MY TELEPHONE

My telephone
is really scared,
afraid he'll make
a mistake.
He hates to text
or make a sound,
all he does is
S H A K E.
 

     Happy Saturday.  I started to work on a second verse for this poem, but after I got it written, I felt like it was a bad joke that carries on when the teller doesn't trust that you've gotten the punch line the first time.  So, I got rid of that verse and will save it for a second poem.  Have you found that you sometimes do that too?  You push a poem too hard and carry it on past the point when the poem is done?  What do you do when that happens.  Lot's of poems I read would be better as two poems. 
So here is your task today--write a little poem.  Start close.  Is there something in your pocket you can write about?  Is there something you are wearing?  I have a tiny band-aid on my arm from where I got my flu shot.  Maybe you can write about a freckle a scar or a mole.  Do you have a blister?  There are lots of possibilities if you start close.  Have a great day writing your poem and if you'd like to share it in the comments, I'd love to read it.

Purple Finch

Two purple finch
sat on a telephone line,
said one to the other,
"Oh I opine
that today
will be 
sunny and fine."

Said the second finch
to the first,
"I think this weather
is the worst--
desert living
is a curse."

"Ah," said the first finch,
"it all depends
on where your happiness
begins and ends. 
I know I can make this
a very good day,
but I will allow you
to have your say."
 
  Oh my goodness, that does need work, but I had so much fun thinking about the conversation between the two finch sitting on the wire this morning.  The bright purple male, who is really red, probably was saying "Hey, Honey want to come check out my nest?"  It is definitely that time around our house where all the animals are pairing up.  Can you write a poem today that is a conversation between two of something?  What do you think your shoelace would have to say to your shoe?  Could your spoon have something to say to your morning oatmeal?  What would a washrag say to your face, or your ears?  I know you can have fun with this prompt.  If you'd like to share your poem, please leave it in the comments below.