Choosing from the Rainbow

In talks with older women now about careers pursued.

Responses may be passionate, but often are subdued.

A teacher, nurse, or kitchen staff, there’s little they could do

A crayon pack of only eight, the options then were few.

But now the rainbow’s opened up, the choices vast and wide

Those starting out to carve their niche are struggling to decide.

From hotel clerk to president, and all shades in between

A palette’s flooded with more hues than folks have ever seen.

In talking to those younger ones about which way to go

I’m little help except to say the one thing they should know:

If once you make a certain choice and find you are opposed

You’re always free to pick again; the box is never closed.


This is written for http://www.napowrimo.net/.  I'm two days late getting on board, but hoping to make up for lost time.  The poem is a fourteener, having fourteen syllables per line.

Angst Acrostic Only Blogsite Submission

As time for my finals grew near,
Not one single fact would adhere.
Got an F on my tests
So I thought it was best
To audit my classes next year.

WDC Country Music Lover's contest entry

Begging for Pardon

Temptation played me many times
And set me up in minor crimes.
Of course my mind knew wrong from right,
But impulse fought the better fight.

And as the ripples took effect
Some folks were harmed; I lost respect.
To those I hurt along the way
These are the words I have to say,

Chorus:

Will I ever be forgiven for the wrongs that I have done?
Seems time alone won’t set my conscience free.
I made some big mistakes in the years when I was young;
Please ease my guilt and say you’ll pardon me.


If only foresight let me see
What each wrong turn would do to me!
I might have made a diff’rent choice
By giving heed to reason’s voice.

It’s only now I comprehend 
That youth and caution can’t be friends. 
The acts are done; the pain is real.
It’s left these wounds that will not heal.

Chorus: 

Will I ever be forgiven for the wrongs that I have done?
Seems time alone won’t set my conscience free.
I made some big mistakes in the years when I was young;
Please ease my guilt and say you’ll pardon me.


If only life could be rehearsed,
But time, I know, can’t be reversed.
Though, if I could, on second take,
I’d never make the same mistakes.


Chorus: 

Will I ever be forgiven for the wrongs that I have done?
Seems time alone won’t set my conscience free.
I made some big mistakes in the years when I was young;
Please ease my guilt and say you’ll pardon me.
I’m begging you – just say you’ll pardon me!

A first place Musette poem for WDC Poem a Day contest

Why

I love
Because of God
above.

I pray
So He will guide
My way.

I live
Because He chose
To give.

A Musette Poem consists of 3 tercets (3 three-lined stanzas}. Syllable structure is 2-4-2. Rhyme scheme is a-b-a c-d-c e-f-e. The title should reflect the poem's content.

A Pendulum Poem inspired by a conversation with my youngest.

Get Away

If only life were like a flight,
I'd choose to travel light.
I'd check my bags,
No tags,
Then fly,
Let time go by.
Alas, I understand
There'd come a time I'd have to land.


A pendulum poem is eight lines with a syllable count of 86422468. The rhyme scheme is aabbccdd.

Grand Prize Winner in WDC March's Country Music Lover's Contest

Enough of the Blarney!

I listened to your Blarney
For years and years on end.
You made me think by now I’d be
A lot more than your friend.
But time keeps on a ‘going,
And still I have no ring!
So now I know your Irish talk
Just doesn’t mean a thing.

Chorus:

So, raise your glass
And drink your stout
Your luck, my boy,
Is running out!

You promised me you’d take me home,
To visit Galway Bay,
To sail the river Shannon,
And see Moher on the way.
But all we’ve done is frequent pubs
We find on Jersey Shore.
Though it might be enough for you,
A girl like me needs more!

Chorus:

So, raise your glass
And drink your stout
Your luck, my boy,
Is running out!

You used to charm me with your looks,
Your wearing of the green.
Your clumsy Irish dancing
Was the cutest thing I’d seen.
But now I’m done with Ireland –
St. Patty, take no slight.
For France, or Spain or Italy
Is where I’ve got my sight!

Chorus:

So, raise your glass
And drink your stout
Your luck, my boy,
Is running out!

I’m done with you;
I’m moving on!
Oh Irishman,
Your luck is gone!

A Winning Cinquain for WDC's April 1st prompt

Origins

Perhaps 

the first victim

of an April Fool's joke

was not the fox in Chaucer's tale

but Eve.