This one is for this week's Intermediate Poetry class. The assignment was a Short Narrative, 12-14 lines with 10-12 syllables in each line, no rhyme or meter:
BIRTHDAY
They burst into my room on the stroke of midnight,
Arms full of candy and roses for my birthday.
We went to the theatre, my boyfriend and I,
Laughing at the antics of the wannabe Scots.
Then to dinner, then home – my real home this time.
Next day, more theatre, The Lion King was great.
Spice cake and ice cream on Sunday with my fam’ly,
Life cannot get any sweeter than today.
Then breakfast in bed, a holiday off from school.
Lazy day with family, playing in the yard.
But now the sun is setting, it’s time to go home,
And I can safely say, “Best birthday ever.”
This is one I wrote for last week, it's called a Quotielian. Basically, all we had to do was write down one observation/description per day. The last line was an adaptation of 2 lines from Macbeth, one where Lady Macbeth says, "Make thick my blood," and another where Banquo (or Macduff) says, "this guest of summer." So we twisted that around and stuck our versions on the end of our poems:
QUOTIELIAN
The near-full moon, robed in wisps of blue-white-grey cloud, climbs slowly into the sky.
His outfit - forest green pants, soft tan shirt, warm red necktie - the very image of a summer's day in the desert.
The curtains darkened the room so much that I thought the sun had gone out.
The clock creeps by with interminable slowness.
The two divas - one dark, one fair - sit side by side, eyeing the soloist with small, slightly mocking smiles.
The circles under her eyes are evidence of a sleepless night, and she sits with eyes downcast, the picture of boredom.
The audience trickles into the waiting theatre, noisy and uncultured, at home in this relaxed, expectant atmosphere.
Make sweet my song, this echo of merriment.
(yes, I know you've seen that bit about the divas before, but it just fit so well here)
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