Coon Zoo Lullaby

Coon Zoo Lullaby

Come men, if you dare
just jab a date
for a coon zoo tour
don’t be late.

We’ll see toad and tiger
in creature jail
and worms that are leaner
than slime of snail.

For additional fees
(don’t riot the price)
you can jut x-rays
— just be nice

when you query the gait
of the turtle hare.
Will you fill the pail
of his dinnerware?

Waste the lid of nips?
Ha, the day has fled.
Pin the cog of hex
and it’s off to bed.

Your sad looks — Why?
For they rang the bell.
You about to cry?
That’s the matin’s knell

and the painted orb
is the eve of moon
close your eyes, sweet babe
for the day is done.

© 2011 by Violet Nesdoly

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The challenge, from my writing group challenge poser, was to use the following 33 words to write a piece (prose or poetry) 350-words or less:

coon, tour, lid,  painted, price, query,  cog,  eve, jail, jab, why, be,  hex,  ha, x-rays,  dare,  zoo, looks, slime,  fees, men, waste, date, leaner, nips, will, pin, worms, riot, tiger, jut, gait, rang

“Coon Zoo Lullaby” is my nonsense attempt. (Maybe you’d like to give it a try.) I’m afraid the coon in the photo is looking a little freaked out that his name is connected with such a thing. Sorry little buddy!

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, which is hosted today at Tabatha Yeatts: The Opposite of Indifference.

Coyote

Coyote

You cross our path
trotting and jaunty
tawny and hearty
once in tall grass
you stop, look back at us
not frightened or shy
but curiously cool

I can only imagine
the drama you bring
to the marshes of mallards
and meadows
of dashing brown bunnies
in this once-safe, peaceful
paradise park

© 2012 by V. Nesdoly

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I write this poem in response to Adele Kenny’s “Wildlife” prompt for April 24th. (And Happy 2nd Birthday today, to her blog: The Music In It).

Hand Candy

Hand Candy

Smooth ribbed slabs
red, yellow, blue
peel apart
don’t mix red
yellow, blue

Sniff clay smell
squeeze, press, roll
make a ball
watch what you
know to do

Plunge in thumb
pinch up, up
round, around
fingertips
grow a pot

Roll through palms
dangle log
sausage, rope
coil in mat
plate, vase, cup

Chew with hands
soft like gum
twist off half
mold, press, stretch
form a dish

Fingernails
bite off bits
jawbreakers,
M&Ms
chocolate chips

Yellow, blue
add them too
squish, press, knead
lump is veined
purple, green

Sniff the old
smell of brown
beg for new
slabs of red
yellow, blue

- Violet Nesdoly

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Who of us didn’t play with Plasticine as kids? This poem is about my memories of Plasticine when I was first introduced to it as a little girl in a one-room country school in Saskatchewan. Busying us with Plasticine was a great way for teacher to keep the little kids occupied while doing lessons with the big kids.

Canadian writer and illustrator Barbara Reid uses Plasticine as her illustrative medium.

• Check out the wonderful portfolio of plasticine illustrations on Reid’s website.

• Besides illustrating books of stories and rhymes with Plasticine art, Reid has also written a Plasticine how-to book: Fun with Modelling Clay. Here’s an excerpt. A list of all of Barbara Reid’s books Is HERE.

• Find out more about Plasticine on the “About Plasticine” page of her website.

This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Diane Mayr at Random Noodling.

This post is also submitted to Everyday Poems where the April theme is “Candy.”

Spring

Spring

Cream-tinted
blossom filigree
a wedding
a party
line dancing with the breeze, I’m
caught under spring’s veil.

- Violet Nesdoly

V is for …

V is for …

Wide mouth perpetually agape
I lie here in the dark and wait
for drawer to open
your warm fingers, thumb
to take me up, align my four incisors
with the soft and toothsome zinc
then squeeze…

Oh ecstasy! The sweet surrender
of malleable metal to my mouth
More – I want more
fangs famished to have at the staples
of every paper in your drawer!

© 2010 by Violet Nesdoly

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I noticed that on a previous Poetry Friday, Heidi Mordhorst (my juicy little universe) told us she was collecting poems in the voices of objects. “V is for… ” is my little shout-out to her. Read her talking object poem “Little Bricks, Little Bricks, Let Me Come In” and Laura Purdie Salas’s “Vacation Time” HERE.

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday which is hosted this week by Anastasia Suen at Booktalking.

Cherry blossom time

Cherry trees in bloom - Vancouver, B.C. Canada

Cherry Blossom Time

Pink spring debutantes
ball gown ruffles, froth and lace
cherry trees in bloom

Strawberry milkshakes
line Vancouver avenues
cotton candy hair

Blush cherry petals
one hundred trillion hankies
beckoning the bees

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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It’s cherry blossom time in Vancouver. The photo above was one I took last year of a street near where my son lives. Every year Vancouver salutes its thousands of blossoming cherry trees with the Cherry Blossom Festival. A haiku contest is part of that festival.  Want to join? Submit a maximum of two haiku here.

As you can see, I’m practising.

Just Before Cock-crow

"The Denial of St. Peter" Jean-Louis Forain

You are his friend from Galilee
I do not, do not know the man
I’m not his friend and not his clan
he really is stranger to me.

You’re dreaming up a fantasy
you little wench with evil plan.
You were with him from Galilee.
On oath, I do not know the man!

Cease and desist your lying spree.
Why do you paint me partisan?
I told you true when we began
swear by each herring in the sea…
You sound like him from Galilee!

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly
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This rondel paints a few moments from the story of Passion Week. The account of Peter denying that he even knew Christ, let alone had spent time with Him (Mark 14:66-72) is a cautionary tale to me. I wonder, how would I have reacted in the same circumstance? Do I ever deny Jesus in situations that are far less threatening?

April Special

 (A choose your own ending poem)

Maitre d’ offers a menu of rain
for starters a sprinkle, a spitting, a mist
my glasses are blurry, my hair is damp-kissed
but hors d’oeuvre about which I will not complain.

Wind and cloud waitresses proffer the main
with all-day-long drizzle, deluge and flood
the road is all puddles, the garden all mud
this unending water’s becoming a pain.

Time for dessert course, by now I disdain
the precipitation. Soaking, please stop!
Ah, here comes the sun, through a drip and a drop
a garnish of rainbow, a plip and a plop
just the right mix so that May blooms will pop
please, shower no more till it’s April again.

OR

rescuing me from becoming insane.

OR

bringing an end to this drippy refrain.

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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This is my first poem of my personal National Poetry Month challenge. My goal is to write 21 new poems this month. I will not inflict them all on you, I promise. But I thought I would put up number one just to prove that I have actually made a start.

This poem was inspired by the April Rain prompt at Adele Kenny’s The Music In It blog, where she has posted a prompt and a linked poem for each day in April.