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Lemon Drop Pie

Tag Archives: poetry

Fries and Family for Writer’s Workshop

26 Wednesday Jan 2011

Posted by Ginny Marie in family, writing

≈ 27 Comments

Tags

food, poetry

I’m writing two separate pieces in one post today for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. First, a poem inspired by the following prompt: Write a love poem to a favorite food. The second piece is about this prompt: Social media is an amazing way to reunite with old friends. Describe a good or not-so-good experience you’ve had with it.

Ode to French Fries

Oh, french fries, you’re glorious,
even though you’re calorious,
You simply are my favorite food.

Share you, I’ll never
Even though it will ever
Be said that I’m rude.

No ketchup, please,
I’d rather have cheese,
Or just sprinkle you with plenty of salt.

Although I just love your taste,
You really add to my waist,
Our love affair certainly must halt!

Skins on or nak-ed,
Fried, but not bak-ed,
Thick or thin, still I adore you.

After much consideration,
I’ll try moderation.
My love for you remains true!

If you wrote a poem to your favorite food, what food would you choose?

Mama's Losin' It

Facebooking My Way to Family

Basically, they thought I stole their uncle away from them. They were six and nine, and had had a doting uncle up to this point. Then suddenly, their uncle wasn’t as accessible any more. He became busy on the weekends, and visited less spontaneously. And when he did see them, he brought me along. They no longer had their fun-loving, rough-housing uncle to themselves. Instead, he was always holding hands and confiding in someone else: me.

I was a teacher, and I always got along with kids. I thought I would win them over instantly. However, it didn’t turn out that way. We got along, but our relationship was never “easy.” I disciplined them too much, unable to drop my teacher ways over the weekend. They resented me sometimes for just being there.

Their uncle and I married, and suddenly, I was their aunt. I don’t think they have ever called me “aunt”. I was just as bad; in the beginning, I referred to them as “my husband’s niece and nephew,” not “my niece and nephew.”

Along the way, they became teens. For some unrelated reason, I joined facebook. They friended me. We started chatting online. They commented on my statuses and I wrote on their walls. The relationships we had online seemed to be smoother and more natural than the relationships we had in person.

In my mind and in my heart, they became my niece and nephew. Just as I hope that in their hearts, they think of me as Aunt Ginny, and know that I’ll be there whenever they need me.

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Sick Day

08 Thursday Oct 2009

Posted by Ginny Marie in book nook

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

children's lit, Emmy, Lily, poetry

Bear Feels SickLily is sick, so this is her sick day, not mine. She is sitting on the couch, sneezing and sniffling and coughing, poor thing. I think she’ll stay home from preschool today, and we’ll do things like snuggle and read Bear Feels Sick by Karma Wilson and drink lots of juice. And maybe watch a movie. Emmy, who feels perfectly well, is already pestering her sister unmercifully, so I can see it will also be a day of refereeing.

Whenever one of my children is sick, I think of this poem by A. A. Milne, from Now We Are Six:

Christopher Robin
Had wheezles
And sneezles,
They bundled him
Into
His bed.
They gave him what goes
With a cold in the nose,
And some more for a cold
In the head.
They wondered
If wheezles
Could turn
Into measles,
If sneezles
Would turn
Into mumps;
They examined his chest
For a rash,
And the rest
Of his body for swellings and lumps.
They sent for some doctors
In sneezles
And wheezles
To tell them what ought
To be done.

All sorts and conditions
of famous physicians
Came hurrying around
At a run.
They all made a note
Of the state of his throat
They asked if he suffered from thirst;
They asked if the sneezles
Came after the wheezles,
Or if the first sneezle
Came first.
They said, “If you teazle
A sneezle
Or wheezle,
A measle
May easily grow.
But humour or pleazle
The wheezle
Or sneezle,
The measle
Will certainly go.”
They expounded the reazles
For sneezles
And wheezles,
The manner of measles
When new.
They said, “If he freezles
In draughts and in breezles,
Then PHTHEEZLES
May even ensue.”

Christopher Robin
Got up in the morning,
The sneezles had vanished away.
And the look in his eye
Seemed to say to the sky,
“Now, how to amuse them today?”

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