Poetry with Lynda Ladret

Apr 9 2019, 10:29 pm in , ,

In keeping with the National Poetry Month theme I invited Author and Poet Lynda Ladret to the blog. I met Lynda in a small writing group and asked her to tell us about her writing  and share her poetry with us. 

Rita: Lynda, why do you write?

Lynda: I write to please myself. For my own entertainment and amusement A lot of the stories I write are creative non-fiction, about my past experiences.  On the other hand, my poetry just seems to write itself.  I like writing stories for the opportunity to explore emotion, to try to define meanings.  It’s therapeutic at times.  Writing is the scariest, most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done.  I love it!

Rita: How long have you been writing?

Lynda: Three years.

Rita: Have you shared your work before?

Lynda: I started posting poems and short-stories on facebook, where quite a few friends and acquaintances made positive comments, and encouraged me to keep writing. 

Rita: Oooo. I love short stories. We’ll have to talk about that another time.   

Rita: Have you taken any writing craft classes?

Lynda: Yes. I enrolled in a poetry class in 2017 and have never looked back.

Here are Lynda’s poems. Joy and Regret. 

 


 

 

Wow!  Thank you for sharing your poems with us. With a few words you manage to tell us a story filled with deep emotion. Well done.  

Leave a comment and let Lynda know your enjoyed her poems.  

You can check Lynda out on Facebook 

April is National Poetry Month

Apr 5 2019, 10:16 am in

I admit I know nothing about poetry. Except what speaks to me. When I open a book of poems I can honestly get lost in them. I marvel at the author’s ability to tell a story in a few lines. To draw me in and make me feel. I’m sharing a few.

 

Impromptu – To Kate Carol – Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

When from your gems of thought I turn 
To those pure orbs, your heart to learn, 
I scarce know which to prize most high — 
The bright i-dea, or the bright dear-eye.

 

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

 

Oh, the Places You’ll Go! By Dr. Suess

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

 

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

The Toucan by Shel Silverstein

Tell me who can
Catch a toucan?
Lou can.

Just how few can
Ride the toucan?
Two can.

What kind of goo can
Stick you to the toucan?
Glue can.

Who can write some
More about the toucan?
You can!

 

Do you have favorite poems? Please share.

Rita 

 

 

 

 

April is National Poetry Month.

Apr 2 2018, 2:26 pm in , , ,

I know nothing about poetry. Except what speaks to me. When I open a book of poems I can honestly get lost in them. I marvel at the author’s ability to tell me a story in a few lines. To draw me in and make me feel. I’m sharing a few.

 

Impromptu – To Kate Carol – Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

When from your gems of thought I turn 
To those pure orbs, your heart to learn, 
I scarce know which to prize most high — 
The bright i-dea, or the bright dear-eye.

 

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

 

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

Oh, the Places You’ll Go! By Dr. Suess

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

 

An Irish Poem ~Unknown

Death leaves a heartache
No one can heal
Love leaves a memory
No one can steal.

 

The Toucan by Shel Silverstein
Tell me who can
Catch a toucan?
Lou can.

Just how few can
Ride the toucan?
Two can.

What kind of goo can
Stick you to the toucan?
Glue can.

Who can write some
More about the toucan?
You can!

 

My Spoon ~Unknown Author
Greasy grimy gopher guts.
Mutilated monkey meat
Little dirty birdies feet
And I forgot my spoon.

~Unknown because who would admit to writing this?

Do you have favorite poems? Please share.

To learn more about Poetry Month click here 

   

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