Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

It's because of Jim this poem is undone.
He's funny like most people breathe.
I can't think to see to write.
It's because there are salads and scones
to make, dishes to wash,
and the table to set that
I can't stop to start a line.
It's because I hear Michie telling Kelly
she wants red hair like her,
or Janie explaining to Orion and Zoli
how to play and win at scrabble,
and Richard, Rick and Emma visiting
from Kalamazoo making our table 11 that
I can't stop to decipher, to light up a line.
It's because I hear how to make fresh raspberry sauce,
Mom, Jim and Mina's discussion of Les Miserables,
and Elaine and Tim, whose opinions I cherish,
ringing the door bell that
this poem is an unassembled casserole.
It's because I love seeing Orion's planetary smile
and Mom merry in her element that
I stand up and push in the chair.
Poetry and promise lost precedence.
I turn off my lap top.  Close the lid.
The voices of my family have won.
This poem is left undone.

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