Imagine the Possibilities

I recently joined a small poetry group, The Nevermores, at Inked Voices. We take turns providing a prompt, then post sometime during the week. This past week, Patricia was inspired by a very poetic name she heard, so she challenged us to create a poem using a person’s name. My immediate thought went to Shel Silverstein’s “Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out.” I remember how much my kids and the kids I taught loved it. You can hear Shel Silverstein recite it here.

I used a list a poetic names, picked the first few that jumped out at me, and came up with Annabel Angelou Catherine Blake. So here is my poem, inspired by the late, great Shel Silverstein:

Annabel Angelou Catherine Blake
by Rose Cappelli

Annabel Angelou Catherine Blake
Harbored a love of chocolate cake.
A simple vanilla would just never do,
And lemon or angel food made her feel blue.

When invited to tea there was so much at stake.
She would ask in advance, will there be chocolate cake?
If the answer was no, she would simply not go.
Instead she’d eat five chocolate cakes in a row!

One day after eating her tenth chocolate cake,
She lay down in bed with a big belly ache.
Her tummy was covered in bumpy red spots,
It felt like her insides were tied up in knots.

The doctor was called to see what could be done
Because surely the dear girl was not having fun!
“No more chocolate for you!” the doctor affirmed.
An allergic reaction was promptly confirmed.

Now since Annabel Angelou Catherine Blake
Can no longer eat her beloved chocolate cake,
She’s developed a deep love of strawberry pie—
She’ll bake you a few if you care to drop by.
Draft, 2022 Rose Cappelli

Tricia has the round up this week at The Miss Rumphium Effect. There you find lots of poetry fun including a look at an Exquisite Corpse poem.

A friend of mine recently posted this picture of the sunrise taken at her shore house in New Jersey.

I love the way she captured the sun’s warm glow. I could almost hear those squawking gulls and crashing waves. It occured to me that it’s sometimes hard to tell a sunrise from a sunset in a picture. I thought a Tricube with its three parts might lend itself to capturing the beginning, middle, and end of a day at the beach. Thanks for the inspiration, Robin!

A Day at the Beach

morning sun
starts the day
streaking sky

seagulls squawk
children play
sand crabs scram

evening sun
ends the day
glowing low

Draft, 2022 Rose Cappelli

Laura has the round up today at Small Reads for Brighter Days along with a peek at her new book, We Belong. Be sure to stop by for some poetry fun.

In our house, the holidays often spill into January and February. I consider some of my decorations, like the Dickens Village houses and the Pfaltzgraff winterberry dishes to be as much about winter as they are about Christmas. At least that’s how I rationalize my procrastination to put them away – I simply want to enjoy them a bit longer. But this week we had an unusual spell of warm weather, and I knew it was time. Spring will be knocking on the door soon (I hope!) So we dragged out the boxes and packed everything up until next year. I’m already missing the warm lights of the houses along the windowsill. And this…

The Winterberry Mug

This morning
I wrapped my hand
around the winterberry mug —
that mug with the just-right feel,
that mug that holds the just-right pour of coffee.
Then I packed it away
with the other mugs and dishes—
those dishes with the red and white berries,
those dishes with the painted vines
curled around the edges
like memories curled around my heart.
Until next December,
when once again
I’ll wrap my hand around the winterberry mug,
remembering.
-Draft 2022 Rose Cappelli

Linda has the poetry roundup today at Teacher Dance. Head over there for a sweet celebration for Valentine’s Day and lots more poetry goodness.

Since Tuesday marked the beginning of the Lunar New Year, I wanted to commemorate it in some small way. So what could be better than breaking open a fortune cookie or two? Except, I didn’t have any fortune cookies, so I did the next best thing – I logged into a random fortune cookie generator. I admit, I went through a few before I found one I liked, which was fun, but certainly not as delicious. This one shouted to me boldly: “The important thing is to never stop questioning.”

I firmly believe that we need to remain curious and questioning throughout life, keeping that natural wonder from childhood alive. That fortune also was the inspiration for these two question poems.

The Visitor

Who’s been stalking through the yard,
crisscrossing,
searching?
Was it the red fox, our sometime visitor?
Or was it the antlered deer who scratches the tree trunk
and empties the feeder?
Friend or foe, will you return?
Will you stay, perhaps, for tea?
Draft, 2022 Rose Cappelli

Words

Why do I wake with words in my head,
swirling like snowflakes?
Will they land, blizzard-bold,
shouting of wonders?
Or will they settle, like whispered wishes,
on bare-branched trees?
Can I scoop them into a poem
that sings the day awake?
Draft, 2022 Rose Cappelli

Happy Lunar New Year! Remember to keep asking questions, and may the Year of the Tiger bring you courage and strength.

And by the way, I’m spending a few days with some writing friends at the Highlights Foundation Retreat Center. It’s cold and icy and will be snowing tomorrow, but I’m staying in the Nikki Grimes cabin (#9). I’m hoping some poetry genius rubs off while I’m here.

Elisabeth has the Poetry roundup today at Unexpected Intersections.

Often, as I sit with my morning coffee, I am entertained by a lively scene across the street. The little girl (not so little anymore) waits for the school bus, almost always accompanied by her mother. Over the years the scene has changed some. For a long time there were two girls, but one has left for college. A few years ago they were joined by a furry friend, and more recently, by another furry friend. But one thing remains the same – whether the bus is coming or going, there is always someone there to say goodbye or hello. My poem for today focuses on the two furry friends.

Goodbye/Hello

They prance and hop
to the top of the drive,
leashes tangled
in a jangle of excitement.

A yip-yap tiny fuss
when here it comes!
The bus
interrupts their play,
takes her away
until once again—

they prance and hop
to the top of the drive,
welcoming her home.

–2022 Rose Cappelli

Irene has the poetry roundup today at Live Your Poem, so head on over there for lots of poetry goodness.