Continuing with ideas from the book. This time, More Animals
I have a giveaway of a new poetry book here. Be sure to enter!
Tabatha Yeatts has created a link to poems teachers and librarians can print for poetry month, titled "Poetry in The Halls". I'm grateful to be one of the poets!
I have a giveaway of a new poetry book here. Be sure to enter!
Tabatha Yeatts has created a link to poems teachers and librarians can print for poetry month, titled "Poetry in The Halls". I'm grateful to be one of the poets!
Jama Rattigan has a post HERE with many poets' goals for April.
The Progressive Poem schedule can be found on the right!
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| not "the" rooster, but one I met long ago on a trip with students |
The Rooster
My grandparents lived on a picture book farm.
On it sat a large house, a barn, smaller sheds for storage,
and one long, low building—for the chickens.
Behind it was the outhouse, the outside bathroom.
Kept spotless by my grandmother, it even had wallpaper!
My problem lay in its location,
out of the house yard,
through a gate,
across the chicken yard.
If only the rooster would keep busy with the ladies!
I would watch and watch
‘till he worried a worm instead of me,
and race through the chicken yard to the outhouse,
slam the door and latch it.
Whew!
After finishing what I went there for—
I prepared for the race back.
I peeped through a crack,
searched all around,
saw only some hens scratching for a bite.
I opened that creaky door preparing for flight,
the rooster marched around the corner,
like a drum major in a band.
I jumped back into the outhouse
and slammed the door
again.
I waited and looked.
I looked and waited.
So did the rooster.
Finally, my grandmother missed me.
She came to the rescue, rushing at the rooster.
“Shoo, shoo,” she shouted. He listened to her.
I hugged my grandmother, grabbed onto her hand,
and walked back to the house with her.
But all the time, I watched for that rooster.
Linda Baie ©
Had I not been terrified of a rooster a few times in my life, I might find this poem more humorous. I love how this bit here shows the distance:
ReplyDeleteout of the house yard,
through a gate,
across the chicken yard.
Thanks, Cheriee. I imagine there are several of us who have had this experience.
DeleteA wallpapered outhouse! Sounds like a harrowing experience -- another male trying to intimidate (apparently not a species specific behavior).
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure how she did all that she did, Jama, but my grandmother was a spotless housekeeper, even in the outhouse! Ha! Love your connection to the male species!
DeleteHilarious scene! Grandma to the rescue!
ReplyDeleteI was always grateful! Thanks, Margaret!
DeleteWhat a fun poem and wonderful bond between you and your grandmother. I can picture this scene, it would be delightful to illustrate!
ReplyDeleteIt would be fun to collaborate, Michelle. I've often wondered if this would be a picture book! Thanks!
DeleteLove this narrative poem with the power of your grandmother ‘s love
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jane. Yes, saving me more than once!
DeleteGrandmas are like superheroes: always arriving just in time. I felt like I was right there with you when your grandma came to save the day. Delightful.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Cathy, she saved the day many a time!
DeleteThat poem has a familiar ring to it. For the years we had hens and a rooster, we kids hat triangular bite marks on our arms. Still remember my brother saving our little sister from the rooster chasing her. Didn’t know what to do with the rooster when he caught him. Could t let him go for fear what would happen! Your poem brings back so many memories!
ReplyDeleteOh my, they can be frightening. I wonder how many have had those encounters! Thanks, Donna!
Delete