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Mary-Eliz May 2018
He was just thirteen,
still a child,
when he lost his leg.
A tent pole from
a church revival
crushed
the life out of it.
I remember hearing
stories...
gangrene,
doctors having to wait
too long...
something about my grandfather...
they couldn't find him
or
he wouldn't sign
papers.

I'm not sure.
The memories of the stories
are fuzzy.
I just know
my daddy had a wooden leg.

It was his right leg...
I think.

We took it for granted.
It seemed so normal,
his prosthesis.  We never
called it
that...
prosthesis.
It was his
wooden leg.

You might not expect it,
with a wooden leg and all,
but my daddy was
a great dancer.
Light as a whisper.
When he danced,
nobody knew...
about his leg.
And those who did know
forgot.

I can see him gliding
around the dance floor
with my mom in his arms.
They were as one,
swaying and moving
with the music.

Sometimes...

I got to dance with him.
I remember it so well.
I can close my eyes
and
feel the smooth
polished floor
under my feet
and
my daddy's strong
arms around me.

When I danced
with my daddy
I was secure
and
confident.
I felt graceful
and
flowing.
He guided you,
smooth and easy,
so natural.
I can still feel the lilting rhythm.

Now

I'm not a great dancer,
though I'd like to be,
but
when I danced
with my daddy
I could dance.
I was agile
             and fluid
                    and free.

I skimmed the air.

'Cause even with
a wooden leg,

my daddy,

he sure could dance.
This is a "rerun" but some things I've been reading and writing made me think of my daddy, feel nostalgic. He's been gone a good while as he died too young, but I hope he and my mom are still dancing somewhere!
  May 2018 Mary-Eliz
Traveler
Don't you have something better to do?
I mean come on now!
Really!
Another post?

I'm sure your floor needs sweeping
And
There's a pile of clothes at the end of your bed
Your under arms are a bit stinky
Brush your teeth and comb your head!

My goodness...
There's a forest growing
Where your lawn used to be!
And the oil light is on
In your 2003
Ya, time to get a new Jeep

This week's ***** dishes have grown green
The trashcan smells like rotten meat
The world stands still awaiting your care...
And here you are
Wasting away with me right here!
Traveler Tim
Mary-Eliz May 2018
long-legged brothers
daddy long legs, too

hurry, scurry

wait up,
I can't keep up with you

slow down
wait for me

I'm lagging
don't you see


~~~~~~~~~~

read...read...

scurry...scurry

always feeling in a hurry

so many...so much
you write too fast

it's like walk-running
in the past

slow down...
I lag behind it's true

slow down, wait for me
I can't keep up!

I can't keep up with you!
I know I likely miss a lot of real gems but oh lordy! it is hard to keep up. I still have short legs and walk fast :-)
Mary-Eliz May 2018
set down on satin lining
velvet box laid cautiously
placed on top of other cargo
for the voyage on the sea

strands of precious shining stones
stowed in Captain's quarters
second mate stood by to guard
it was the Captain's orders

secured and safely in the hold
I had no need to fret
the lateen sails were readied
drawn up the mast and set

sun shone brilliant, sky so clear
along Africa's gold coast shore
the journey would be smooth
captain couldn't have asked for more

with Portugal as destination
and royalty waiting there
crew's footsteps scurried on the deck
there was excitement in the air

the caravel set out to sail
'twas in the sixth month of the year
that traditional wedding time
and the date was coming near

the date I had to be delivered
for the princess bride to be
to be worn above her ***** fair
sparkling gems from 'cross the sea

I'll match her love-filled eyes
and complete the four required
not sure of old or new or borrowed
but for blue she'll have sapphire.
Oh my! What an "assignment"...prompt word: caravel.; write from the perspective of something blue.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
Behind every dream, every hope lies
visions of something surely better
some are grandiose, some fantasy
others are practical to the letter

yet all are fondly held within
until their time is right, unfazed by falls,
rocky road or rough terrain
equally valuable to those who
quest for them with all they have inside
not giving up so they can proudly say I tried.
Ten letters assigned by someone who chose them randomly.  First of each line, at least 5 words per line.
Not great but I can say "I tried." And thanks for playing along, Verlie
Mary-Eliz May 2018
I find this challenge daunting
one that I’ve not tried before
hope my efforts are not wanting
and that I get a decent score

My stress, oh lord, is mounting
instead of having spirits soar

Hope my efforts are not wanting
I’ve tied myself in knots galore
as this contest is so taunting
and has become a frightful chore

My stress, oh lord, is mounting
instead of having spirits soar

as this contest is so taunting
why did I make the challenge more
I didn’t set out to be vaunting
please help my rhyming I implore

My stress, oh lord, is mounting
instead of having spirits soar

I didn’t set out to be vaunting
oh! thank god I’m on verse four
with this exercise so exhausting
I'm quite sure I couldn't do one more

My stress, oh lord, is mounting
instead of having spirits soar
Roundelay
  By Lawrence Eberhart | January 14, 2013 | didactic
There is some confusion online as to the meaning of the term “roundelay,” with some references confusing it with the French “rondelet” and others describing it as any poem with a refrain. Actually, the roundelay, rondelet, rondeau, rondel, and other similar sounding poems all spring from a common French origin, but are all very different in contemporary use. The roundelay’s many repeating couplets and limited rhymes can make it a difficult form to write, but as with many successful poems with refrains, can also make for profound or esoteric poetry.
The roundelay consists of four sestets (six-line stanzas) made up of twelve repeating couplets (two-line stanzas, one of which repeats as each stanza’s last two lines. The stanzas’ couplets A,B,C,D ,E and R (the continuing refrain) combine in the following pattern:
A B R … B C R … C D R … D E R
So, in the second stanza, “B C R” represents six-lines (three couplets), with couplet “B” repeating from the first stanza, couplet “C” repeating in the following stanza, and its last couplet “R” repeating as every stanza’s last two lines. In addition, each couplet’s first line rhymes with other couplets’ first lines and all second lines rhyme with each other as well, making the rhyme scheme:
a-b-a-b-a-b … a-b-a-b-a-b … a-b-a-b-a-b … a-b-a-b-a-b
Remember that in a rhyming pattern, lines ending in a sound designated by “a” only rhyme with other “a” lines, “b” lines only with other “b” lines, and so on.
Trochaic tetrameter (four feet of “DUM-dah” per line, see “Meter”) is a requirement, but it is permissible for some of the lines to be one syllable short.


Ha-ha-ha!! Neither profound nor esoteric.
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