Word Garden Word List--Game Six

 

Hello my little spring chickens, and welcome to another Word Garden Word List poetry prompt! If you know me, you know that I have been a seamhead since I was 6 years old, and with this week being the opening of a new baseball season, I have chosen an excellent book as our source this time: Mark Frost's Game Six.

The Mick. He had retired by the time of game six.

Game Six is an immensely entertaining and readable account of game six of the classic 1975 World Series. It delves into the personalities of the players, what made game six so memorable, and is packed with interesting information I didn't know before. 

Some of you don't care about the sportsing!

I know that not all of you care about baseball, but it doesn't matter! Just use 3 or more of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of your own. Then simply link up, visit others, and then sit back in the sun with a dog and a Coke and enjoy yourself! This prompt remains active through next Saturday. 

And now, your List:

children

curiously

doggone

fabled

few

gimpy

job

kicked

leather

master

plant

poster

promise

rain

school

scrap

souls

spotlight

story

tradition

April Begins In A Graveyard

 

April begins in a graveyard

the stasis of winter broken.

Bold dandelion hold my heart

and everything said and unspoken.

I have done this, and that,

often for the last time.

I go gray as the sun moves over me

arranging my bones in rhyme.

Let the lawn grow long and wild, 

the caretaker drunk on his stool.

The old oaks must scoff at upstart April

and at me, a philosophizing fool.

April begins in a graveyard

with its bees more proud than the dead.

Let me doze on a bench in the half-shade

with my hand on the book still unread.

________

For What's Going On?--"April"

Music: Simon & Garfunkel The Dangling Conversation

Equinox

I'm as plain and brown as mud in March.
I'm a stone in a river; I don't move much. 
I'm the dull-bound book with the faded cover,
But my pages will call you to next and another.

See the yard all strewn with last year's leaves--
See the unassuming chair, the sparrow, and...me
Dreaming at mid-day-- as roots are, too,
Seeming still-- but restless and drawn to do

Our turning and rising as the season commands
with sure sense of continuance--like ampersands.
_____

For Fireblossom Friday : Poetic imagery. I'm hosting at Toads. Come by and join us!