Poetry Isn't Always So Serious

I was looking through my files today and I realized: I've written a lot of poetry! Much of that is serious stuff - about God, or about life. But there's a lot of lighter fare too; simple, fun poems that make me smile when I read them. The serious poems take me ages to write, and they don't come every day. Often, they don't turn out well. But for some reason, I can almost always write the fun stuff.

For instance, earlier this year, I went to a coffee shop for the sole purpose of writing serious poetry. As I sat there thinking, I decided a warm-up poem might be in order. Now, I didn't end up writing anything profound that evening, but the warm-up poem turned out pretty fun! Here it is:

Has Anyone Seen a Muse?

It took me 15 minutes to drive here.

I chose a table that doesn’t wobble;

bought a flatbread and chai.

I spent ten dollars and change –

plus the gas –

and I’m in jeans instead of pajamas.

Now, Brain, I command you:

Write something!

It better be good…

On a related note, here's a super-short bit of fluff* that I wrote way back in my college days:

The Writing Process Gone Bad

As I take up my pen

My thought leaves again!

I'm trying to get into the habit of writing poetry more often, so when Mom and I went to Barnes and Noble yesterday, I decided to write something fun. My sister-in-law had been commenting about the fall colors, and Mom made a remark about the number of evergreens in the region, so naturally I decided to write about the trees. (I do love trees...)

Fall Colors

There are trees that turn gold and trees that turn red

And trees that turn orange seem especially bold

Compared to the trees that turn brown and go limp -

Not possessing the evergreens' stiff upper lip

That bristles with needles instead of soft leaves -

The most stubborn trees that refuse to be wheedled

Into changing their hue just because of the frost,

And that's why at Christmas they're eagerly sought,

While all through the fall we ignore their persistence,

Beside the fierce beauty of the blazing deciduous.

*I mean, the title is almost as long as the poem!