Poetry Month?

Impossible that it's ten o'clock. April is poetry month, so I'm told. Happily I already celebrated unknowingly by spending time with some friends passing Longfellow back and forth. Our favorite was either "Maidenhood" or "The Village Blacksmith." When I was in school my mom/teacher made me write poems. On demand. Come on! Inspiration does not come at my beckoning. And how often do I feel inspired without any words to express the perfectly poetic sentiment of my day? I think that's what I mean by "romanticism." Anyway, I did so want to write a poem for my sentiments, and it is poetry month, so I gave myself the assignment and resorted to the means I used to complete my high school English assignments: list what strikes you as poetic about your thoughts today, and form them into some sort of verse. Except they used to rhyme. So ignore my ridiculous form. And forgive the fact that the strongest point of my poetry is using words with precision, but not so much creativity or parallel.

Friday afternoon, mind swimming with Synonyms
For diligence and self control, perseverance and temperance
I’d rather think of poetry, of rain and wind and crashing seas
Scottish shores and Celtic tunes, flutes and violins wailing.

Sitting to think and compose and to focus,
I lie back against the pillow on my bed,
Fully awake, I let my eyes close
Mysteriously, just being, with a hand above my head.

Missing my friends, strange loneliness dull
As the soft throb of my heart behind
High, keen thrills of longing and wishing
Ready for a change and afraid of what it might be

Needing one to excite me, to share
The passion of a poem, a truth, or a care
Tears are more fitting for the sorrow of life
And days still come with love and laughter

Sisters eating cookies together, not looking at each other
Barely talking, but just being
Existing, Individuals not stories
Being personal and together

Books are exciting, words speak for themselves
Metaphors alternately dry or compelling
History the truest voice into my need
Casually combines love, war, and theology.

That's it. Are you a real poet? What do you have to share?

Oh, by the way - I found this real sonnet by an authentic poet, and I bookmarked it on del.icio.us today. My wordpress has a pathetic sidebar link to my recent del.icio.us tags - most of which are not so recent. I say that and then trying to retrieve the link, del.icio.us isn't working. But I'm sure it will be sometime.

To God be all glory.