Summertime Memories brought to you by #NaPoWriMo

April is the NaPoWriMo challenge.  So all of my posts, whether here or at The Black Tortoise, are poems.  No I’m not a poet.  I do enjoy a challenge, always have, even when I was a little girl.

Today’s challenge from NaPoWriMo.net:

take a chance, literally. Find a deck of cards (regular playing cards, tarot cards, uno cards, cards from your “Cards Against Humanity” deck – whatever), shuffle it, and take a card – any card! Now, begin free-writing based on the card you’ve chosen. Keep going without stopping for five minutes. Then take what you’ve written and make a poem from it.

 

Summertime BackThen

Summer mornings’ cool meant:

Weeding, Mowing, Ladybird, Barns, Laundry.

Hopscotch, clip-on roller-skates, jump rope;

Party of Nine charged outside until

 Sun beat down hot and humid and we

Sought refuge with oilclothed peanut butter sandwiches,

swirled in Welches grape jelly on toast,

Washed down with pasteurized milk or Kool-Aid:

Wished we had some, can’t wait.

Little kids napped, while big kids Slapped Jacks or,

 Crazy Eighted Old Maids, and I Doubted.

OhHellOhHellOhHell as delicious as

Peanut M&Ms counted with care, even-steven.

To be fair to be kind to be siblings to be equal.

Tested melt-in-your-mouth, not-in-your-hand, patience.

All remainders, a lesson learned in math, Mom’s.

 

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Written in the Stars NaPoWriMo

Again this year, I take the poetry challenge. Writing a poem a day throughout May.  I am taking weekends off. I must rest my fingers and say hello to my family.

Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo.net is to

take your gaze upward, and write a poem about the stars.

Immediately, I thought of when I was a little girl:

Stars and Saints Forever

Sister said, Therese saw her name written in the stars,

Back when She was just a little girl..

Easier than  a martyr or holy wars.

Sainthood is what I sought back then.

In the stars. Why not? Give it a whirl.

Therese saw what lay in store.

There in the sky, a great big capital T.

I looked and looked and looked some more.

No capital A, no lower case Adela in the heaven.

No crusade or death by sword, nothing written up there.

My little girl’s wish upon a star.

Baby steps: toddle and falter and toddle again.

See goodness, do right,

Honor the holy in all eyes.

Little ways, Little ways, Little ways again.

Sainthood is in the daily chore.

cranky nun