How to Eat a Poem
Don’t be polite.
Bite in.
Pick it up with your fingers and lick the
juice that may run down your chin.
It is ready and ripe now, wherever you are.
You do not need a knife or a fork or a spoon
or plate or napkin or
tablecloth.
For there is no core
or stem
or rind
or pit
or seed
or skin
to throw away.
– Eve Merriam (1916-1992), poet, playwright,
director, and lecturer
The Dance of Spring
Spring runs in like a cheetah through a field
The flowers jump in with all the beauty they yieldBees hum their song with voices great and clearAnd the clouds start to cry with thousands of tearsThen when it’s all over, spring runs awayThen the next visitor, summer, comes to stayAnd now the hot sun has fully awokenAnd the final words of spring have finally been spokenBut spring leaves a reminder to remember the daysOf when he was here in April, June, and MayFor the days spring has lived have not yet diedBecause the bees still sing and the clouds still cry.
– Martin, (7th grade)Submission in home-schoolers creative writing contest
Happy Holidays!
Don’t forget my:
PROM ON A BUDGET CONTEST
Send picture(s) of prom-goer with a list of expenses to: Farm and Dairy, Box 38, Salem, OH 44460 Attention: Family Editor. Top five entries staying closest to $50 will win a Farm and Dairy Cookbook with first, second and third prizes receiving a Farm and Dairy T-shirt, cap, and mug, respectively, in addition. Entrees must be received by May 15, 2007.
