September 12, 2012

  • Poetry Posse - "Childhood Memory of (A) Fall" - Sept 29, '09

    I had a really nice surprise yesterday when I discovered that my previous (and first!) entry to the Poetry Posse Challenge had won an Honourable Mention from the other participants, and  I'd been picked as the "Remembered Words From Time Passed" for this month of September 09. Bloody hell! You could have knocked me down with a feather! :D
     
    I'm hoping this boost to my poetic ego, which can be somewhat lacking at times, will help to spur me on to produce a little more mouse-type creativity. Thanks to everyone who voted for me! *muah!*
    The next Challenge is up and running ~
     
    "The theme this week will be simple and easy. It's free verse, no line or stanza limit. But the theme is to pen (keyboard) a good moment that stands out in your childhood surrounding Fall. That shouldn't be difficult, right? Right."
     
    Well, let's see, eh? :)






    Childhood Memory of (A) Fall

     
    A day at the park with Mum and Dad,
    My brother and I wrapped in eager anticipation and woolly hats and mitts.
    Leaping from the car into a whirlwind of leaves in motion
    As trees give up their coverage in a frenzy of wind-fueled dance.
     
    Crouching low to pick up a shiny conker,
    Jumping high to catch a falling leaf
    Or two, or three ~
    One gold, one green, one bronze, one red
    I want a crown of crunchy jewels for my head.
     
    The wind has whipped up mountains of crisp snap and crackle
    As we run for the slide and swings,
    Crunching our way up and over and down.
    I run too fast, wanting to be the winner
    And loose my balance, clumsy as I always am.
    Sprawling head first not into a forgiving pile such as just climbed,
    But chin meeting gravel with a sickening thud.
     
    I cry. My brother laughs.
     
    Mum and Dad come running.
     
    Dad picks me up and hoists me into his arms,
    Me facing backwards as, en masse, we make our way back to the car.
    I watch red drips from my chin mingle with my tears and fall onto his mustard-yellow sweater,
    Quickly soaking in like ink on blotting paper.
     
    My brother glares angrily at me and complains,
    Our Fun Day Sunday cut short.
    If looks could kill I'd be dead and not just sore.
    He sticks his tongue out at me. I cry more.
     
    But back home, nestled in an armchair in the glow of the fire,
    The sting of antiseptic on my chin soothed away by a mother's kiss,
    The drama is forgotten as we sip our "special" hot chocolate.
    Catching a marshmallow with his tongue
    He mutters "You okay? Sorry Sue"
    And smiles.
     
    And later, tucked up in bed,
    I wince a little as my tongue catches a slightly wobbly tooth.
    But I don't cry... instead I smile too.
    Maybe the Tooth Fairy will be visiting soon
    And I'll get my crown of jewels after all. 


    TRIPLES with EMMA