OctPoWriMo 7 - Bestest Friends

For as long as I remember
She was there
Doing everything together
Bestest friends
Sure, we had our fights and blowups
Who doesn’t?
But she is always there for me
And I for her
Though now we live so far apart
I miss her
You’ll always be my closest friend
My sister

OctPoWriMo 6 - When I Was a Child

When I was a child, I wanted to be a nurse
My mother had been a nurse and I wanted to be like her
She was my hero

When I was a child, I wanted to be a mom
I was the oldest of eight, but I wanted sixteen
I love a full house

When I was a child, I wanted to be a writer
My sister and I were always making up stories
We still do

OctPoWriMo 5 - Friday

Thank God it’s Friday
The weekend is almost here
Yet, I love my job

OctPoWriMo 4 - Life as a Play

Sometimes my life is like a fairy tale
Some days I win, while other days I fail
There are days it is a comedy
At other times, it seems a tragedy

OctPoWriMo 3 - Questions and Answers

I was surfing the net (is that phrase still in vogue? maybe I'm dating myself) when I discovered a poetry form I hadn't heard of before: the Haibun. I was fascinated by this form, and had to try my hand at it.

Questions and Answers


We often wonder “Why are we here?” and “What is the meaning of life?” The answer, I have heard--to life, the universe, and everything--is 42.

What is the question?
Now, that is a good question.
Only God knows that.

OctPoWriMo 2 - Dreams

The Sonnet is probably my favourite poetry form. I love the musicality of it. Yesterday’s poem was an English (or Shakespearean) sonnet. Today, I’m going to try an Italian (or Petrarchan). The Italian sonnet is much more difficult, as every line rhymes with at least one other line.

Dreams

I’ve always dreamed I’d one day be a mom.

Yes, I’d like to be successful too:

To see my name in print would be so cool,

To reach the world with words, and to become

Alive and free, no longer cold and numb.

I love to dream up worlds: make something new,

To ask the questions “Where?” and “Why?” and “Who?”

Yet, times I’d rather change a baby’s bum.

I believe I’ll realise my dreams,

Although they seem so far away right now.

“Nothing is impossible!” I scream;

My barbaric yawp drowns out the “How?”

And all I see is distant joyful gleams.

OctPoWriMo 1 - New Moon

What is it that makes a new moon “new”?
Is it like the first page of a book,
Before the story starts, before “Page 1,”
That blank white sheet it seems words have forsook?

Or maybe it’s the writer’s blank notebook
Ready for adventures to begin,
Waiting for the pen to start the tale
Of love and loss and epic fights to win.

And at the end when all is said and done
The full moon fills the nighttime sky with light,
The story fills the heart and soul with joy,
And for a fleeting moment, all is right.

But then the cycle must needs start anew:
The moon will wane; the joy will fade too.