Saturday June 28th, 2014

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about something that was left: unwritten.

By the end of the market today we'd sold out of raspberries, strawberries, peas, and cherries (in that order). Moved a few mint plants as well, which was nice. But it was definitely a quieter market than last weekend's, so it was probably a good thing that we didn't have as many cherries as I had been wishing for earlier this week.

Maja is leaving us Monday morning, as she's headed to Vancouver for a few days of being a tourist before heading home to Denmark. Genevieve is going back to Calgary on Monday for a couple of weeks as well, since she needs to get some things sorted out at home before rejoining us, hopefully for the remainder of the summer. We will certainly miss them both.

Especially since we don't currently have any helpers lined up for July.

It could be an interesting stretch coming up.

Mine:

I thought it was understood,
That it need not be spelled out;
But you appear confounded,
So I shall erase all doubt.

4 Comments:

Greg said...

Heh, is today's prompt and writing also inspired by my comment from yesterday? This is definitely an unusual way of replying to comments... and what are you going to do when everyone starts asking questions? ;-)
I'm a little surprised that the cherries went last, but I'm sure you weren't ever worried about selling them, so that was probably quite nice. And I'm sure July will be an easier month now that you're caught up with the weeding and mulching and everything – hopefully you'll be more carefully keeping the mometum you have rather than trying to build it again!
And... that's a sweet little poem :)

Unwritten
The sacred words were carved in sand:
they read, "Your rules are all unwritten,
I cannot do this any more,
So here it is: I'm quittin'."

MosesMalone said...

The unwritten story of her colossal truth
Was told by her daughter with a sweetness of youth
Unwritten it was by a hideous fact of long
She was unread and could only speak in song.

Aholiab said...

Unwritten

Seventeen head of my cattle lumber toward your pasture
The sole of my boot trods the dirt that is now mine
We’re both Texans
All it took was a handshake

Marc said...

Greg - hah, no, but to be honest I can't actually remember what inspired this one.

I like that those words were considered 'sacred'. Though that leaves me wondering just who wrote them...

Mo - that's quite a lovely poem! Has a touch of sadness but an overall feeling of optimism and beauty. That's a neat trick!

Aholiab - that's pretty much a whole story in just four lines; consider me impressed!