Tuesday, May 26, 2009

On Top of the Flue (Revised)

Clover and I climbed the flue
because i was feeling blue.

When Clover and I got to the top,
I yelled yoohoo.

Then I heard the cop
who was next to my pop

tell me not to jump,
so I sat on my rump.

When Elsie bellowed moo.
and i wondered oooooo;

how to get this bovine
off this chimney of mine.

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Chris said...

I see you write with passion --

Imagine each word in your poem is a bush stroke in a painting. Each one precious. Each word like a bush stroke is blended, a mix of colors, shadow and light.

Paint your words minimally use each one sparingly.

Your favorite poems by other authors, do they paint pictures in your mind? Each word or stanza it's own complete image relating to the whole?

Sef said...

I like them to paint a picture, and have every word and stanza relate to the whole.