Congratulations sweetwife!

[WickedEve]

Congratulations sweetwife! And KatPurrs!

At Lotus Blooms, sweetwife won the SIZZLE, SQUEALS, AND POPCICLES Contest!

And here's the winning poem:

Penny Candy

tip toe dancing feet
on scorching sidewalks
avoid cracks
bearing ill will to mother

sagging pockets bulge
from found pennies
on grandpa's bedroom floor

in the five and dime
feet cooled on dark floors
rows of jars sparkle
with treats in her eyes

clutching a paper sack
I pick one by one
as magically
pennies become candy

 

[SA Storm]

Ditto

Wonderful poem Sweetwife.

SA

 

[Lauren Hynde]

It's a great poem and Sweetwife deserved to win. She's been writing great stuff and I bet we'll be congratulating her a lot in times to come.

And congratulations to another Lit poet, Katpurrs, for the 3rd place.

 

[KatPurrs]

Thanks Lauren

I was very pleased to come in 3rd. Thanks for the mention, Lauren. And a big congratulations to Sweetwife! It was a superb poem! I gave it my #1 vote!

Kat~

 

[karmadog]

loved it sweetwife!

Your poem brought back a nearly forgotten memory. Although when I visited my grandfather it was a four or five mile walk to the store and we were mostly dodging cowpies rather than cracks. When I got older we used to take the shortcut through the bull pasture. Much more exciting, that.

Terrific poem.

 

[Sweetwife]

Aw shucks

Eve, you're such a sweetheart! Thanks for the mention.

I've had Sweetwood telling me for a long time I had it in me, but I was just too timid to try. It was a true revelation to me that I actually could write something a little more meaningful than: He carted me off to bed one night . *Blushing

It has inspired me to write more.

Thank you to everyone else for their kind words. It means alot.

And Karma Dog: You better be careful where you romp. Those bulls would eat a pup like you for lunch.

Thanks again.

Sweetwife

 

[karmadog]

Thanks for the concern sweetestwife, but I'm no pup anymore. By human reckoning I'm something like 289 yrs old. I'm waaayyy to wily and treacherous for something as stupid as a bull to catch.

Pamplona here I come!!!

 

[WickedEve]

It's a great poem and Sweetwife deserved to win. She's been writing great stuff and I bet we'll be congratulating her a lot in times to come.

And congratulations to another Lit poet, Katpurrs, for the 3rd place.

Lauren! Thank you so much for mentioning kat's placing in the contest. I'm so forgetful!
Congrats, kat!

 

[Lauren Hynde]

My pleasure, Eve.

In fact, here's Kat's entry. Isn't it great?


(SH)erwood 5-5744

Funny, how that old-fashioned phone number is so
ingrained in my mind, but I can't remember
mine. It goes back forty-five years ago, to my
grandparents' house, when I was a girl,
rocking on their porch in my favorite chair
during those hot, Ohio nights,
eating orange Posicles (Granddad's favorite)
dripping sticky tracks up our forearms,
bantering with my cousins and my brother,
making wise cracks, smearing mosquitoes
into a darker orange goo.

I loved that big wooden rocker with the flat, wide
arms and the leather seat, a
dark green, I think, and the arms had those
square wooden plugs on the end.
And no matter how quiet I tried to be, or how
slowly I rocked, it always creaked.

The porch was surrounded by hydrangeas and red roses
whose fragrance mingled
with a cherry pie as it baked. I picked the
cherries that morning into a big metal bowl
Grandma gave me. It took a while to fill since
I ate more than I donated. She looked up
at me, as I was perched in the tree, and said,
"Kathy, honey, save some for the pie!"

Cinnamon air wafted through lace-curtained windows
on the porch. The same curtains
she gave me the next year, to don as a
"pretend" wedding gown. Wrapping them around
me, I stepped - stopped - stepped, up and
down the sidewalk, my aisle, with train
trailing behind, hoping someone would see. I'm
glad I didn't know that would be
my only time to shine as a bride.

I helped Grandma put the clothes through the wringer
that day, over and over again,
from tub to tub, using the washboard to scrub
the grass stains out of my pants.
She was fussy that way. Then we hung them out
on the line, using those stiff
clothespins, and a wedged push-up stick to
raise them up to sail in the shifting wind,
the clothes passing overhead left to right,
right to left, stick unfaltering.

It's hard to drive by and see that house with
strangers living there. Plastic toys
everywhere, not to mention the vinyl siding and
the missing cherry tree. They say
you can't go back and they're right. At least
I'll have the memories, forevermore,
brought on by the thought of that magic number,
(SH)erwood 5-5744.

 

[Rybka]

(SH)erwood 5-5744.

WOW! That took only third place? - Guess I will have to go and read #1 and #2 ! Katpurrs would get my "5" on this website.


Regards, Rybka

 

[Unmasked Poet]

Cheers for Sweetwife and Katpurrs. Even better Sweetwife will cross the barrier of E-zine publishing and appear in the next issue of Lotus Blooms Journal. When the new issue is up I will provide a link to her poem. In a related matter in the current issue Sweetwood’s poem "Paris without choice” is the second most read poem in Lotus history. More than 5000 reads! Kinda scary, 5000 people influenced by Sweetwood’s words. I wonder how long the house will be large enough for both of their egos.


U.P.