Ode to Blue Jeans|NaPoWriMo-Day 11

I always wanted blue jeans,
but never could find ones
to fit when I was very young.
They were either way too loose,
or they were way too long.

When I finally grew some more,
I finally found some that fit,
and was so excited,
I bought three pairs,
a complete entire set!

I finally was a a real girl,
I could join in with the crowd,
I no longer looked old-fashioned,
I no longer looked the dowd.

I wore blue jeans nearly
every day to school,
I wore them to church
on Wednesdays,
I wore them for dates
and fun.
I never wanted to
take them off,
except if it was hot
when there was
too much sun!

Many years have passed by now,
and last year hit a nerve,
I outgrew all my jeans,
I no longer had the verve!

I bought some nana jeans,
I’m sure you know the sort,
they don’t have zippers,
but elastic in the top like
bastions on a fort!

Well, nana jeans or not,
I still do love them blue,
they make me feel
quite comfy,
I don’t care how old I am,
they still make me feel so cool!

© Elaine Wood-Lane

Today’s suggestion for a poem was to write a sapphic, which are quatrains whose first three lines have eleven syllables, and the fourth, just five. There is also a very strict meter that alternates trochees (a two-syllable foot, with the first syllable stressed, and the second unstressed) and dactyls (a three-syllable foot, with the first syllable stressed and the remainder unstressed). The first three lines consist of two trochees, a dactyl, and two more trochees. The fourth line is a dactyl, followed by a trochee.

Well, I’m not up to sapphics! I’m more of a loose verse kind of girl. Lately I’ve been in a rather rhythmic, rhyming scheme, but much of the time, I’m just loose verse or a haiku. Haikus have rules, but they’re short. My attention span can handle those! An alternative was to write an ode to denim. So, I could very much handle that! I’m a denim kind of girl too! (Oh, I forgot. Mother told me 20 years ago I was no longer a “girl.” Anyone over the age of 30 was, in her book, no longer a girl but a woman. Oh well!)

Five Our Fathers and Eight Hail Marys

Here is a bit of humor from a fellow poet writing poems for NaPoWriMo. I don’t know if he meant it to be humorous, but I found it to be.

A Thing for Words


Confessionals in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, Spain,
by Georges Jansoone, via Wikipedia

It was silly, the heart-pounding,
sweaty-palmed anxiety
of sitting there in the twilight
of a near-empty church,
waiting to whisper what a ten-year-old
thought were grievous sins
to a forty-year-old man hiding in a box
behind a screen and a collar.

I remember the nuns making us
practice for first confession
and sending me back to my seat
to think up more sins, since
I couldn’t come up with enough
imaginary ones from which
I could be given a real penance.

I haven’t been back in many years.
Not since one of those guys
sitting in the darkness committed
his own too-real heart-pounding,
sweaty sins and felt forgiven
after some buddy in another box gave him
five Our Fathers and eight Hail Marys.

My catch-up poem, #13 in Poem-a-Day NaPoWriMo 2015, from a prompt asking for a…

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