The first poem is a warm up kind of exercise I do when nothing occurs to me. Tonight it was more poem-like, so I decided it counts. The second is a bit didactic, but okay, so it counts too. Not my best work, but you gotta put out some that aren't great to get to the good stuff too. I can feel I'm not in the right space tonight, but that happens too.
Sounds
My Mind Makes During Pancakes
Pat,
pat, pat,
Tap,
tap, tip,
Rip,
pat, sip,
Lap,
fat, cat,
Pal,
gal, cow,
Moo,
shoe, poo,
Crew,
stew, woo,
Goo,
sue, clue,
Glue,
too, tutu,
Pink,
think, drink,
Sthink,
clink, clunk
Teacher’s
Peach
Teaching
is like selecting
The
perfect peach
You
see it, the beauty as it forms,
It
hangs there just out of reach,
And
you think how good it will taste
You
can smell how the sun
Has
ripened it
And
how sweet it must taste
But
you know it isn’t the time
Yet
to pick it
It
must stay until it is ripe
You
watch and wait
You
hope it rains enough
And
it is hot enough
Just
the right conditions
And
the day comes
You
get your ladder
To
reach up for that
Perfect
ripe peach
You
almost want to keep
It
hanging on the tree
It
will taste so good
But
after that
You
can’t think about that
You
pick it and carefully
Go
back down the ladder
You
show it to everyone
And
then you sink your teeth
Into
that amazing peach
It
is better then you thought
As
the juices run
Down
your arms and face
But
you don’t care
You
want to savor
Every
bite and so its messy,
It
is the best thing ever!
Then
it is gone
The
curious, wrinkled pit
You
hold is all that is left
You
look at it
In
wonder that a peach
Such
a perfect fruit
Came
from something so
Ugly,
unrefined, and rough,
Yet
you know the power of what
Is
inside that pit
So
you plant it
Knowing
that many years
From
now that same peach
Or
one maybe even better
Will
hang on the tree
Made
from that central
Thing
you just planted
And
you walk away
From
the orchard
Happy
that you found
The
perfect pit to plant today
Tomorrow
you hope
There
is another one
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