Hello, and welcome! This is 15 Words or Less Poems, a low-pressure way to wake up your poetry brain (guidelines here), and I’m very glad you’re here.
I’m not going to tell you what this one is. It’s whatever you make of it!
This image makes me think of several things:
- the silica packets inside shoes
- dried seedheads in the snow
- the view through a microscope
And here’s my first draft. Oh, my, I struggled with this. I so wanted to write about a vampire who wanted to suck moisture from air instead of human blood. But just couldn’t find a way in 15 words.
It’s your turn! Have fun and stick to 15 WORDS OR LESS! (Title doesn’t count toward word count.)
26 Responses
What a fun tribute to those hard working silica packets, Laura. I saw a bird bath in early winter.
leaf boats
in icy bird bath
frozen flotilla
Very nice Lauren. I love the sound of “floating flotilla.”
Ooh–love the image and the metaphor and the alliteration. So much in so few words!
Broken beads of glass
in a bowl full of sorrow
light for a new world.
Margaret, your words are timely this morning, for sure. We can all identify with the bowl full of sorrow.
Sometimes it feels like we’re always trying to scrabble up the sides of a bowl full of sorrow. Thankful for light, including the light of your poetry, Margaret!
I going to guess a bucket of salt for snow
poem by Jessica Bight
Snow Cones
Grape and cherry smiles
giggle slushy sloshy slurps
of surgery iced crunches
of happiness
I can see it and taste it Jessica!
Good guess, but nope! What a tasty poem. Funny how writing about something so cold brings back so many summer memories!
My teeth are hurting just thinking about that sugary ice. Love it!
Never mind the vampire Laura. You can’t go wrong with the word “sneaker.” My first glimpse prompted a dinner-sized stoneware plate placed in front of a little boy. Overwhelming!
Little Johnny’s Dinner
One beet eaten
peas pushed aside
scarfed mac ‘n cheese
basked in mama’s pride.
A fun rhyme that brings me back to feeding my kids when they were little.
Oh, my, the memories of dinner table battles when I was a kid. (Never over mac ‘n cheese, though!)
I’m with Johnny, “peas pushed aside” (yuk to peas), love your poem.
Thanks for the inspiration this morning, Laura.
Hershey Park with Dad
I am seven again
holding a
sweet blue raspberry snowcone
my heart
and fingers numb.
By Ann Magee
Ahh yes Ann. And I wonder if we experienced what we now know as “brain freeze.” Sweet memories!
Ooh, Ann, I am pulled in two emotional directions here. This feels like part of a deep story. Love the detail of that sweet blue raspberry snowcone…
Yes, Laura. That’s it exactly.
This is great Ann, I’m pulled right into your memory.
LAST ONE TO BREAKFAST
Just one blueberry,
all I get
in my oatmeal.
I’m upset!
Ha! I would be, too!
At the Bottom of My Milkshake
Two eyes
a mouth
a face of froth…
I slurp until
your staring stops!
Love this!
This is excellent. I love the image.
A poem about silica, Laura you never cease to amaze me. All I saw was a bowl of sugar. I was up all night making Donkey cookies in Red, White, and blue sugar crystals for my son’s Presidents Day treat. He was Andrew Jackson, so hence the Donkey cookies.
Donkey Delight
Sugar, sugar, sugar;
Cookie snack today.
Little Presidents delight,
and shout,
“Hip, hip, hooray!”
I like your mystery photo, Laura. But it looks like your site forgot who I was again. Oh well, here goes!
Cradle a bowl
of blue in your hands-
little flowers, high sky,
a grandma’s rheumy eye.
-Kate Coombs