Gravitational Force

Gravity
forces
birds
bees
leaves
and
me 
to 
float
drop
fall
toward
earth


     I've been working on some spine poems lately.  These are long slim poems with only one or two words on each line.  Can you write your own spine poem today?
You might have fun writing from the bottom up.

sky
the
into
bird
a
like
float
to
air
expanding
heats
balloon
air
hot
a


   Have a great weekend. Write some poems.  Have fun.

Poetry Friday is hosted by Sherry  at Semicolon this week. And Co-hosted by Matt Forest at Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme.

PROGRESSIVE POEM 

Each day during the month of April I will add a line to this poem.

WHAT IS POETRY? 

 
You don't have to suffer to be a poet.  Adolescence is enough suffering for anyone. --John Ciardi

  It is finding the truth, no need to lie.

  It's munching on watermelon and letting seeds fly.

 
  It's a letter that comes with a card in the mail.

  It's the lacy silver threads left by a garden snail.

 
  It's daffodil trumpets covering the hill.

  It's a deer at the creek, drinking her fill.

 
  It's giggling and laughing and being absurd.

  It's reading a haiku and feeling each word. 
   

It's a dragon who blows flames, loud and hardy.

   It's fairies in the garden having a tea party.

 
  It's the sound of a truck shifting its gears.

  It's the feel of two soft puppy dog ears.

 
  It's a bright sun rise and glowing moon shine.

  It's a Carolina wren singing in a Lob-lolly pine.

 

 
  It's a snowman rolled on a cold winter morn.

  It's crows calling from tall tasseled corn.

 

 
 It's the whisper of hummingbird wings in the air.

  It's plaits and curls tied with bows in my hair.

 

It's spying a bird feeding her young.

It's pink cotton candy that melts on your tongue.

 

It's watching black ants as they march by.

It's corn on the cob for the Fourth of July.

It's a bumble bee tumbling inside a rose.

It's dandelion puffs tickling my nose.

 

It's a penny tossed in a wishing well. 

It's the cackle of a witch casting a spell. 

It's roasting marshmallows over a campfire flame.

It's squirrels in the poplar trees playing a game.

It's mermaids on a rock, combing their hair.
It's hearing a hot air balloon in the air.

Hot Air Balloon

I'm leaving town
I'll be back soon
I'm taking a ride
in a hot air balloon.

The noise is loud
when the burners fire.
The heat takes me up
higher and higher.

I float in the sky.
It's a wonderful thing.
Now I know why
flying birds sing.

     I saw a hot air balloon floating on the horizon on Saturday and I've been thinking about it all week.  I'm going to draw a picture to go with this poem.  It shouldn't be too hard to draw a hot air balloon.  Today try drawing your picture first and then write your poem to go with it.  I'm thinking easy shapes, like an apple or a sail boat.  What do you think?