Flying Circus

Alexey Goral, Creative Commons via Wikimedia Commons

Step right up! Take a peek!

Spy the Striking Circus Fly!

Above the crowd she spins, she streaks.

There isn’t a ring she won’t fly.

With daring feet, she cruises your cheek,

Gathering crumbs before they fly.

No matter how well your swatter sneaks,

No act can beat the Circus Fly! 


© 2012 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved


Today’s poem was inspired by Laura Purdie Salas’ 15 words-or-less photo of two fencers who looked to me like flies. http://laurasalas.wordpress.com/2012/05/24/fencin/ I then took up Miss Rumphius’ challenge to write a kyrielle, a set of couplets that end with the same word.    http://missrumphiuseffect.blogspot.com/2012/05/monday-poetry-stretch-kyrielle.html
So there you have it–a kyrielle about a fly. Thank you to both Laura and Miss Rumphius for putting out their weekly inspirational challenges.

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Birth Moon

round, white
scar
severed connection
useless remnant of the blasted
birth
of all

© 2012 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

I just returned from Poetry for All, a children’s poetry workshop, at the Highlights Foundation in Boyds Mill, PA. It was such a pleasure to spend all my waking hours thinking about poetry. Our wonderful faculty included David L. Harrison, Eileen Spinelli, and Rebecca Kai Dotlich. Marjorie Maddox, author of  A Crossing of Zebras and Rules of the Game: Baseball Poems came one night and walked us through an exercise about extended metaphor. I wrote this that night back in my quiet, little cabin.

Full Moon from Creative Commons by gnuckx
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Good-Bye Old Shoes

I know I can’t wear them one more day.
They pinch my toes. It hurts when I play.
My mom says it’s time to give them away,
But I’m not ready. I want them to stay.
I remember the day I got these shoes.
I remember the way they looked brand new.
The white was so white; the blue, so blue.
They were meant to be mine. I swear it’s true.
When I first put them on, I wanted to roar.
I felt so springy, I leapt to the floor.
I felt so fast, I ran through the store. 
I needed more room, so I dashed out the door.
I’ve worn these shoes for weeks and weeks.
I’ve worn them to hide. I’ve worn them to seek.
I’ve worn them to sneak and peek and streak.
On rainy days I can make them squeak.
If I give them away, where will they go?
Will their feelings be hurt? How will I know?
Could anyone else love them so?
Someone should invent shoes that grow.

© 2012 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

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Detour

On my way to the desk
I tripped on the rug.
When I looked to see why
I found my lost bug!

I tucked the blue cockroach
In my box of cool rocks,
And that’s where I found
My best holey socks.

Lying there, crumpled
They looked like a cat.
Except without ears.
I had to fix that.

I grabbed an old t-shirt
I started to cut.
I noticed the shirt had
A hole in the gut.

I got a red marker.
I started to sing.
I hit the right note
To make my walls ring.

That’s when my mom
Knocked on the door.
I put on the shirt.
I dropped to the floor.

“Where is your homework?”
She asked without blinking.
To my desk I waved weakly.  
My poor heart was sinking.

“Then why are you there?”
She sounded unsure.
I answered her truly:
“I took a detour.”

© 2012 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

I wrote this in response to David L. Harrison’s April word-of-the-month challenge http://davidlharrison.wordpress.com/adult-word-of-the-month-poem/. Unfortunately, I never got to post it there because I didn’t finish until May. I took a detour.

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