Some poems almost write themselves; the idea pops into your head, you start writing, and before you know it a perfect little masterpiece is smiling back at you.
And then there are poems like this one.
I wrote the first draft of this back in 2011. No sooner had I lifted pen from paper, when I decided to make some changes. And then a couple months later I made some more changes.
Then I thought about those changes…and made some more.
Do you see where this is going?
Well, I just finally completed what I believe to be the final draft – but of course, at this rate, that’s a rather tenuous statement. Many thanks to the Poet’s Garage, my online critique group, who helped me fix a few sticky lines. As with most advice, I took some of it to heart – and ignored the rest of it (no offense, folks!). Hopefully what I ignored won’t come back to bite me! For all of today’s Poetry Friday fun, be sure to visit Betsy at Teaching Young Writers!
was very firm;
she sternly warned her baby worm
to be aware of where one squirms
and stay away from dirty germs.
She said, “Where earth is warm and firm
is no place for a worm to squirm,
so do not go near sunny ferns
or you’ll get dirty, germy burns!”
But baby worm was unconcerned,
and one day from the dirt returned
with fern stains on her wormy shirt
and germs upon her dirty skirt.
Her eyes were sore, her head – it hurt.
She couldn’t even eat dessert!
So mommy worm told baby worm
it only takes one dirty germ
to make a tiny tummy turn.
But baby worm showed no concern
for mommy’s warning where to squirm;
next day, a naughty little worm
was back to squirming under fern.
I guess some worms will never learn.
– – © 2013, Matt Forrest Esenwine