Plum Tuckered

Plum Tuckered

I’m tired.

Despite the ever-growing to-do list, I am tired. Although I am looking forward to plenty of wonderful opportunities in the coming days, I am tired.

Still, I love these lines from Robert Frost’s famous poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Recently, I wrote an article for my “Poetry Pointers” series on Associated Content, titled “How to Write a Cinquain Poem.” (Click the title – or the link below – to read the entire article.)

Here’s an example I composed for the occasion:


Fatigue -
Dragging downwards,
Calling wakeful away
Beyond being, making mortals

c2010 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Have you ever written a cinquain poem? Why not try one? Leave your cinquain poem as a comment (below), or post a link  to your cinquain entry at your own blog or site.

Poetry Pointers: What is a cinquain poem, and how do you write one? What makes tightly structured five-line cinquain poems special? Here are simple instructions for creating cinquain poems, along with original and published examples.


In Situ

In Situ

As I write this blog entry, a treasured family member is undergoing surgery, replacing his cirrhotic liver with a donor organ. A 30-year-old man died tragically, but his organs may bring new life and a fresh start to my relative and many others in need.

Isn’t this a spiritual metaphor?

Can any of us bring new life to ourselves? In fact, real life often comes from death, as we see so beautifully expressed in the rebirth of spring all around us. And in the spiritual realm, are we not saved through the ultimate sacrificial death of all?

Vicarious Value

Capricious though our actions be,
Destroying psyche thoughtlessly,
And poisoning ourselves with glee –
We need a bailout, clear to see.

A new-sprung fountain, freshly filled,
May resurrect the body killed,
To gather up the lives we’ve spilled –
We need a force fit to rebuild.

Tumultuous, we bury law;
We flirt with foibles, flap the jaw,
Pursuing still a last hurrah –
Oh, how we need an inner thaw.

When will we gaze beyond the haze
To spot the One who merits praise?
We wander daily in a daze
And disregard divine displays.

What wonder may our lives rebirth?
Desires mask our deepest dearth.
May mercy reach beyond mere mirth
To summon us to lasting worth.

c2010 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Posted for a variety of prompts:
One Single Impression (“vicarious”)
Saturday Scribes (“capricious,” “new-sprung,” “thaw,” “tumultuous” and “psyche”)
Simply Snickers (“first, force” and “fresh”)
Weekend Wordsmith (“yawn”) or (“gaze”)

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Fretting or Forgetting?

Fretting or Forgetting?

Sometimes personal choices may be nobody’s business
… after all.

The Cellist
By Joseph DeCamp

Pulling Strings

A symphony cellist named Kate
Discovered her fate far too late.
A little off-key,
With no guarantee,
She never had time for a mate.

So Katie went tugging the string,
Despite her desire for a ring.
She kept perfect time,
Though missing her prime,
And only onstage did she swing.

Posted for a variety of prompts:
Mad Kane Limerick Prompts (“A symphony cellist named Kate…")
Meme Express (“nobody’s business”)

Love poetry? Check out Simply Snickers, a brand-new weekly poetry prompt. Try your hand with weekly prompts!  Or, look into The Meme Express for daily blogging prompts.

Click here to visit Linda Ann Nickerson’s poetry and humor blog, Nickers and Ink.

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