LEARNING TO RIDE

I lean to the left.
I tilt to the right.
Learning to ride
may cause me some fright.

I'll keep on practising.
I know I'll be great.
But first I must learn
to steer my bike straight.



     Can you write your own poem today that includes a bicycle or another form of transportation?  What ever you do, have fun.  Maybe you can write about your bicycle that has special powers.  Or write about using bicycle parts to make a machine.

A Year

In September, I got a new blue backpack to start school.

In May, a wren built a nest in the planter outside my window.  I heard the birds sing.

In November, Grandma sent me a new pair of soft red mittens.  I lost them before the new year.

In June, I went swimming in the cold water of the lake.

In January, I didn't celebrate my birthday, the snow was too deep.

In August, Grandpa took me fishing, I caught my first fish.

In October, Daddy took a trip to Texas and brought me back a t-shirt.

In February, my younger sister stole $5 from Mom's purse to buy books at the book fair.

In July, I ate six ears of buttered corn at the Fourth of July picnic.

In March, the frogs croaking down by the creek were so loud they kept me awake.

In December, I got a bicycle for Christmas and was so happy.

In April, it was National Poetry Month when I wrote this poem.

     Here is another list poem based on the months of the year.  I've mixed up the months to keep the poem more interesting and less predictable.  What line do you think is the most interesting?  I've tried to include the five senses--smell is probably the weakest in this poem.  What would make a better line to feature smell?
    So here is your assignment.  Write 12 lines of poetry based on the 12 months of the year.  Try to include your five senses.  Make one line a negative line of something you didn't do or something that didn't happen.  If you have a sibling, make one line about something your sibling did or likes.  Do you have a pet, devote one line to your pet. Start by making a list of things you've done, seen, received--that sort of thing, and then pick some interesting ones to shape into your poem.  Have fun.  Please share your creations with me in the comments below, or at least share your most or least interesting line.  Write on.

My BIKE

On Christmas morning,

I rush downstairs

and there it is

beside the tree

two shiny black tires

a cherry-red frame--

my own bicycle.

The one present

I really, really wanted.

On the handle bars

hanging,

like a Christmas tree ornament,

my bicycle helmet

with red flames

licking up the sides.

My bicycle,

my happiness,

my ticket 

to explore,

my freedom.

     Do you have a bicycle or is that on your Christmas wish list?  I remember my first bike.  My father got it from the Salvation Army Thrift Shop and painted it red for me.  He put wooden blocks on the pedals so I could reach them.  I was the only kid in my kindergarten class with a two wheel bicycle.  I learned early because I was always riding my older sister's bike.  But it was no where near as early as my own son who was riding a two wheeler when he was three years-old.  If you could fly on a bike, where would it take you?  What would the ride be like?  Can you write a poem about that?  Or write a poem about your own bicycle.  Have a fun time with this prompt.

Memory Poem

Knocking

Cycling in fifth grade

I pedaled a ride

with the girl scout troop.

The leader's

dimpled daughter,

with the platinum pageboy,

Loyal, bicycled first.

Packed in the middle

I was told

not to go ahead

of her complaining

I went too fast for

her aching knees.

The troop leader took

the rear

though there was nothing

to fear because she was

the only one

to go so slowly.

For two hours

I turned my wheels

to the sounds

of Loyal's silky, taunting,

"You can't' go ahead of me."

"You mustn't go in front."

"Do NOT go beyond me."

Her words a rasp--

the cheese grater

biting into my skin.

Finally,

I'd had enough

of NOTs and CAN'Ts,

wanting to feel

wind through my hair,

I made my dash--

pedaled for freedom

fast as I could

raced to my house,

hid in the closet.

Mother was shopping.

Loyal's mother chased.

She pumped so hard

her pedal pushers

showed the sweat.

Panting,

she knocked on my door.

My older sister answered

said I wasn't home.

Lately I've been working on some memory poems about things that happened when I was a kid.  Can you write a poem about something that happened to you today?  This morning there was a lizard running around in my bedroom.  I couldn't catch him. Every time I'd get close, he would scoot away.  I was trying to be careful because I didn't want him to drop his tail in fright.  I finally just opened the door to the outside and chased him to the doorway and he found his way out.  I'm thinking about that poem.  My friend Sally Buckner told me that Theodore Roethke had things he called thinkies the beginning thoughts for poems.  I think this event is a thinkie.  Have a good time writing.