I wrote this poem some time ago.
Then one day I saw this contest in a magazine. It was for a poetry site where
you submit for an anthology poetry book.
Yes–prizes where supposed to be awarded.
The book it was supposed to be in was expensive and designed beautifully.
Your poem could be on mugs, magnets and more.
Well–I never won one of the prizes. But some time later—my poem appeared
on a poetry online website. Daily people could vote on whether they liked it or not.
Just because I submitted to one contest (I obtain copyright to this poem)—it seems like they say went forth and multiplied.
Which goes to say—you never know what you are getting into.
So here is my poem. I found out it is on Poetry.com—currently.
How did you get your name
It is quite a shame
The way people pluck out
Your dainty yellow head
Peeping shyly out of flowerbeds
Tossed out of lawns, dead
Sitting so shiny and bright
It does not seem right
Something so pretty
Considered a noxious weed
Would you believe
Is a first hint of spring.
I can remember when a rainy day was fun. As a child I had a matching raincoat with umbrella. It was so comforting to splash through the puddles in the blue raincoat with the roses.
Umbrellas were dependable. Some were big like a man’s or adult sized one. Maybe some were heavy or large but they opened easily.
Then umbrellas got smaller—more compact. Some had easy to close buttons.
Recently in the spring I was using my brown umbrella with the easy to open button. As I crossed the grocery store parking lot—I tried to close it. ” Ouch!!!” It took a big chunk of skin off my finger. It was good the store had band aids–and something to stop the bleeding.
Then a few months ago–I picked up an umbrella that was new but belonged to a relative. The darn thing snapped me in the face as I opened it.
Stop and check to see if that the umbrella is safe. Before you use it.
Plenty of rainy days ahead.
Like Gene Kelly in that movie….you might want to sing in the rain.
Ah—-the season of the feast. People roaming around the supermarket with shopping carts(wagons) busily looking down at long lists of things to get. Husband and wife–joined together—she swoops—he attacks—yes got the can of cranberries.
Others are hypnotized by looking at a phone—the wise voice on the other end—knows all—sees all—-tells them what to get.
Gobble….gobble…the cause of it all—some heavy—frozen—iced bird—you can not even lift..
Enjoy your feast all.