Saturday, April 18, 2015

Progressive Poem 2015 and Poetry book giveaway










Poetry month continues with a craft book on poetry and Irene Latham's Dear Wandering Wildebeest.
By leaving a comment you will be entered for a chance to win of these books.


One of the things I look forward to each year is participating in the Progressive Poem Hosted by Irene Latham’s . It's our way of celebrating National Poetry Month. The poem is a group venture in the month of April, with each poet adding a new line and sending it on its journey.


This years poem is taking us to the sea.  Mermaids and mermen, or fisherman oh my!
I had to look up what a pirogue is- a dugout canoe.
Here's what we have so far on day 18.




She lives without a net, walking along the alluvium of the delta.
Shoes swing over her shoulder, on her bare feet stick jeweled flecks of dark mica.


Hands faster than fish swing at the ends of bare brown arms. Her hair flows,
snows in wild wind as she digs in the indigo varnished handbag,


pulls out her grandmother’s oval cuffed bracelet,
strokes the turquoise stones, and steps through the curved doorway.


Tripping on her tail she slips hair first down the slide… splash!
She glides past glossy water hyacinth to shimmer with a school of shad,


listens to the ibises roosting in the trees of the cypress swamp–
an echo of Grandmother’s words, still fresh in her windswept memory.


Born from the oyster, expect the pearl.
Reach for the rainbow reflection on the smallest dewdrop.


The surface glistens, a shadow slips above her head, a paddle dips–
she reaches, seizes. She’s electric energy and turquoise eyes.


Lifted high, she gulps strange air – stares clearly into
Green pirogue, crawfish trap, startled fisherman


with turquoise eyes, twins of her own, riveted on her wrist–
She's swifter than a dolphin, slipping away, leaving him only a handful of


Up to you Linda, what's in his hand?


1 Jone at Check it Out
5 Charles at Poetry Time Blog
7 Catherine at Catherine Johnson
8 Irene at Live Your Poem
9 Mary Lee at Poetrepository
10 Michelle at Today's Little Ditty
11 Kim at Flukeprints
12 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche
13 Doraine at DoriReads
14 Renee at No Water River
17 Buffy at Buffy's Blog
18 Sheila at Sheila Renfro
19 Linda at Teacher Dance
21 Tara at A Teaching Life
23 Tamera at The Writer's Whimsy
26 Brian at Walk the Walk
27 Jan at Bookseedstudio
28 Amy at The Poem Farm
29 Donna at Mainely Write
30 Matt at Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme

9 comments:

Ruth said...

Nice! I wonder what she left him?

LInda Baie said...

Wow, Sheila, I'll be thinking all day about this. Why would she want to flee? You've brought many questions to the poem for me. It's another turn! Nicely done!

Ramona said...

Every day a new revelation! Our gal is on quite a journey.

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater said...

Oh, who are they...? I feel a history here...or don't I? There is something really magical and fascinating about this game we're playing here. What is in his hand????

Buffy Silverman said...

Oh, a handful of what??? Can't wait to find out tomorrow!

Donna Smith said...

Oh, I'm not surprised that she slipped away so fast! But she must have left something very important behind...maybe?
This is a great cliffhanger piece!

Irene Latham said...

Of course she is slipping away! Ha! Thank you, Sheila! xo

Penny Parker Klostermann said...

Very nice line, Sheila! I can't wait to see what Linda adds. This year's poem has been a delight.

Robyn Hood Black said...

I'm swimming around playing catch-up today...

Ooooh - so intriguing, Sheila! Great. And because I'm behind, I don't have to delay gratification. Off to Linda's to see what's next...