Day 1.

Finished watching the Skillshare class, and thought I'd bash out a quick haiku to get me started:

Poetry, a way

To release thoughts and feelings

Free like birds to fly

Quite happy with it. I didn't feel I needed to do any editing. Start off easy and go from there. Trying to decide if I leave my poetry scattered through my sketch book (full of watercolour, sketches and inkings) or to get a dedicated book. Something else to muse on.

Day 2.

Didn't end up writing at the same time; I'd elected 10pm when everyone is upstairs in bed (this is MY time), but instead inspiration stuck mid-afternoon in the hammock, on what is an unseasonably chilly summers day in Melbourne.

THE HAMMOCK

Rocking gently

A sense of peace

Birds call as they wing by

A butterfly dances past

Leaves rustle distant and near

A breeze caresses my bare legs

Brushes my hair against my cheek

A dog barks, others reply

Cars grumble by

A bus growls and shudders at the corner

Power tools disturb the peace

A hammer joins the chorus

But the equilibrium soon returns

I started by scribbling notes about what I was feeling, hearing and seeing (a grounding exercise), which started to morph into a story as the sounds got louder and more annoying.

It was only when I was typing this that I realised every second line was starting with "A" for 3 rounds, that I ended up making that a part of the pattern.

Day 3.
Lying on the couch, counting the minutes until it is an appropriate time to go back to work for my after hours check on the two hospital patient dogs.

SOMNOLESENCE

Lids falling

Heavy eyes

Myoclonus reflex

Couch sinking

Blanket snuggling

Contagious oscitation

Bed yearning

Sleep calling

Spontaneous epiphora

Slow trudging

Tooth brushing

Somnolence sleep.

Surprisingly this didn’t help to keep me awake! Yawning (oscitation) more than before! I thought it was a fun idea to throw in medical terms every 3 lines. Now back to work I go!

Day 4.

Another time for hammock writing in the afternoon sun (and wind). I was looking for inspiration and spotted my dog watching me; my thoughts quickly spawned the following limerick.

There once was a dog called Alice,

Who thought she should live in a palace.

But the cats were too mean,

To treat her like a queen,

Perhaps they were a little bit jealous.

Thought process... what rhymes with Alice? Palace. Ok, what else? Jealous. Perfect. Fill in the remaining lines with my cats, and voila! A limerick we have. Then I couldn't even change a word! So no editing occurred.

Day 5.

Leaving it to the last minute again... oops. 11pm...

WEEKENDS

Weekends are made for sleep-ins,

However not everyone agrees.

The kids are up at the crack of dawn,

And husband with birds in the trees.

I should go to bed much earlier,

But I love the quiet of the night.

I only have myself to answer to,

And there is no-one to cause a fight.

Night are made for poetry,

Painting or other forms of art.

Although sometimes Minecraft wins,

For hunting zombies in the dark.

I often regret it in the morning,

When the others are up and about.

For they make me feel quite lazy,

And my husband often has a pout.

The benefit of the morning,

Is that the day is much longer instead.

So we can go for our walk to get coffee,

As opposed to just laying in bed.

The dog appreciates the walks,

Although the children much less so.

They'd much rather stay at home,

And catch up on a you-tube show.

However there are still so many,

Things and jobs to be done.

If I sleep all of the day away,

There will be much less time for fun.

So I guess this is good night,

I should trundle off to bed.

And rise a bit earlier next morning,

Instead of sleeping in like the dead.

Apparently inspiration is easy to come by at this time of night. I had the first line swirling around in my head for a bit, but then the rest just poured out of me with not much editing required. Better do what it says then, and go to bed!

Day 6.

My eldest was up watching me play Minecraft and was telling me to go to bed, when I told her I hadn't written my daily poetry yet. She was intrigued and asked if I could write one about her (she hasn't seen the others, I haven't shown them to anyone, just shared them on here). So I have a slightly more difficult task of writing poetry for someone, about them, on their request... We shall see how this goes.

THE ELDEST

Full of heart, and quiet grace,

My first born child, is pretty ace.

Kind and caring, a terrific friend,

My love for her, has no end.

Hazel eyes, and nut brown hair,

She loves to dance, and leap with flair.

Quick of wit, and deep of thought,

Are some things, that were not taught.

Loves to read, late in the night,

A hobby that, I will not fight.

Strong opinions, for what she likes,

Computer games, will trump hikes.

The teenage years, are looming large,

But we will meet them, at full charge.

Her hand in mine, makes me smile,

May it continue, for a very long while.

Growing more lovely, by the day,

I love her more, than I can say.

Lots of thesaurus checks and rhyming dictionary checks for this one, but I got there in the end. I'll have to show it to her tomorrow and see if I get the tick of approval.

Day 7.

And the hour edges towards 11pm again. Argh, poetry and then bed.

Once again it's late

The hour of witching draws near

To bed with you! Haste!

I think I need to start doing poetry at other times of the day, otherwise they will all be about sleep. At least this was a quick one.

Well, that is 7 days. I'll keep going. Try to keep this habit!

Day 8.

Shaking up the habit! My eldest came to thank me for her poem this morning (I'd emailed it to her, but being 12 she doesn't check her email very often), so I thought I'd better write one for the small one. Instead of leaving it until late at night, I tackled it at 3pm, lying on the couch - oh school holidays are grand!

THE SMALL ONE

Cheeky grin or wicked smile,

She could make you run a mile.

Everybody's favourite imp,

That is what she'd have you think.

A naked butt dance is a sign,

That everything is going fine.

A computer wizz, and artists eye,

A vocabulary to make you sigh.

Prefers to stay inside all day,

Plays more computer games that way.

Loves to swim and splash about

On swimming days, there's not a pout.

The cutest face with rosebud lips,

Perfect for her sweetest kiss.

Tiny hands or micro-paws,

The right size just to hold in yours.

Likes to creep downstairs at night,

For her daddy to hold her tight.

So proud of her, she is the best,

At being the youngest of this nest.

Such determination, she'll go far,

She is such a shining star.

We love her so, our tiny one,

She makes our life a lot of fun.

This time I wasn't using rhyming or thesaurus websites (as that would have involved getting off the couch!), but I did rearrange the order of some of the lines (the butt dance one I wrote later, but thought it fit in earlier). I look forward to sharing this with my monkey child.

Day 9.

I was trying to write a limerick about caramel slice (as you do), and wrote 3 less than impressive ones. Given caramel slice in my mind is linked to work (because I usually make it to take in to work), that led to a limerick about being a vet instead.

THE VET

The best thing about being a vet,

Is that I get to look after your pet.

It's not at all funny,

When you complain about money,

That makes me get really upset.

This led me to thinking about writing about my anxiety and depression, but I chickened out. Something to tackle another day I think.

Day 10.

Still chickening out (sorry). After spending the day with friends, at an Australia Day bbq, yet feeling somewhat disconnected, so spending a lot of time in the pool with the kids, I felt the need to write about swimming.

THE BLUE

The first chill,

Sharp inhale,

Steel your mind,

Must not quail.

Dive under,

Cares wash away,

Quiets thoughts,

Keeps wolves at bay.

Skim the bottom,

Touch the floor,

Breathing out,

Gliding more.

Break the surface,

Gasp the air,

No more worries,

No more cares.

Repeat the dive,

Once more anew,

Just keep going,

Through the blue.

This took a little bit of fiddling, especially with the first and last verse. My favourite is the third.

Day 10.

Went to bed early as have early start tomorrow. Almost broke my streak of poetry. Fortunately the weather inspired me.

SUMMER STORMS

Heavy drops

Gusty winds

Lightening crackles

Thunder rings

Gutters fill

And overflow

With no regard

For those below

Some respite

Then more rain

Lightening flashes

It begins again

Summer storms

Bring relief

From the heat

Albeit brief

A quick one with only a couple of fiddles. I do enjoy the ABAB style.

Amanda Trinder

Watercolour, poetry and whatever else!

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