mash up came out so wonderfully hilarious! You use the word “date” quite a lot in messaging, not in the sense of the date date, maybe )). I laughed out loud in a couple of places, here, for example,
“Soooo…would you like to be my date?
Can you be my date?”
I also love the final line: “I have a date – a movie and knitting date.” Sounds like a plan. Do you know the final date? LOL
Thank you; it was such a fun to read!
I understand also that you may not be ready to face the feelings and write about some things. I hear you, and I am very grateful that you wrote with us today. Thank you!
I think this is such a clever and creative twist on the prompt. Now I want to write this kind of poem, too! I love the repetition of what dates?!?
Friday Night Pizza
he entices sweet perky peppers, bodacious
mushrooms, and luscious onions to lounge
on the cutting board in little chopped pieces
while I spread spicy sauce on the sultry round
smother this with alluring spinach, and
slice soft wedges of silky mozzarella
add his to mine, and set these on high
Oh, this date of perky peppers is fun and the word bodacious is fantastic. This poem is very sexy! And I love it.
Your word choices- entices, luscious, spicy, sultry, smother, alluring, silky- made making pizza so provocative. This is making me look at making pizza in a new way. Sounds like a great date night!
My husband and I make homemade pizza on Friday nights, too. Your word choice has my mouth watering.
Maureen,
This is the sexiest pizza description I’ve ever read. Y’all are getting hot in that new kitchen. Excellent catalogue of mingling veggies nudging up against one another. 🔥
OMG Maureen, this is a sexy pizza night. I love the play with words like bodacious, luscious, alluring… Love… love… love the last line – add his to mine, and set these on high. Genius!
Oh, my, Maureen! Something is cooking in that kitchen of yours! Enticing from the first word until the last–you did it again! Thank you for this gift of a Friday Night Pizza!
Your poem is fun and the pizza sounds absolutely delicious. Love perky peppers and bodacious mushrooms….definitely some sexy food words going on here! I feel that kitchen heating up!
Such a poem of pizza, Maureen. I love the adjectives and verbs you used–so sensual. Steamy and sultry!
Leilya, thanks for the inspiration!
date me up north
cherry wine picnic
hiking through sand dunes
kayaking crystal rivers
vibrant fall colors
scenic views everywhere
most beautiful: you
Oh, that “date me up north” sounds so enticing! I like the imagery and all the activities, especially cherry wine picnic. The final line is heartwarming and show how special that “most beautiful:you” is to the speaker! Thank you for writing and sharing. Happy Friday!
Sounds so gorgeous, so very special. Love the image of ‘kayaking crystal rivers.’
Such a lovely, snappy poem. The economy of words and syllables allows me to swim in every letter. I love the image of “kayaking crystal rivers” and that final line tugged my heart: you. Sweet.
Sarah
Your last line “most beautiful- you” so very touching. Your partner’s beauty surpasses that of nature- how lucky you are.
Leilya,
I am thankful I got a chance to take this on, and to relive a memory. Have a great weekend.
10,219
We can see the Tetons from the ranger station,
higher up than the earth curve,
giving a view beyond seven miles,
seeing peaks from a peak,
mountain goats to the north
below us on a snow field.
The hike up Washburn is enough to be an effort
into an altitude of gods
and otherworldly revelations,
and access to a memory for the few
and far between, and for a frozen moment
just Jenny and me.
Hi, Rex,
10, 219 – very impressive! Your imagery allows me to visuals how high you ad Jenny are: “higher up than the earth curve,
giving a view beyond seven miles,
seeing peaks from a peak.”
I applaud your strength and perseverance: such a hike is not a joke. Thank you for sharing this triumphal moment with us today!
I would love the majesty of this hike, being “higher up than the earth curve,” – yes, “an altitude of gods.”
Rex,
That line “seeing peaks from a peak is lovely and snappy, and then the next stanza with “otherworldly revelations” has syllables that roll up and down the hills you’ve captured in rhythms. Nice.
Sarah
This is a beautiful poem. My favorite lines were “into an altitude of gods/and otherwordly revelations” and made me sigh.
What a view you establish through your poem. Love your ending. So sweet! Hope you have Jenny read this.
Rex,
This is such a beautiful poem.
My favorite lines are:
and
So lovely.
Thanks for sharing.
I think I would
take Kafka to a
Denny’s, a four
top booth so we’d
have plenty of room.
I wouldn’t tell
him that I share
The Metamorphosis
with my students
every year or how
it transforms some
of their perceptions
about what literature
is possible, what it is
capable of; I wouldn’t
tell him how my minor
in college was German
or how I wrote my Masters
Thesis on his thinly veiled
autobiographical story
of Gregor Samsa.
I wouldn’t tell him
because I think he
would be embarrassed
by all the attention.
Instead, I would take
a child’s placemat
fold it into a sturdy
triangle
and play tabletop
football with him
until our meals
arrived
(and I would
totally let him
win a few games,
too).
________________________________________________________
Thank you, Leilya, for this prompt, for letting me have an evening with Franz Kafka, an evening not spent discussing literature – of which we are both passionate – but of this time filled with a companionable silence, where, as you write, “Words are not needed.”
Scott, what a fun date with Kafka it would be. I like your idea of tabletop football, but I think it might be a sort of ice-breaker for you. I imagine both of you would know each other’s passion for literature and, maybe, just maybe, after you let him win a few games, you’ll get to talk about The Metamorphosis and his short story for your Master’s, and about your studnets, and your poems for Open Writes and #VerseLove, and other your writing endeavors. Thank you for writing and enjoy the weekend!
Scott—Kafka would write another book about this date! IF you let him win…
This is a great note, Gayle! If Scott lets him win 🙂
What joy to have the ‘companionable silence’ of ‘tabletop football’! With Franz Kafka! Love your imagination, Scott!
Scott,
I am a big fan of parentheticals in poems and elsewhere. I love the wink but also the tender confession of “win a few games, too”. I adore that.
Sarah
Thanks for the prompt, Leilya – I enjoyed remembering & trying out a sevenling!
5 Year Anniversary
the restaurant was smoky
we tasted mango curry, savory samosas
sipped ice water from ornate metal cups
stopping at Mom’s to change, I curled under a blanket
watched him fix his hair, tighten his tie
mind drifting through the past, remembering
a bright room, crystal chandelier: the place where we began.
Hi, Rachel! Thank you for sharing your 5th year anniversary date with us today. Mango curry and savory samosas sound enticing. The final line makes me think about how our mind works to deliver memories. For you, it’s “a bright room, crystal chandelier” – remarkable details. I hope you will have many more anniversaries to remember. Happy Friday!
Rachel—that last line…
Love the full circle arc of this sevenling – to return where your love began; very sweet!
Oh, “the place where we began.” Thank you for bringing us into this moment to witness this tender noticing of “tighten his tie” and “remembering.” Lovely.
Sarah
I love the imagery of the meal – smoky, savory, & full of spice – just like a romance!
Rachel, what beautiful, poignant moments you’ve written here, a snapshot into your dinner and a snapshot into your mind as you remember the past and the beginning. Love this short walk through your memory. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks for sharing the tastes of your fifth anniversary. I love the last line.
Rachel,
I feel like there is a sleepy quality of reminiscence in that second stanza, snug and secure, that really sets up for the last stanza. And, it is so different than the excitement and sensory extremes of the first stanza. I like how the memory is a bright one at the end, filled with light. I don’t always remember with brightness. It gives it more magic.
Thank you for the sweet prompt, Leilya, and for sharing such a beautiful scene.
I went down a few paths trying to capture dating in the past; I even started a letter to today’s kids encouraging them to actually date again. But I landed on this . . .
renewal
never stop dating
carve out time routinely
for just the two of you
free of stress
free of cooking and cleaning
free of the non-stop chatter of kids
make time for the two of you
to stay in touch
to talk about little things
or important things
or nothing at all
go out to eat
pretend to be another couple
in the restaurant
and make up convos
they might be or should be
having,
walk back into the house
renewed
reconnected
ready to be parents again
Susan, your poem speaks to so many of us. We need renewal, especially in that intense rhythm of life where work and stress take up most of our time. I love your wise advise to “carve out time routinely
for just the two of you
free of stress
free of cooking and cleaning
free of the non-stop chatter of kids.”
I am going to let my daughters read your poem as a guide for renewal. Thank you so much! 🙂
“pretend to be another couple” – I love this!
Such an encouraging reminder, Susan. Parents so need this time together away from all the demands. Every single line here is valuable. “Renewal” is exactly the word, and it’s vital…which of us could not use more of it??
Heading home after spring break:
We’ve got a date
with the road. A
long way to
drive and
lots of miles to
go.
We’ll start on
some backcountry
roads without
many folks a-
round. Twisting and
turning, not
sure if we’re on
the right path.
Eventually, we’ll
merge with bigger
highways,
more traffic, options
to stop and see.
We’ll have
to decide if
we want to cozy
up for the night
or press on a-
round one more
bend and see
what
comes
next.
I can picture you typing this while in passenger seat maybe, not your turn to take over yet. Ah, road trips. Haven’t been on one forever. Love the length of the poem, kind of mirroring the drive on the road.
Have a great trip home and a restful weekend before the school year’s final chapter comes to call. I like the futureness of your poem, and that it is happening even as I read it.
I agree with Angie! This poem seems to mirror your drive – especially the twisting backcountry roads, the option of stopping for the night or not. I hope you travel safely, get some good pictures & have some tasty snacks!
Hope this date with the road is an enjoyable and smooth ride for you. I like unpredictable backcountry roads where it seems you may be lost as twisting and turning occurs. “To cozy up for the night” seems as a favorable option for yet another little adventure before getting home. Thank you for writing and sharing today as well!
I can feel that long drive as I read your poem, and I feel the deep companionship in your ‘we’ – even a long drive is fun, when you are with someone you love.
Your poem conveys the sense of adventure of a road trip. Your first stanza thrums with the energy of a rock and roll song. Thanks for bringing us along on your road trip.
Thank you for this prompt! It’s my anniversary in two days, so perfect timing! This is super rough but I got something down that I can work on for the next couple days!
It’s April again
Time to celebrate
How many has it been?
23?
Our hair is starting to grey.
I walk now instead of run.
We bring our bikes
Like always.
Pedal up and down hills
Beside the bay
Out to Lovers Point
Along rocky cliffs.
Past fake deer on front lawns.
Wait! Those are real.
We should know that after all these years.
Stop at each thrift store
Bookstore
Antique store
To Bab’s place with her oddities and art.
This one day a year, we
Leave the kids
have time to bike all day
Walk all day
Hold hands
And
Talk.
Remember why we started this in the first place.
Remember last year?
Fiji.
The year before?
Italy.
Before that
Probably right here.
Right in our backyard.
The Monterey Bay
watched us all these years.
Saw our first kiss while standing at its shore.
Witnessed our wedding
As dressed in white
We rode The Giant Dipper
On the Boardwalk.
Watched us hold our first baby beside it.
“Little Kaleb, see those waves!”
Welcomed us in for a swim a surf
A paddle
A sail
As each kid grew.
And embraced you on longboards
Then short boards
Together we watched them grow
And now 23 years later,
Two of them gone already.
The bay sees us stand for the thousandth time beside it, looking across the memories
And wonder how many more years have we here—What this bay has yet to witness of our lives?
But for today, let’s think not of past or future.
Let’s be grateful for the warmth of our held hands beside the windy water.
Happy Anniversary.
Emily, happy anniversary! What a lovely poem to capture the years.
Thank you for sharing.
Oh, Emily, thank you for sharing this intimate beautiful poem with us. So much history and love of this significant place. It doesn’t seem it will need too much tweaking over the next two days. Happy anniversary.
“Remember why we started this in the first place.” This is an especially lovely line for me. Thank you for sharing even the tough parts. <3
Emily, Happy Anniversary! I am glad this prompt turned up for you at the right time.
I loved these lines so much:
“This one day a year, we
Leave the kids
have time to bike all day
Walk all day
Hold hands
And
Talk.
Remember why we started this in the first place.”
There is so much love in each line of your poem with the perfect ending to deliver the message:
“But for today, let’s think not of past or future.
Let’s be grateful for the warmth of our held hands beside the windy water.”
Enjoy your anniversary weekend with a glorious day (or two) out,
Leilya
Emily,
This is such a sweet poem. I like the idea of chronicling the milestones and changes that the Bay has seen in your relationship.
Absolutely love these last lines:
Thanks for sharing and happy anniversary!
Hi Leilya, thank you for sharing a prompt that allowed me to go back to the best first date in my life. Also, silent date sounds like my kinda thing!
We Found Love in a Covid Space
We intended to go to Bella Italia
some fancy Italian restaurant in the city
except in Dhaka signs aren’t always a thing and sometimes you step out of the elevator and see two doors right next to one another.
Like your own adventure – will you choose the right one or the left one?
We chose the door on the right
looked through the twenty page long menu.
Think of any food, they had it
which should have told us nothing would be made well
but I guess we were more interested in our company
we couldn’t tell
(the place we were at was called 7/24)
I remember everything:
laughing at all the items on the menu with their Google pictures,
the empty tables,
the thick, black hair in your pasta,
me realizing you will throw a whole meal away if you don’t like it,
you realizing I’d always be the one to tell the waiter there’s a hair in the food, take it off the bill.
We got to know important things about one another that first date.
It didn’t end there,
you were still hungry
so we left and went next door.
The food was delicious, sure,
but we got a memory from the first place
and now the expression 24/7 for us will always be 7/24.
(all other dates for a while were at home
but that’s for another poem)
Four years and
two countries later,
every time we tell our story,
it’s thanks to Covid.
I can’t say it was all bad;
It was one of the best disasters I’ve ever had.
I love the story in this poem — and your last line! I, too, have so many wonderful memories of bonding with those I love during that time.
Angie, such a tale of love and fun. I love the photo and title, as well as the sweet details of Google photos in the menu and the fiasco with the hair in his food and how you both handled it.
Hi, Angie! I love your title – a spin on a popular song. when i read: “Like your own adventure – will you choose the right one or the left one?” I wanted to allude to Frost with “take the less traveled one” LOL.
Another gem here: “(the place we were at was called 7/24)” that tells a lot about the place.
How great to have that expression as a nod to the charming but disastrous in terms of food and service date. I thoroughly enjoyed your poetic story today. Thank you for sharing and happy Friday!
Thank you for the photo, as well. I forgot to mention it The “7/24” on a cake will now remind me your poem 🙂
“Date Night”
First date, bowling alley, August 2004
I’m told I was nearly 15 minutes late.
Dinner spot — closed. Plan B? Applebees.
Wedding day, gas station, June 2008
I KNOW I was running late.
Red carpet treatment along Route 66.
August 2024 — twenty years later; he might say it feels longer
©️Jennifer Kowaczek April 2024
While dating, my husband and I drove the length of Route 66 (IL to CA). After a mishap with my transmission and some very colorful words out of my husband, we found ourselves back in Arizona to get my car fixed. Sitting on the curb of the parking lot behind our hotel, my husband proposed — only then did I realize he wasn’t so much upset about the car 😂 I eventually came around to the idea of getting married at one of the historical Route 66 service stations in IL.
Leilya, thank you for today’s prompt. It was fun to revisit past dates with my now husband. And I appreciate you introducing me to the Sevenling form. This was perfect for the time I have this morning, though I hope to revisit and expand on my poem at a later date.
Hi Jennifer! Loved reading about some of your stories with your husband! “Plan B? Applebees” haha, awesome.
Oh my! Plan B! I love that. Also, I really want to drive Route 66 this summer and your poem inspires me to figure out how!
Jennifer, what fun you had getting so many details into this sparse form. I love the two middle lines about being late. They made me smile, and perhaps go with the last line too. I think an expanded version of your poem will be awesome.
Jennifer, I love your seveling poem. It’s short, but it lets to pack in so much a just a few lines. You did it so well! Your consistency of being late to the date is adorable. “Plan B? Applebees” is a real gem, as the others have pointed out already. I also love the line: “Red carpet treatment along Route 66.” Thank you for sharing these precious moments with us today. Enjoy the weekend!
So much said in so few words. Your last line—perfection!
Good Friday Morning, friends! When I give a writing prompt to my students (or any writing assignment in class), I write alongside them. So after I read and responded to a few early poems today, I wrote another one. This time it is about my first (late) husband, my first love, my first everything.
My Heart Was at Home with You
I put on my simple floral dress,
No make-up, heels, or perfume.
Who needs all this
When they are twenty?
You picked me up at eight.
Heading to the country club
Through the village streets
For the first time,
my face burned
under the curious eyes
Of the locals with each step.
The dance hall was packed—
Not much to do around here
On the weekends.
A blanket of cigarette smoke,
Dim lights, a disco-ball
Flashing out random faces.
With the sound of the slow dance music,
I felt some relief,
As though reading my thoughts,
You whispered into my ear:
Do you want to get out of here?
I nodded too eagerly: Yes, yes!
We walked the late-night
Lonely streets for hours.
You told me about your childhood,
Favorite bands, places you saw,
I shared my stories too.
From that moment I knew—
My heart was at home with you.
Beautiful tribute to your husband. I’m so sorry you lost him too soon. I absolutely love your title and how it’s your last line.
Leilya, this is beautiful. You make it seem effortless. “From that moment I knew– / My heart was at home with you.” Wow! I love the little touches that help us be there in the moment, like “Who needs all this / when they are twenty?” and “I nodded too eagerly: Yes, yes!”
My first beginning with my husband was so different, as my poem today alludes to. We broke up for several years to grow up.
Sometimes break ups lead to the best relationships. You did well, friend!
Awww those last two lines: beautiful. That kind of love is something to aspire to <3
Your words are beautiful! Thank you for sharing your memories with all of us.
Leilya, I am so glad you went back and wrote this verse. Such a small moment of great significance. Thank you for sharing
This is so dear, Leilya. It has to be so very sad to lose someone with whom you felt, “My heart was at home with you.” I am so sorry for your loss. I love his question, “Do you want to get out of here?” – what a fun moment to capture in your sweet poem.
What a wonderful memory. I can see your first date clearly, and I love the last line – My heart was at home with you.
Your poem beautifully shares how you can just know that a person will be yours for life. I love your line “My heart was at home with you.”
This prompt was a great way to start my morning on a day off! I always enjoy thinking about my dad who passed away almost 8 years ago. I can still hear his voice and his laugh.
A date with my dad
We’d meet at the
farmers market,
gather ripe tomatoes
and shiny zucchini
and probably some of that
fancy bread I like.
We’d stroll through
the antique store,
hunting for treasures
and things that might
be worth a lot of money
someday.
We’d both order chile relleños and
agree that they were
the perfect amount of crispy.
We’d laugh about the time
we made them ourselves,
how proud we were
of our finished products.
I’d try really hard to make
you laugh because
it was like
earning a perfect score
on an Olympic dive.
You always reserved
your laughter
for the real thing.
We’d hug and
say see you later,
and I’d hope you knew
just how much
I’ve missed you.
Carriann, what a wonderful honoring poem of these special times with your father. This stanza is everything. I love it so much, and it make me want to meet your dad too:
Beautiful poem.
Thank you! ♥️
Awww Carriann, what a lovely poem. I absolutely love the chile relleno stanza, eating them, trying to make them, laughing. That image is great. Thanks for sharing!
Oh, Carriann! I know how painful it is to lose a dad. I am grateful to you for sharing this beautiful date with your dad. I hope he smiles at you from the heavens often. I love how you describe all the things you’d see and do at the farmer’s market. Denise pointed out the quote that touch me deeply as well, but the final stanza also lets me see you pain and ongoing grief. Peace and hugs, Leilya
Aww Carriann, I love reading the chile relleno stanza. The description, and trying to make them, laughing. A great image. Thanks for sharing!
Beautiful poem. I love going to farmer’s markets, so I could see it all & felt like I was there, walking along behind you & your dad (and getting some of that fancy bread too!) There is such a nostalgic, joyful feeling at markets – & having this connection to your dad makes it even more so. He sounds like a great man. Thanks for sharing this memory with us!
Leilya, your precious poem with words not needed. It made me think about my mom today. I also thought of a strange date I had early in my relationship with my husband. I finally answered this question seven years later.
——————————————————–
We went to that park in Long Beach
It has a beautiful walking path around a lake
I thought a break-up was imminent
We walked and then sat looking at the water
And you asked me to marry you
I was surprised and didn’t answer
Today, we both can’t remember the name of the park
Denise, sometimes it takes time. You poem made me slow down to trace your walk around the lake and your somber thoughts. I am so glad you found each other again in seven years. And the park. Does it really matter what its name is? Stay happy, my friend!
My cousin had a similar experience – funny how relationships can be so close to going one way or the other in the same moment. I love your last line – the sevenling form works well for recounting this moment!
Denise,
“I thought a break-up was imminent” is a scary line. I’m glad you found your “happily ever after,” my friend. The name of the park doesn’t matter. The memory is still filled with all the important details.
That is wild that you thought a breakup was imminent and he asked you to marry! Talk about two different perspectives. I love how you don’t tell us your answer, yet it is strongly implied that it was a yes – so much has happened since, “Today, we both can’t remember the name of the park”
Awww, Denise – this little sevenling is layered in so much feeling. I am reading your intro and am blown away – seven years to answer?? Whoa!! Back to the poem – that last line says so much about the story of your years together. The twists throughout are all so perfectly rendered – you thinking the breakup was coming, but no, him catching you by surprise in proposing so that you can’t even answer [for seven years!], and now the name of the park lost in time. It is a seven-line novel and I love it. What a story!
Denise, what a wonderful love story. I appreciate your end as it would seem you would remember such a place connected to this momentous event.
Leilya, Happy Friday Date Night to you and your someones. I love the concise nature of the poem you shared, the photographic moment with your mom – it was so easy for me to see you sipping a cup of coffee at that table…a great reminder that the most beautiful details arrive from moments we take for granted. The prompt triggered me to retell a fish tale I’ve never explore via poetry. Oh, Lord, you gave me an opportunity to try. I wish I wasn’t me sometimes.
I Wouldn’t Date Me, Either
b.r.crandall
I used to have a mole on my nose
(we all have them, inherited from our dad,
a Pollock painting of kielbasa chunks
sliding across our skin
like a constellation of dingleberries)
(some have said, “like a dermatologist’s
flip book of protruding brown raisins).
I’ve told this story before.
I took her to the Irish Rover for a beer in the bluegrass,
both of us coquettish & curious, wondering how our horses
would leave the gate….but she was a flirt and,
looking at her plate, she reached across the table to say,
“You’ve got fish on your nose”
– it was rather psychotic –
when she reached for the melanocytic mound on my muzzle.
– No romantic nuzzle that night –
魚 Sakana 鼻 Hana (that’s not Gaelic, it’s Japanese),
& I became the schnozzle ichthyologist’s dream about.
(a year later, there was also the fright
that arrived in October, the 23rd, after I had the fish removed…
The kids were celebrating Avogadro’s number
– I never was good at bonding –
and they wanted to peel my surgical bandaid away…
(just a blood blister now,…long after that Friday night).
And Mason had to touch it. It was National Mole Day after all.
P. 78, “Explosive reactions are meant to oxidize,”
so there was no surprise that a room full of 11th graders
were greeted with a detonation of bloody puss.
No (and thus), I’ve never been good with chemistry.
I date bohemian, now, ending my weeks,
to edify with an easy song for me to sing,
I’m glad no ones here / just me by the sea
I’m glad no one’s here / to mess it up for me
I’m glad no one’s here / just me by the see
but man I wish, I had a hand to hold
Muzzle, nuzzle……pus, thus……gate, plate…….these rhymes that are at end and close within the next line are so appealing! I love the lilt of the language, the topic with a touch of self-deprecating humor, and the song at the end. Song of hope, song of the upside of independence. This is a feast of a poem, and I have read it a few times now, finding new and different delights each time.
Oh man… we can all feel this. I’m glad you’re able to laugh about it now! Thanks for sharing such a vulnerable moment.
Wow, Bryan, this is amazing to be able to write this just today. Yes, like Kim, how many times can I read your poem and smile and laugh–the Pollock painting, the English interpretation of the Japanese, Mason and National Mole Day. OMG, so very good.
Oh, Bryan, I am glad that fish tale is out! You had to tell us, and I am glad it happens in this space with soulful people around. I can’t imagine how I would survive a similar moment, but I like how you tell the story. i love all your poetry tricks here, and especially this one:
“魚 Sakana 鼻 Hana (that’s not Gaelic, it’s Japanese),
& I became the schnozzle ichthyologist’s dream about.”
I had to look up the meaning of Sakana Hana )) I smiled a few times, but the final line made me sad. Thank you for sharing this story, and I hope you will find “a hand to hold.” Enjoy the weekend!
Bryan,
Your opening line is the foreshadowing of a fascinating stream-of-consciousness tale. My favorite parts are those one might call gross: “a room full of 11th graders
were greeted with a detonation of bloody puss.” I LOL’d at “you’ve got a fish on your nose,” and the Jackson Pollock allusion is perfect. Fun poem. Perfect style.
Leilya, you wrote about silence; I’m writing about sounds. Both make for memorable times with special people. The first stanza is a new introduction to a poem I wrote with my students some time ago.
Walking and talking with my husband
Is a treat that can’t be beat. Here’s what we hear
Taking an evening walk when we listen and don’t talk.
*Sounds on an Evening Walk
Click-clack of push mowers
Low buzzing of electric ones
Clip-snip of hand-held trimmers
Swish of broom
sweeping the clippings
Purr of European sports cars
Rattle-ti-bang of teenager’s clunker
Revving of motorcycle engines
Whirring of bicycle wheels on asphalt
Clackety-clatter of skateboards
crossing the cracks in the sidewalk
Yip-yapping
of small dogs
Husky snarly, breathy growling
of big ones
Heavy snorting
through holes in fences
Padding back and forth
on hard paw-packed yards
Chains dragging along to a snap
Gasp of dogs trying to get us,
Ha! But we’re out of reach.
Anna, what a fun onomatopoeia poem. I felt like I was walking along the same route with all these sounds ringing out through your words. Lovely.
Anna, I second Denise’s comment about onomatopoeia! Such a great way to introduce to students, on the one hand (always thinking as a teacher first) and then how precious it is to walk and just listen to all these sounds. I like the introduction poem beginning with “Walking and talking with my husband
Is a treat that can’t be beat.”
The internal rhyme of treat//beat makes me want to continue reading and sets up the tone. Love all the sounds, but these I want to say out loud several times in a row: click-clack, clip-snip, and tattle-ti-bang. Thank you for this delightful poem full of sounds!
Smiling. 🙂 That was the class assignment. “Take us with you and let us hear what you heard.”
This is a great idea for an assignment! I will borrow it for my students.
It’s been so long since I have gone on an actual date–like dating to find a partner–that I’m not sure I would know what to say or do on that actual date. In fact, my wife and I often talk about how we consider ourselves very lucky to have found our person because the dating scene these days would not bode well for our romantic lives.
It is in that vein that the poem below was inspired: how I think a going-on-a-date-to-find-a-partner would go for Keith. Enjoy?
Southern Charm
“You brought a book? To a bar?”
Oh, yeah. I didn’t know if you were going to be on time
and I’m always at least 15 minutes early,
so I brought my book.
“Are you listening to it while you read? Is that why you are wearing headphones?”
Oh, no. It’s just that places like this
are often so loud
and it’s easier to concentrate
when music isn’t blaring at me
These are noise cancelling.
“Oh, cool. And the sunglasses?”
It’s weird that you mention those:
Bright lights have hurt my eyes
since the accident
so I wear these because
it’s tough to read
in bright light
“Okay. Cool, cool. Well, want to get a table?”
Sure. I think it is ready.
Let me just get my back-pack
We sit in the corner table
my back to the wall
so I can see everyone
and people-watch
as we talk
[and, perhaps, see all the exits]
“Wait, why do you have your flashlight out?”
Oh, I can’t see in these places
It’s always so dark
Their phone rings:
“Mom? Oh no! What happened?”
A sheer delight. The opening line is my favorite. I’m cheering you and your wife for finding each other – indeed, you are blessed. When my husband and I spend time around people who are loud with bright lights and loud TVs, we look for those exits, too. Dating in this day and time if I were not married would be me with my dogs – exploring trails, sharing (yes, sharing) ice cream with the 3 of them, and coming home to read and rest by the fire, just the 4 of us. I love what you have done with this – – that first line, friend, is a real winner.
I love the alternating text and italics. It really makes your conversation visible. Also the twist at the end! So good! I think If I had to date these days, this is very much what it would look like for me.
Keith, I live in Louisiana, so your title caught my attention right away. Southern Charm is real to me )) And then your first line, which made me chuckle right away. I could just see you there in the bar with a book and headphone )) I enjoyed your imagined date so much. Thank you for gifting us with this joy. Happy Friday!
Keith, I loved every line of this. What an interesting take on the prompt. I can imagine what grown up idiosyncrasies I would write about. I love the ending and how they get out of the date.
This may be the most beautiful confessional poem I’ve ever read. It’s an autobiography, a character statement, a poem worthy of a t-shirt (I once had this idea of designing T-issues, t-shirts with issues, so all of us could wear our stories out to bars to get all the good stuff over with). I love this poem, Keith…and I hope you assign it/share it with all the students still to come your way.
Keith,
You had me at “You brought a book? To a bar?” Of course. Books go everywhere. The contrast between lights too bright and not being able to see while looking for the exit coupled with your genteel style is simply southern delight.
Kieth,
What a fun poem.
I, too, cannot imagine starting to date today.
Absolutely love your last two lines:
Glad you’ve found your person. I trust they too would bring a book to a bar.
Thanks for sharing and making me laugh.
First date, best dates
How I became a Pate
Our first date, so nervous
You made me feel adventurous
Excited in new suede boots
Ready to two-step and scoot
Memorized every single verse
In a back corner, we quietly flirt
The next week’s teacher emergency
You saw another side of me
Neurotic, frustrated, and lost
You swept in, so glad I called
Ribbon and vinyl everywhere
Fixing pageant sashes with flare
Love grew and you showed
Me how life could be, I hoped
Seth met you under porch light
Head cocked “whose this guy
at my house?” Fate stepped in
Then you met my little men
Silver Dollar City matching shirts
Pink cheeks soft sun burns
A summer swept us into autumn
Past pain had been forgotten
Fall Break and we decided
Heather was ordained and excited
Eloped in a country kitchen
Planned a life; an imperfect vision
A pandemic pushed it away
But eventually we had a wedding day
With our closest friends
We said “I do” again.
Ashley, I am loving the connection of “date” with “how I became a Pate” – we know we are in for a good love story! The first meeting of “this guy” with your son really gets me; it is life in the making, in the tenderest stages. I especially cherish the scene of the ceremony taking place in a country kitchen. It’s so symbolic – the heart of the home, and I think of all the love in the savory goodness of country meals – it is an image near and dear to my heart. I am glad you got to celebrate again with friends after the pandemic.
Ashley, thank you so much for sharing today. I loved your story from the first two lines/titles that perfectly lead into the poem:
“First date, best dates
How I became a Pate.”
My favorite lines are:
“A summer swept us into autumn
Past pain had been forgotten
Fall Break and we decided.”
These three lines show me how you helped each other heal and became each other’s strengths. The rhythm and rhyme of your poem work beautifully to ensure cadence. Have a wonderful weekend and keep writing. You do it so well!
Oh, Ashley, what a sweet love story. We get enough perfect details that we can infer others. The “new suede boots” and dancing to start if off was fun, and then that second stanza where his status as a keeper is confirmed is priceless.
These two lines do it for me, Ashley.
I can see your suede boots dancing.
Aley,
We learn so much about you in this poem. My favorite line is “Planned a life; an imperfect vision.” That captures so much about the uncertainty of both dating and marriage, especially when you’re going around again. Your reference to Silver Dollar City sparked many memories for me.It’s been a while since I was in Branson, but we went every summer when I was a kid growing up. Any you’re a newlywed-ish! Congratulations.
Sometimes it’s not the grand gesture
But a simple lunch
in a bustling cafe
With meaningful, honest conversation
Shutting out all the background noise
Just the two of us
Fully present
Truly seeing each other and listening
And my heart is full once again
Heidi,
I love how the image you paint in your poem as an intimate and quiet moment is reflected in the brevity and flow of your verses.
You’re so right, Heidi, about “it’s not about the grand gesture” but about being “fully present/truly seeing each other and listening” – how different the world would be, if we all did this. I can so see you and your other there in the cafe setting, leaning in, having meaningful conversation…it is vivid in my mind.
Hi, Heidi! I agree the best dates are not about “grand gestures,” but about being in the moment, seeing, listening, and hearing each other. I love the line “Shutting out all the background noise;” it tells me that you two are the most important in the moment. I am happy with you knowing that your “heart is full once again.” A beautiful poem! Thank you for writing and sharing. Happy Friday!
Lovely, Heidi. “meaningful, honest conversation” and “Fully present” are some of life’s greatest gifts. Beautiful!
Awe! This is sweet, and it is a treasure when you have a date like this. I hope you get more of these in your future with all your favorite people.
Leilya,
There are so many possibilities for today’s prompt. I sense a bittersweet nostalgia in your poem. It’s peaceful and comforting.
I decided to write a “Ken” poem about two “dates.” The Canva photo is from the Neon Museum in Las Vegas.
Cliché [Sevenling]
when people ask how we met
i tell them at the Green T—
iconic P-Town country bar
we rolled the dice in sin city—
a second chance lottery gamble—
little white chapel Elvis witnessed i do
we are a cliche i say
Glenda Funk
4-5-24
Your two verses are like bookends for the beginning of your romance to how you decided to take a gamble together!
Hi, Glenda, I would call you adventurous, not the cliché under any circumstances. I do love the sounds of the second stanza with its metaphorical dice roll and “a second chance lottery gamble.” This is called taking risks in my books 🙂 Thank you for your poem today, friend, and the Canva photo, which dresses up your poem so well. Enjoy the weekend! Have you packed your bags for another trip yet?
A gamble that paid off, Glenda – I love that ending line!
Glenda, you two won big in each other – – forget the dice! That was divine intervention right in the middle of sin city. Can I just say I love the idea of the Elvis wedding chapel? My brother (also named Ken) is getting married this weekend, and while I’m all about the fun and festivities – and it will be sweet and gorgeous on the island where we grew up in South Georgia – I’m not the bride and even I’m exhausted. Hair, nails, clothes, shoes, jewelry, details, photography, flowers, travel, dogs boarded, and I can’t wait for their special day tomorrow. But I looked at my husband last night when we got back to our place on the island and in all seriousness said, “If we were getting married all over again, we’d be eloping.” He chuckled. So yes, yes, I am all about the chapel. You and Ken won right there in finding each other!
cliche and touché, I say. because you’ve written a beautiful poem, Glenda!
I love your title, and knowing you and Ken make this even more special. That second stanza’s details make me smile in understanding, cliche, perhaps, but you both won the lottery!
What a wonderful cliche though! “We rolled the dice in sin city” is such a great line that shows me the lights!
Not sure when your anniversary is, but Happy Anniversary and many more to come!
This is such a great pair of lines, “we rolled the dice in sin city—
a second chance lottery gamble—” -Marvelous! What a great bet you placed!
Glenda, I love the twist to your poem since you and Ken are definitely not a cliche. Love the story and the line “we rolled the dice in sin city” is so fun! I did not realize you were married in Vegas, but I think you got dealt the winning hand:) Love the Canva depiction for you poem, too!
Leilya, your poem eloquently captures the power of silence when communicating. Thank you also for introducing me to sevenlings- below is my first attempt at drafting one. Still trying to decide if I need a title…
Movie night awkwardness
Hilarity fills the air
Giggles over pretzels and beer
Wedding in the Mountains
Strolling under the stars
Laughter and romance abound
First date, last date – let me reach through the heavens to ask for one more
So simple but tells a love story…
that last phrase…
let me reach through the heavens to ask for one more
the perfect ending (to the poem not the love)
I just adore it
Your poem moved me. Each line captured a chapter in your relationship, and I felt your mourning in the last line as a whisper to the heavens filled with longing.
Hi, Christine, and welcome to Friday! This is so beautiful. I like your sevenling without a title; it may still come to you later. That final line hits so close to home: “let me reach through the heavens to ask for one more.” I wish I could have one more my first husband, with Mom, Dad, and other loved ones in the heaven. Let memories like your first and last date warm your heart. Hugs!
“Reach to the heavens to ask for one more” – I am undone, Christine. The ache is deep…so much power in your words. Beautiful reminiscence.
Christine, I was fine with 1-6, but when I got to 7, my heart ached with loss. I think what got me the most was that the shift happened so quickly – – and I thought almost audibly, “wow – – Christine captured what we all say but never really realize about how quickly things change – – until we experience it.” This is A PERFECT example of shift, and of movement of moments.
Christine, wow. Your sevenling is perfect. First date and last date each with their own stanza, and the twist in line 7 is heartbreaking and the way it is worded…”let me reach through the heavens…” shows such longing.
Christine,
I’m processing those two three-line stanzas and thinking about that surprising last line. Such bittersweet memories you’ve shared here. “let me reach through the heavens to ask for one more” is a beautiful, heartbreaking line.
How fun! It is great to be sharing a space with you and your first attempts at sevenlings. I like the imagery. I hope the heavens bring you one more and one more and one and one and one more and more and more.
Just love your last line “First date, last date-let me reach through the heavens to ask for one more”. It relays how much you treasured your time together and that love has lived on.
Leilya–I woke up early, read your beautiful poem to your mother, wishing I had that relationship with my own mom, and went back to sleep. When I woke up, this poem had written itself. Thank you.
For My Daughter,
Who Lives Too Far Away
The Perfect Date
You and me
On the couch
Watching TV
Painting our nails.
GJSands
4-5-24
In four lines, you completely captured the hope I think many parents feel–to capture those small moments with our kids. The simplest things become what I miss the most.
Gayle, this is perfect! This is exactly what my date with a daughter who lives far away looks when I go or she comes to visit. We also have grandkids around, so maybe their nails are painted as well )). Thank you for reminding me that it is the presence of another person that makes all the difference. Enjoy the weekend!
Oh, Gayle. Just being together…perfect. The scene sears my heart, with longing.
Gayle, the time and togetherness are the sweet ingredients of the most meaningful relationships. Sunrises, nail painting, TV on the couch, coffee, sunsets…..each other. This is sweet and precious.
Gayle,
Yes to the couch, but I’d be biting my nails. LOL! Our definition of perfect date changed w/ age, right?
Gayle, I can appreciate the dedication there, as my two daughters also live too far away in opposite directions. So this poem strikes home for me. It would be a perfect date, and I hope you can get more of these with your daughter.
I hope you send this to your daughter. That sounds like the dearest date; may it happen again soon.
Leilya, I love this prompt! It’s so flexible as it can apply to so many people and situations, yet it can also be deep or sad or funny or joyful. Thank you for sharing this prompt with us!
My poem is about a blind date I’m going on today (how ironic that this prompt is for today!). Hope y’all enjoy! First dates bring so many mixed feelings!
Blind Date
old-fashioned
mystery
sight unseen
taking a chance
see if we click
maybe he’s cute?
hoping he’ll see me
as I share with him
some parts of myself
but what if he’s ugly
or short or bald or scary
or tells me what to do
or thinks I’m not pretty
enough for him
praying for a joyful time
to get to know someone new
fear won’t keep me from seeking
what I will one day get to find.
Larin, I am so glad you have this opportunity to think about your date before it happened. Who knew?! I love that you take “a chance / see if we click / maybe he’s cute?”
This is the only way to find out, right? Your doubts are quite justified; you are meeting someone new for the first time. It may not be today, but you will find your person. I wish you a wonderful time tonight! Thank you for sharing.
Oh wow, Larin! First of all, your poem grips my heart; the wondering and hopeful anticipation, the vulnerability. You’ve brought me into your shoes and I feel it all — ooo it makes me nervous but excited! – remembering, finally, that I am the only reader, I, too, “pray for a joyful time.” And that he’s cute lol. And… how can he think you are anything less than beautiful?? 🙂 What wild timing!!!
Larin,
as a scary, ugly reader of poems…I feel seen. Love this poem. An old-fashion mystery for us all.
Oh, Larin, I so enjoyed this perfect-timing poem. I do hope we’ll get to read a follow up poem sometime in April. I so love your wonderings. “Praying for a joyful time…” and “fear won’t keep me from seeking…” are wonderful thoughts. I’m saying a prayer for you too!
Larin,
I’ve been on some blind dates, and my experience tells me it’s the men who need to be concerned about measuring up to women. Lordy, I’m having some flashbacks! LOL.
Leilya, thank you for hosting us today and for investing in us as writers. Your poem goes straight to the heart of the matter – precious, tender moments with your mother. I remember, too, times when words were not needed, no longer possible, but so deeply missed. Thank you for the sevenling form as well. I do love these short forms that say so much in so few words.
The Swing
I’d said NO to a third date.
NO WAY. NEVER AGAIN.
I was running scared, hurt.
But you waited.
You asked again:
Let’s go to the park, sit in the swing.
And God winked on us forever.
Oh, Kim! I can imagine you saying NO, but I admire patience and persistence of your significant one. “And God winked on us forever” will stay with me. Such a loving note! Thank you for this gem!
Oh, and the title. It carries a double meaning – the swing as is and the swing in your relationships! How sharp you are 🙂
Kim – the beauty of these short forms is the clean blade that slices, neat, and the punch straight to the gut. That’s what your poem does. The line that slices – “I was running scared, hurt.” The gut punch – “You asked again.” The last line in the sevenling is usually the unexpected “swing” line (Leilya so aptly describes a double meaning with the actual swing where you husband proposed, and your title also representing swing toward this life decision instead of away; there are many “swings”!) – here, your poem’s last line rolls upon us like a benediction, a blessing. I celebrate your recent anniversary, alongside you.
Kim–that last line is so touching. “And God winked on us forever” I feel that in my heart.
God winked! Love this. I’m tearing up as I read these powerful words
Kim,
You know you have a keeper when he waits and does so w/ out complaining, and when he wants to sit on a swing and talk. You can have a more perfect date than that.
“But you waited / You asked again” – Phew. Love this God-wink on a Friday morning, Kim
Oh, the A swing again today. And now there is a relAxing swing on the Funny Farm too. The two stanzas, so different, leading us to that sweet ending. “God winking” is a perfect way to say it. A swing for a home run today, my friend.
Precious. Love the motion – running, swinging, God is winking…
Beautiful poem, Kim. I adore your last line. What a blessing.
4-5-let’s ride
Call it a first light date,
Up early,
can’t be late.
Another Broken Egg 🥚
62 miles away,
going there, today.
Beautiful Wife and Daughter
at my side,
Spunk’s music, as we ride.
Down through Crawford and Perry,
Pass Dickey’s Farms,
peaches and strawberries.
Might stop on way back?
Peach ice cream and a peach rack.
Post our adventure, so all can see,
Middle Georgia glamour
and southern beauties.
Sunrise dreams and backroad conversations,
Dew glazed scenery,
A poetic inspiration.
A date at first light,
Glamorous Sun break,
Beauty in my sight!
Boxer, I can see the scene unfolding. Great rhyme scheme and you have me wondering the destination – – I know the roads, and I’m ready for summer’s peach season since the crops were lost last year. Be safe and have fun with Melinda and Sarah today!
Boxer, hi! You got me with the title! I like the idea of the “the first light date,” especially with your beautiful wife and daughter. Thank you for allowing us to follow along your ride and see ” Middle Georgia glamour.” The peach ice-cream sounds so good! Enjoy time with your loved ones!
Beautiful through and through, Boxer…I so enjoyed the early ride. I can can see and smell those sweet Georgia peaches…the color of sunrise.
Boxer–you took us with you on the date! This is my favorite line of all–
“Sunrise dreams and backroad conversations,”
Such quiet joy.
Boxer, “poetic inspiration” indeed. It sounds beautiful with your “sunrise dreams and backroad conversations.” I hope the peaches were delicious! That is one of the things that sells me on wanting to replicate this date.
Leilya, what a tender, warm poem…not words needed is such a great phrase for a mother to daughter connection. I took your advice and looked for a short form. It’s Friday and I am pooped! But, I want to write something every day. Here’s a cinquain.
We met at a wedding
me, a
wallflower. You
the sun, circled by stars
twirling, shining until our eyes
meet. Sparks
Linda, your poem today is an absolute perfect example of a short form poem that paints a full novel in 5 lines plus a title. I can see the wallflower, the handsome prince, so many fluttery hearts, and then he spies Cinderella, and all the rest fade into the background as the weaver of all love weaves His wonders. Gorgeous!
Linda, this was meant to be! I love brevity here; it tells so much! For him, you became “the sun,” as soon as your eyes met I think. Beautiful! Thank you for writing! I am so grateful you are here on Friday too.
Linda — in a word: destiny! A whole world of enchantment springs to life in 16 words. Gregarious boy meets shy girl and …I learned here at Ethical ELA to “make the title do more work.” You nailed it here.
Linda–wow!! This is a romantic movie, only so much more beautiful! The title, the picture you paint, perfection!
Every line just right to me
I especially enjoyed
You
the sun, circled by stars
You left me wondering if it was the beginning of your love story
Linda, that’s it…I’m aiming for more brevity. This is simply brilliant and glows across the page. Now I’m in love, too.
Oh, Linda, what a great cinquain of joy and poetry magic. I love that something happened with the first meeting of your eyes. Joy and hope pour out of this poem.
Linda,
This is just great! It’s so short but sure has power and tells it all. Sparks. Love it.
Leilya, this is such a sweet way to end the week, focusing on time spent with people we love. Your sevenling paints such a clear picture of you and your mother at the table, sipping coffee, savoring the gift of each other’s presence. So lovely.
I wrote this pantoum a couple of weeks ago – it’s where my mind went first today, so I will share it here. Thank you for this gift of your poem and prompt.
It’s Magical for Franna, Too
(For my granddaughters:
Scout, age 8, and Micah, age 2.
Franna hopes you always remember…)
At Franna’s house
We play all day
Singing a hundred songs
Wearing Franna’s jewelry
We play all day
We hide in our bedspread fort
Wearing Franna’s jewelry
While building our castles
We hide in our bedspread fort
We eat up all the ice cream
While building our castles
It’s always a magical time
We eat up all the ice cream
Singing a hundred songs
It’s always a magical time
At Franna’s house
Absolutely beautiful…I know they will remember. This is a gift poem if I ever read one.
Oh, Fran! The time with grandkids is always magical. Scout and Micah will remember such a great Franna with songs, jewelry, bedspread fort, and ice-cream. I love the title of your poem and dedication. Both are heartfelt showing your endless love for granddaughters. Thank you for sharing your grandma magic with us today!
Fran, it is magical! I know your granddaughters will cherish memories of the time spent at Franna’s I love the title and dedication of your poem. It is a ready gift for them. I love all the things together: wearing Franna’s jewelry, singing, building castles, and eating ice-cream. What can be better? The pantoum form suits so well here. Thank you so much for sharing!
Fran, the magical times are right here, too, reading your words that tell of your fun! I still get to the line
We eat up all the ice cream
and my eyes reread that one over and over again. There is something about a grandmother eating up all the ice cream with her granddaughters that is the magic of the female generations – the deep comfort, the slow churn, the sweet lip kisses of cream and sugar. The castle may be literal or metaphorical, but that ice cream holds all the magic.
Positively AWESOME!
Fran,
Franna is a perfect truncation of granna. I love all the imagining of playing under tents, eating ice cream, making magic w/ the grands.
Fran, I believe the pantoum, with its repetition is the perfect format for this time with your young granddaughters. I know from being with children of their ages that “play all day” includes going in and out of the bedspread fort, and wearing jewelry, removing, putting it on again, eating ice cream, singing songs, then starting the magic over again all the day long. Such a lovely date!
Print this beauty off and frame it as a keepsake for them! It’s precious.
I love how many of these poems aren’t “romantic” dates but special time spent with others. Grandkids . . . oh how I can’t wait!
And those are the best dates they will ever have, Franna! (Love the moniker!)
We settle
into our seats
as the orchestra
of quiet begins
to play inside
the living room –
a mix of Cage
and Copeland –
our fingers tapping
in time together,
light drum skins,
we begin a rhythm
— Kevin
Kevin, I savor these lines especially:
as the orchestra/of quiet begins
we begin a rhythm
-I’ll carry these with me today.
Kevin – Your images have a very sensual rhythm this morning. I love “orchestra/ of quiet” … the spacing is perfect and suggests right off that music will carry me along the lines. “The mix”…yes. “Fingers… light drum skins”… ooo..very sensual. As always, you’ve chosen so few words and delivered sooo much. And so early! If you’re this good at 4 a.m., I can’t help but wonder what your night rhythms are… well…hmmm. ☺️ Happy Friday! Glad you are in this space. Susie
Morning, Kevin! Like Fran, I love “as the orchestra of quiet begins.” Your poem creates such a serene mood throughout. Thank you!
Oh, so lovely! Being in tune with someone like this…a wonderful date. And, the form fits for this sweet story.
Kevin, the rhythm of togetherness, of finding harmony in the silence – – there is such a powerful message in these 12 short lines. Music is like a smile that brings people together.
Mmmmm. This is good. Love these lines, Kevin.
“light drum skins” sounds like a sensual wonderful time together at the “orchestra of quiet” in the living room. So much beauty, wonder and love conveyed in your poem.