At first I was only permitted
to go driving on the
neat streets of Rhyme.
When I got my poetic license,
I headed out into
the wider world of verse.
I made a brief stop in Haiku,
had a few laughs in Limerick,
sang the praises of Ode.
Then I ventured into Fiction—
it was a bit of a stretch to get there—
and I let myself get carried away:
I crossed over the line
into Non-Fiction, and that
was the end of my poetic license.
Daughter number three will be getting her learner’s permit soon, and then we begin 65 hours of behind-the-wheel experience before she can test for her actual driver’s license. It seems like an appropriate time to post this poem. Peace to your ♥!
In my last post, I mentioned that I have a collection of poems about Buddy, my family’s cat. About a dozen of them were written in the space of three days a few weeks ago. I can never predict when the muse will strike full-force like that, but when it does, poetry consumes my thoughts for the duration. The following warning applies:
Intoxicated by Poetry
I'm not one to drink and drive,
But I confess I think and drive.
And furthermore, there have been times
When half my brain’s been full of rhymes.
I watch for traffic, lights, and signs
While marshaling words into lines.
Thus far I’ve managed to survive
With only half a mind to drive.
And though I know the driver’s seat
Is no place for poetic feet,
It’s easier to abstain from drinking
Than to refrain from adverse thinking.
So if you see me driving by,
Steer clear—I may be DUI*.
*driving under the influence
© Stephanie Malley
Peace to your ♥ (especially if you see me driving by)!
I used to enjoy reading murder mysteries–Diane Mott Davidson’s Goldy Schulz catering series, The Cat Who… books by Lilian Braun Jackson, Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh–but gradually became disenchanted. There’s enough real-life violence that I can do without the virtual kind. Happily for me, some writers focus on the mystery without the bodies and blood. My two favorites are Nancy Atherton’s Aunt Dimity books and Alexander McCall Smith’s The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series (located in the library under ‘M’ not ‘S’).
McCall Smith sets his series in Botswana and artfully (and with heart) captures a culture moving away from traditional values. Mma Ramotswe, the traditionally-built (i.e., not the skinny-model type) and traditionally-minded owner of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, regularly muses about life and living it in a way that resonates with my soul. A sample:
Sometimes it was important simply to get out. It did not matter where you went, as long as you got out of the office, or the kitchen, or any other place where duty required you to be, and went to some place that you did not have to be.” from The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon by Alexander McCall Smith
Amen to that! The library is one of my top go-to places, doubly delicious in that, once I come home with more books than I planned on, I can further escape while reading them. I hope you have some good getaway places, too. Peace to your ♥ !
The Kids are Driving Me Crazy
get a way
to get away
for a getaway.
I need a getaway car.
© Stephanie Malley
NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 20 - Write a poem that involves rebellion in some way.