Expressing yourself through writing poetry is a wonderful way to be happy! And you don’t have to be E.B. Browning, just write what you feel!
My 4th grade son had a unit on writing poetry. one assignment was where we each write down 3 random nouns and 3 random adjectives. Then we trade and each have to write a poem with all those words. It was SO fun! Here is the poem i wrote from the words he gave me. I capitalize the words i was given:
So ROUND and SMELLY!
Where did you come from?
With your EXTREME girth
You shake the earth.
And you play the PIANO, too!
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
- poem by W.H. Auden
Kendra still sleeps with her pink bunny. I still miss you.
For me, the last words I said to him were, “call me as soon as you get home.” The last time I saw him alive was in my rear view mirror as I drove away. He looked sad, and I … almost … turned the car around. But, I was running late for work. “He’ll be fine,” I thought. “I can’t afford to lose any more time…”
They call us “survivors” and that’s a good word, right?
It sure beats the other extreme and most who survive some calamity
are no doubt grateful to be one.
We are in a special class of survivors.
We are known as “suicide survivors” but no matter how you slice it,
suicide is an ugly, repulsive word.
We are not in a category that brings relief.
We are in a class of people who survive unbearable,
painful loss ~ one day at a time. One day at a time.
Perhaps you are one of us; we are millions strong.
We are parents, siblings, friends, relatives, co-workers, and school chums.
The list is endless.
Our loved one touched so many lives, just like yours.
Why are we millions strong? Because every fifteen + minutes
in the USA alone, someone reaches the point of no return
and ends his life.
View original post 129 more words
How do I love thee?
– Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight