Exploring Poetry by Sandi Somers

 

First Limerick 

During my second year of teaching, I introduced limericks to my Grade Five class. We studied the rhythm and rhyme scheme. Then before asking each student to try writing one, we composed one together. Chuckles and laughter filled the classroom, and my chest filled with pride for my creative students. I’ve never forgotten it.

 

There was an old car without tires,

Who always ran over those liars.

When the liars got caught,

The car said, “O gosh!

I’ll never be sold to the buyers.” 

                            

There are times I’m inspired by poetry and spin off a well-known (to me) poem. To give a background to the poem below, my InScribe local writers’ group was practising alliteration, onomatopoeia, rhythm, and repetition, using as our model Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman” (read it here). One morning, with a sudden inspiration, I began to write my own spin off. I composed half of it in a few minutes, and the rest needed to be thought out carefully day by day. I submitted it to FellowScript, and it was published. You may have read it there. 

The Deadline

 (Apologies to Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman”)

 

The moon was a missile of motion

Sailing through starlit skies

And the shaft of light through the window

Shone as I typed through my tears

 

My mind lay bare in the moonlight—       

          Blank and bare in the moonlight

And the blood of my veins in the moonlight

Throbbed at my sweated brow

 

There was pressure at every keystroke

And cross-offs on every dark line

For I couldn’t see through my tears

The direction I should take.

 

Then softly a whisper I listened

And then I heard the Lord say

Look to me for insight

          Watch for me for insight

I’ll inspire you ‘fore midnight

And nothing can bar your way.

 

I whispered a prayer of great thanks

As I swirled words and phrases

T’was only God who had done it

Had given me words that I needed

 

My mind shone with brilliance

My thoughts flew like flickers

And this writer kept writing—

          Writing—writing

I kept writing to the dreaded deadline.

 

And now ere the stroke of midnight

Soft ere the stroke of midnight

The tip of my finger touched “Send”

The submission at last t’was complete.

 

And there you have it. Poetry brings images and vividness to life that sometimes can’t be expressed in prose. Poetry elevates our language. I might say that I was inspired to write a poem, but the psalmist began with these wonderful words: 

 

My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king;

my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer. 

Psalm 45:1 (NIV)

 

Sandi Somers writes mostly non-fiction, but has explored fiction, particularly historical and Biblical fiction. Most of her poetry learning has come from poets in her InScribe local writers’ group. 

Image by Tea time reading poetry