Try this: Alphabet Poem

A friend recently created a poem by combining two of my favorite things — lists and thankfulness. In Love's Alphabet, poet Ann Staley uses the abcs as a frame to express gratitude. I like this idea. Let's try our own!

Send me your alphabet poems and I'll post them here on Thankful Thursday, the weekly pause of appreciation. Simply post your poems in the comment section below, or send your work via email to dcm@drewmyron.com.

Don't be shy — let's share our starts and scratches, our works-in-progress and works-at-rest. Let's exercise the writing muscle, aches and all.

Love's Alphabet
— Name one thing you love, says Steve

(Liberty) apples and Ace,
bed time,
the cats & Courtney.
Dusting, several Davids
errands (crossing off the list)
fabric stores
(Specialty ones like Pendleton,
or general, run-of-the-mill stores, like Joanne’s),
and friends — life-long like Kathy
or brand-new, like Bob, whom I met yesterday.
Granola, giraffes, and gingerbread,
hot dogs (with mustard, and a baseball game)
icicles
and jam.
Knitting needles all set up with angora yarn,
lemons and lemonade.
Marigolds along the walk-way border & between the rows.
NPR all the time
and river otters.
The P-E-A-C-E sign and the Post Office,
the quick and the quixotic.
The Romantics, a romantic, and any river.
Nighttime stars and sky and SR.
(Late August) tomatoes, Thanksgiving,
the unflappable,
Valentines on any day.
Writing, fooling around with words.
(There must be something besides xylaphon
which creates an unwelcome noise. Maybe
a flower or a bird, a scientific name!)
Xanthippe (I’ll let you look that up!),
and yellow.
Zurich, indeed,
all of Switzerland — in any season

- Ann Staley

Comments

[Auburn McCanta]

What do you want? My Dan asks.

An Answer, I say, or at least another Aperitif.
Bananas for your Blood
Count, maybe. I’ll take that.
See? I’m Dusting things
For your lungs to breathe Easy.
Your Energy is low, I notice.
Frightened? Yes.
I’m still Gathering Hints Into Jewels
Of why this happened.
Ka-ka-ka,
Cancer? Lung cancer?
Not even Maybe.
Not possible. Non smokers.
Not. Not. Not.
Oh, Oh, okay, Perhaps that one year
In your mid-teens, when
Performance equaled Quality,
And Risk equaled Sexiness.
Turn to now. Unwind. Unwind.
One small year inhaled.
Vexed? Of course, there’s no answer all these years later.
Why? Don’t ask, don’t Wonder.
X-Rays will say all gone, and
You will keep on, and you will become old.
Why? We will never know.
But, when we are old, and if I go first,
I promise to greet you,
In niche 22 at St. Mary’s Cemetery, next to
The statue of St. Francis of Xavier.
That is, of course, if I leave
This Zenith first. If you are first, however …
All bets are off.

[Drew]

Auburn,
This is a wonderful expression of gratitude even through, because of, difficult times.

I especially like the line: "I’m Dusting things
For your lungs to breathe Easy"

Lovely.

Thanks for sharing.