Here, There be a Writer

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Perfect Reading Spot - A Revision Poem

Not feeling well today, so it's late in coming. From today's NaPoWriMo prompt which I rather fancy for its simplicity. It works well when I can only think in short bursts today.


And now for our prompt! Yesterday’s was a doozy, so today’s is much more laid-back (and optional, as always). It comes to us from Dr. Cynthia A. Cochran of Illinois College:
Here is a great prompt for anyone who likes to write descriptive prose but shudders at writing poetry–and it really works:

Describe in great detail your favorite room, place, meal, day, or person. You can do this in paragraph form.

Now cut unnecessary words like articles and determiners (a, the, that) and anything that isn’t really necessary for content; leave mainly nouns, verbs, a few adjectives.

Cut the lines where you see fit and, VOILA! A poem!

My little paragraph: when I read, I will sit in me chair in my study. Also, when I read I will sit upon my porch in the early hours of the morning. When the birds are just waking up. Maybe just barely sunlight cresting over the hills. Or it is when I am wrapped in a warm blanket, with a fresh cup of coffee. Either way I am in bliss. The book takes me away. The breeze is blowing, tousling my hair andf my hands sometimes get cold as I am turning the pages. But, the morning light is quite alright. Why am I rhyming now? The cup is steaming as I read and sometimes a neighbourhood cat passes by. The chair is not so comfortable, all hard and plastic. But it is my little space of the morning.

Which became this:

Perfect Reading Spot

Reading,
    in my armchair
    warm inside a blanket
Reading,
    upon porches
    within early mornings
    when the birds are just
    waking up.

I choose--

Maybe,
    just barely light
   and
   sun is cresting over the hills.
   Breezes tousling my hair
   and bare hands
   going numb with each page turn.

But,
   I have fresh coffee,
   steaming,
   while I turn the pages.
   And the morning is
   quite alright.

Maybe,m
   George passes by--
   a neighbourhood cat
   vying for some attention.

Maybe,
   the chairs are hard,
   plastic,
   cold and damp,
   but it is my little corner
   of the morning.

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