Once again,
I signed up to do the Progressive Poem hoping I would be able to meet, no embrace the challenge.
It might be just one line but to me that line makes me part of something
wonderful.
Thanks Irene for organizing this. Okay, I've stalled
long enough.... my line is at the bottom in bold print.
I’m fidget, friction, ragged edges—
I sprout stories that frazzle-dazzle,
stories of castles, of fires that crackle
with dragonwords that smoke and sizzle.
But edges sometimes need sandpaper,
like swords need stone and clouds need vapour.
So I shimmy out of my spurs and armour
facing the day as my fickle, freckled self.
I thread the crowd, wear freedom in my smile,
and warm to the coals of conversation.
Enticed to the stage by strands of story,
I skip up the stairs in anticipation.
Flip around, face the crowd, and freeze!
Shiver me. Look who’s here. Must I disappear?
By hook or by crook, I deserve a second look!
I cheer. Please, have no fear. Find the book.
But wait! I’ll share the lines I know by
heart.
Mythicalhowls, fierytones slip from my lip
Blue scales flash, claws
rip, the prophecy begins
I now
hand off this adventure to BJ at Blue Window
I can’t wait to see where you will take us.
Here are the links to everyone
doing a line for this year’s poem.