And it's a poem!

Here's the completed poem, along with an illustration.  For the fourth time, thirty writers have worked together to make a Progressive Poem for National Poetry Month.  Click over to read Donna's line, or look below to see the whole text. 

Thanks to all the participants (listed below).  It's been fun!  Same time next year?


April

1 Laura at Writing the World for Kids

2 Joy at Joy Acey

3 Doraine at Dori Reads

4 Diane at Random Noodling

5 Penny at A Penny and Her Jots

6 Carol at Beyond LiteracyLink

7 Liz at Elizabeth Steinglass

8 Janet F. at Live Your Poem

9 Margaret at Reflections on the Teche

10 Pat at Writer on a Horse

11 Buffy at Buffy's Blog

12 Michelle at Today's Little Ditty

13 Linda at TeacherDance

14 Jone at Deo Writer

15 Matt at Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme

16 Violet at Violet Nesdoly

17 Kim at Flukeprints

18 Irene at Live Your Poem

19 Charles at Poetry Time

20 Ruth at There is No Such Thing as a Godforsaken Town

21 Jan at Bookseedstudio

22 Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge

23 Ramona at Pleasures from the Page

24 Amy at The Poem Farm

25 Mark at Jackett Writes

26 Renee at No Water River

27 Mary Lee at Poetrepository

28 Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe

29 Sheila at Sheila Renfro

30 Donna at Mainely Write



Thoughts Take Flight

A squall of hawk wings stirs the sky.
A hummingbird holds and then hies.
     “If I could fly, I’d choose to be
      Sailing through a forest of poet-trees.”
A cast of crabs engraves the sand
Delighting a child’s outstretched hand.
     "If I could breathe under the sea,
      I’d dive, I’d dip, I’d dance with glee."
A clump of crocuses craves the sun.
Kites soar while joyful dogs run.
     "I sing to spring, to budding green,
     to all of life – seen and unseen."
Wee whispers drift from cloud to ear
and finally reach one divining seer
who looks up from her perch and beams —
     "West Wind is dreaming May, it seems."
Golden wings open and gleam
as I greet the prancing team.
     "Gliding aside with lyrical speed,
     I'd ride Pegasus to Ganymede."
To a pied pocket, the zephyr returns.
Blowing soft words the seer discerns
     "from earthbound voyage to dreamy night,
     The time is now.  I give you flight!"
Yet I fear I am no kite or bird –
I lift!  The world below me blurred
by tears of joy.  I spiral high,
     "I hum, I dive, I dip, I hive!"
     "Behold, Spring is but a dance away!"
I grasp my pen, then capture this day.