Amateur Poets Take World By Verse

On a silly whim tonight, my husband and I wrote poetry.

Two things about this: I'm teaching poetry in a couple of college classes, so this activity falls under the category of "research".  Also, we've been at the bottle of Luccio Moscato.

Enjoy...and don't be surprised if you find us in next month's issue of some highfalutin' poetry journal.

We started simple: HAIKU, topic: WINE

Brent's:

Floating, up, down, fly.
I wonder if butterflies
like red, white, or dry.

Heather's:

Pale bubbling gold.
Apple sweet but not peachy.
Another glass, please?

Then, it was onto QUATRAINS, topic: NATURE

Brent's:

Oh, no-tail squirrel!
I see how you dance,
how you twirl.
Do you think this is France?

***We laughed heartily at this one***

Heather's:

Oh, how I love September!
Its vibrant sun and clear blue sky,
I can't help but remember.
I wear a jacket with a content sigh.

Finally, the most difficult - SONNET, topic: CHILDREN

Brent's:

Pleading, needing, I cry.
Rested, contented, I sigh.
Crawling, climbing, I reach,
Looking, listening, you teach.
How you so easily forget
we were so perfectly met.
I run, I jump, I play,
I walk, I talk, I say.
Things that hurt
cover me like dirt
that makes me wonder why
you decided to conceive this guy.
I reach out to say I'm sorry
and you hug, squeeze, and love me.

Heather's:

What can prepare you
for the birth of a baby?
Despite all the classes,
at best, you're a "maybe".
Nobody makes it clear
that it's going to hurt a lot
and that your wildest fear
is becoming the parent you're not.
Don't think you'll revert
back to your nights of sleep.
Every sigh keeps you alert,
you'll hear every single peep.
Yet, time passes, and we forget the pain.
and again we choose not to abstain.

YEEEEEEEAH!