~ The Poet's Place Cafe~

Hello, Dave! Thought I'd do something different.

I've written a prose poem and a form poem on childhood memories a few assignments back, so I'm re-posting it below. What I'm curious though is how would YOU (a third party) define my "voice"?

I think I know what I sound like, but I do wonder how other people interpret my "voice", so to speak. (Anyone else is also welcome to comment, thanks!)



Prose Poem

A sly look. A cheeky grin. That's all it takes to trigger a fit of giggles or a bout of hysterics. Miming wildly behind Nana's back, we discuss our next mission. All the while, maintaining straight faces at the dinner table. Nothing is dropped. Nothing is spilled.

A sly look. A cheeky grin. That's all it takes to trigger a flurry of fists or a round of blows. Pummelling viciously at each other, we air our mortal grievances. Suddenly, rough hands reach down and pull us all apart, cuffing each one on the ears. Everyone stops. Everyone cries.

A sly look. A cheeky grin. That's all it takes to trigger a brotherly hug or a sisterly kiss. Sitting quietly on the porch swing -- arm in arm and cheek to cheek -- we discuss the day's affairs until our long shadows disappear into the night. All is forgiven. All is forgotten.


Form Poem

A sly look . . . a cheeky grin . . .
Giggles and hysterics abound.
War plans are made at the table --
Still, there's good manners all round.

A sly look . . . a cheeky grin . . .
Fists and blow are exchanged.
Justice is swiftly delivered
and comrades now end up estranged.

A sly look . . . a cheeky grin . . .
cements the brotherly ties.
Sisterly hearts are forgiving,
and true love never can die.




Thank you for humouring me!

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **