Tag Archives: Paula Green poem

at the end of our garden is the Lake of Fog

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This is what I saw when I looked out the window this morning. It felt like the starting point for a poem. Starting points can take you anywhere! They can lead you to all kinds of poems.

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When I walked along the beach I saw one of the rock faces had become a fog face. I saw the fog racing out to sea down the valley as though it couldn’t wait to get to the water. And as I walked a little fog poem grew in my head. Because we are doing story poems at the moment, my poem became a story poem.

The Lake of Fog

At the end of our garden is the Lake of Fog.

The mother fog lives with the father fog

and their three fog daughters.

They eat fog toast for breakfast with fog butter

and their little foggy cat eats fog sardines.

Today is the second fog daughter’s birthday,

she is wearing a brightly coloured

dress so she can dance in the fog

and not get lost. She will blow

out seven candles and eat vanilla cake.

She will get a skipping rope and

an atlas of the world because

they never know where their lake

of fog will end up next.

Sometimes sonnets are something special and I say yum

Sonnets are a kind of poem that have been around for a long time. They have gone in and out of fashion but poets have never stopped writing them. Hundreds of years ago two very famous poets invented two different ways to make sonnets: Shakespeare in England and Petrarch in Italy.

Sonnets always have 14 lines. They used to have a rhyme pattern that poets stuck to (Shakespeare’s way and Petrarch’s way). Nowadays poets sometimes stick to a rhyme pattern but often they use NO rhyme at all.

They used to have a kind of beat called iambic pentameter that is a bit like walking. So the beat goes strong foot, soft foot, strong foot, soft foot. LIke this: I saw a duck swim up the creek and flap.

Sonnets used to be a kind of love poem but today they can be about anything.

Here are my tries at sonnets. The first one doesn’t rhyme but the second one does. I have made my own beat:

A Sonnet About My Dogs

My dogs are fast asleep in the sun —

the black one dreaming about toast

and the brown one dreaming about running

along the beach and chasing gulls.

If I wake them they will want to play

rugby with me or race up the hill

to check the mail, so I let them sleep

on and on, their tails twitching.

One day we will go out the gate

past the sheep and the cows

and the dogs will leap and spin

and make such an almighty din.

But back at home my dogs will flop

on the ground and watch me write.

 

A Sonnet About My Dogs

My dogs are fast asleep in the sun —

the black one dreaming about toast

and the brown one wanting to run

and chase gulls along the coast.

If I wake them they will want to keep

playing rugby with me, or they will be itching

to check the mail, so I let them sleep

on and on, their tails twitching.

One day we will go out of the house

and the dogs will leap and spin

past the sheep and the cows

making such such an almighty din.

But back at home my dogs will flop

on the ground and chew my socks.

 

ps Our dogs aren’t allowed in our house but I needed a word to  rhyme with cows.

They do get to go in Michael’s studio though and watch him paint!

 

You never know when you will find a poem

This is what happened to me this morning. I am really, really, really busy at the moment so this is a first draft and I will save it for later (no time to write poems when I am editing a big book!). My poem hasn’t even got a title yet!

This morning I had the rain

and the grey all to myself

on the beach, black sand

dimpled clean.

Driving home, a loose

horse was on the road,

so I had to catch its muddy

lead, and find somewhere

to take it in the middle

of nowhere.

 

Our dogs were born

in a stable and went mad

for the smell

of horse on my trousers.

marshmallow snow

In summer when I go to the beach

the wind flips the ocean across the sand

like marshmallows, but this morning

the winter wind whipped the sea foam

into freezing chunks of snow

(or so it seemed!).

 

We don’t get snow on Auckland’s west coast. But I love the snow when I visit the South island. There was so much sea foam on the sand this morning it looked spectacular. The wind was gusting it everywhere. What does the snow look like to you? Send a poem to paulajoygreen@gmail.com. Include your name, age, year and name of school. You can include the name of your teacher and their email address if you like.

Check out my photos from this morning:

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