Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts

Friday, March 20, 2009

Poetry Friday: S is for Spring and Silliness


It's spring! Finally! Let's get giddy and have a poetry contest. It works like this: I give you the first two lines, you complete them. 

Ready? Here you go---

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz . . .

Sara:

I wonder where
my refund iz.

the world was flat
but now has curvz.

the muse's fuse
feeds on sappy fizz.

Your turn! Post your verse in the comments.  One silly poet will receive this not-so-silly Whitman shirt, which reads:

"And our visions, the visions of poets, the most solid announcements of any."
— Walt Whitman

...and the submissions are rolling cavorting in!  I'm going to pull them from the comments and reprint them here.

Liz in Ink said...

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz

the squirrel eats birdseed
like it's hiz

The birds don't care --
they're in the treez

which, all a'bloom now,
make me sneeze

And so I trip
while skipping rope

but spring's eternal --
so iz hope

Sara: Hee! hiz majesty, the squirrel. And yes to eternal hope!

tanita s. davis said...

Spring iz sprung
the grass is riz

March madness croons
to herz and hiz

The sunshine shootz
Across the bowz
and highlights winterz
wobbly woez

Frisk some! Frolic!
Leap your fencez!
Let your Muse roam
And feed your sensez!

Sara: oh, my frisky feet, how I love the phrase "winterz wobbly woez."

susan said...
I can do sistagirl, funny, dark, but silly? I wish I could because I'd love to win the Whitman shirt. 

Sara:  YES, Susan, you can do any kind of poem you want. Come back and post in the comments.

jama said...

Spring iz sprung
the grass is riz

Sara's hippin' and hoppin'
with this poetry biz.

I tell you true
This ain't no lie
I used her refund
to buy a popcorn pie.

Sara: Jama, you sneak! But mmmm on the popcorn pie.

 
Jules at 7-Imp said...
I asked my daughter, five years old, who is sitting here painting a bird house for spring, to finish it:

"Spring is sprung
the grass is riz . . .

With birdies polka-dotted
Pink and purple

Tastes like peppermint
Fudgy sand

Every day
We go to the land

And by the sea
It tastes like pears

And the sun tastes like lemon
‘Cause it’s yellow as hemons."

Sara: jules, I'm floored.  "and by the sea/it tastes like pears"  I want to go all Stacy London and yell in dazed delight:  Shut up!  But that might scare your wee one.  And fudgy sand . . . oh my.
 
Neverending story said...

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz

down here it puts
me in a tiz

To be..(lieve)or not
to be ..deceived,
as tropical rain
invades my brain.

Snow, spring,
cherry blossom
don't they all
belong in fiction?

Sara:  puts me in a tiz, too.  Love the snow, spring/cherry blossom.

RM1(SS) (ret) said...

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz
And oh, how nice
The weather iz.

But sumer is
Icomen in,
And then will come
Autumn and win-

Ter, and spring
Again - what fun!
As the world
goes 'round the sun.

(WV: tinglys - those odd little feelings....)

Sara: oh, yeah, those creative line breaks--- you are leaping some fences.  Tinglys!

Tricia said...

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz
new leaves are hung.

Who's that strip-ed, flying whiz?
The buzzing bee
who steals sweet nectar
from the treez-

spring's bloomin' director.

Sara:  Tricia, I love the idea of a "bloomin' director."  I know you're in a play right now, so I hope it's all "sweet nectar" for you and the cast.

jacqui said:

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz
my son eats boots
that iz not hiz

on the branchlings
flowers bud
all the yard be
frozen mud

beasties wake from
hibernation
squirrely chews through
insulation

mother goose swims
with her brood
I haz a bad
attitude

cuz birdies twitter
beezies swarm
but it’s still not
getting WARM

Sara:  Hee. Would it be okay if your son ate hiz own boots? And I'm sorry about the not warm part. You Michiganites take it hard in winter.  Maybe if you stomped your feet a bit? :)

cloudscome said:

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz

my eyes are blurry
from this quiz.

The breeze is cold
the sun's a lie

the geese in circles
round me fly.

I'm stuck inside
this cold wet day

a poet's game
I'm doomed to play.

Sara:  oh, no. But games are FUN.  With friends, anyway. I'm glad you stayed in to play. 


Mary Lee said:

Spring is sprung
the grass is riz
hello spring break
goodbye to kidz.

Hello spring break
you'll cure my blahz
I'll sing to you
a week of ahhhhhz.

I'll sing to you
I'll get my restz
'cause we go back
to dadgum testz!

Sara:  Enjoy your ahhhhhz, Mary Lee. You deserve it!

Karen E. said:

Spring is sprung,
the grass is riz
I should be doing
cleaning biz

Instead I sit
and read these lines
ignoring dirt
and cobweb vines

Poetry Friday
always wins
I'm left confessing
a housewive's sins

'Twould appear I'm lazy
and lack ambition
but poetry-reading
offers nutrition

'Twill fuel me up
for the rest of the day
and stay with me
as I jump in the fray.

Sara: yes, poetry is verrrry nutritious, much more so than house cleaning. Besides, a few cobwebs are poetic anyway, right? 

Kelly Polark said:

Spring is sprung.
The grass is riz.
I pour my coke,
I feel the fizz.

Out on the porch,
I sip and smile.
First time I've done
This in a while.

Spring is sprung.
The air is sweet.
Warm sun is out.
An April treat!

Sara:  Hey! Now you have me craving a fizzy soda! Does your porch have a swing?

Little Willow said:

Spring iz sprung
the grass is riz

I try for sleep
and lots of zzzzs

With lots on my plate
and good things ahead

Spring has sprung
and off I ped

Sara:  I try for lots of  zzzzzzs, too. And I can't wait to hear about your "good things ahead," Little Willow!

The rest of you: Keep 'em leaping in.  I'll leave the contest open until midnight on Sunday. Then I'll put all the poets' names in a spring hat and draw out the winner, to be announced on Monday.

Poetry Friday is hosted by Elaine at Wild Rose Reader.