Welcome

This is my playground for poetry written for children with ideas and inspiration for writing your own poems. Come on in. Sit for a spell, have a cup of words to swirl around and make your own cup of poetry. I'm so glad you are here. I hope you'll find the Kingdom of Poetry a fun place to be.

Friday, January 24, 2014

haiku

First calls from the wash
wibble-wobble of small quails
coyote pups yip


     This haiku needs some explanation.  The wash is the sandy dry river bed that runs through the bottom of the canyon. As I took my morning walk I heard a funny sound coming from that direction.  That wibble-wobble at first sounded like a large covey of baby quail being herded by adult Gambel's Quail.  It sounded   like the flexing of metal sheets, like a saw might make if you were going to play a saw. It is a little early in the season, but in another month we'll be able to start counting those large groups of quail herding the golf ball sized chicks across the road and around the cacti.  You've got to be able to count fast.  I've seen as many as 32 in a group.  Often the chicks are out of sight before I'm done counting.  So this is what I thought I heard until I had the opportunity to listen a little longer in the quiet air.  It was the sound of young coyote pups yipping in excited little yaps.  So now you know where the quaillets go for breakfast.

   Your challenge for today is to write about the first thing you saw this morning.  Have fun using all your senses.  Happy Friday.  Happy poetry.

  The Poetry Friday Roundup is being hosted by Tara at her new blog site A Teaching Life today.  Thanks Tara for a great poetry party.

14 comments:

  1. empty wine glasses
    the dregs of last night's dinner
    you, at home again

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Doriane, Thanks for sharing your lovely poem. I can see the red wine residue in the bottom of the glass, the lipstick smudge and the little fat globules from the grilled steak. This is really good.

      Delete
  2. baby and tree
    in silhouette
    blue against darker blue
    at midnight

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Lovely, thanks for sharing, Kortnery, For some reason this reminded me of sitting on the front porch nursing my baby in the night and thinking that the moon had seen women from the beginning of time sitting doing the same thing--all those mothers. Sort of like realizing that you're breathing the same air that Christopher Columbus breathed, or Cleopatra.

      Delete
  3. Joy,
    What a great explanation and poem. Thanks!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey Linda,
      I'm getting eager for February. Hope you have some fun calendar days for us.

      Delete
  4. this morning
    moonset
    milkman driving slowly
    my milk on its way!



    Love your 'wibble wobble', & remember loving seeing those special quail.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Linda, thanks for this. It brought a flood of memories about milk delivery. All day yesterday the sun hid and your poem made me think of the wet streets and the truck pulling up in the early morning to drop off the milk bottles and the clink of the glass. Great memories.

      Delete
  5. Thanks for an audio clip from the desert!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for the chuckle, Mary Lee.

      Delete
  6. For some reason, my first try at this just disappeared.

    Weak morning light
    pushes around the curtains
    smell of fresh coffee

    I love all the sounds in your poem. It was nice to take a visit to the desert today.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rosi,
      Thanks for the smell of the coffee. I needed it this morning.

      Delete
  7. Watching the quail parade across my back yard was definitely one of the highlights when I lived in New Mexico! (I remember the coyote calls as well, but was never lucky enough to hear any pups.) Thanks for bringing back these happy memories for me.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You are very welcome Michelle. Sure wish I could put some of those coyote serenades in a box and send them to you.

      Delete