Post title poem: an A-Z slice of life

with thanks to fellow Slicer-poet Denise Krebs, who, upon realizing my Slice of Life Story Challenge posts have followed an abecedarian pattern, asked: “Will you do a post about the titles? Perhaps make an abecederian poem using the titles?”

I hadn’t thought of that. Is it possible? Would it even be worth reading?

As I have come to the end of the alphabet with five more posts to write and no plan… why not?

Here goes…

Auspices are favorable for my

barefoot baby ballerina on her toes, at present so like

crows, the absolute embodiment of Thought and Memory. It shows, in throes of

doggerel she tries to recite from her baby books, before she even knows words.

Eavesdropping at nap time, I hear her singing her own invented lullabies.

Focus on saving details of her story, I tell myself. Like the way she calls “Good boy” to the

graze academy of cows pastured behind the manse, and how proud she is of

herself in her little pink coat that shall NOT be removed, nay, all the livelong day.

I remember these from my own early story, memories flitting like tiny gray-cloaked

juncos in ancient winter grass:

koala life lessons from a book my grandmother read to me, in verse;

love notes in the cadence of her voice, ethereal rhythms falling on me like gentle

March snow. There was a book of birds tending their

nestlings as lovingly as Grandma tended me, slathering me in an

ode to menthol (Vick’s VapoRub) when I couldn’t breathe. I am well-wrapped in legacy.

Pursuing knowledge came early: Why is Granddaddy’s middle name St. Patrick?

Quotable Patrick, aka Granddaddy, with a sigh: I got no ideer. And he changed it—!

Remember these days, I say. Write now; who knows what the future holds? A long

sleep experiment poem unfolds. And so each day I am about

taking stock: my pile of good things grows to wealth untold. I play with words like

unfare while my mind time-travels to and fro, a

vagabond in search of a keeping-place, forever digging under the

wall on the writing. Oh, my baby ballerina and big sister nurture scientist/Jeopardy

X-ray expert/backseat prophet, someday you’ll each know how Franna prayed for

your one wild and precious life, filled to running over with awe and

zest—the whole A to Z gamut of my existence.

My granddaughters


with thanks to Two Writing Teachers for the monthlong Slice of Life Story Challenge

and several fellow Slicers who made requests for particular posts along the way

now: What to write tomorrow?

Ah, but story is in the making every precious moment that we live.

19 thoughts on “Post title poem: an A-Z slice of life

  1. This is marvelous!! I am so impressed with the structure and the incredible choice of words throughout. I want to give it a try, but it feels very intimidating!!


    • Thank you, Amy – and *whew* – your words are comforting, as I wasn’t sure if if this would work. You now have me thinking… even if titles don’t work out for a poem, the main idea-word or words behind each post might…and then there’s the possibility of an alphabet poem composed of favorite words, or centered around a theme…you could so do any of these! HEY—what about favorite song titles, as music is one of your life’s languages??

      Liked by 1 person

    • Here is the funny thing: I didn’t really plan to give my posts alphabetical titles this year – I did it intentionally last year. This time I happened to start my first and second titles with A and B, then someone wondered what I would say about crows, so… then it became a thing. I think a lot about titles because they frame the piece – but never imagined writing a title poem. Thank you for these thoughts!


  2. I would have just slapped them in a list poem format and called it a day…but you? Not you? You had to go and outdo yourself by writing this really gorgeous poem that makes sense and flows and connects all the disparate ideas. Wow…just wow!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. You never cease to amaze me. It makes sense, it’s abecedarian, and it’s Golden Shovel at the beginning instead of the end (is that a reverse Golden Shovel?). Wow. Just wow. And that picture with Franna’s girls at the end is just precious. You have now officially outdone yourself for the 12 thousandth time this year. (BTW: Hey Dudes in Sparkling Rose Gold – – ARRIVED – – thank you for the review! I spent the morning in my closet with a helmet on with tornado warnings, so it’s too rainy to wear them today, so I’m wearing my duck boots – – and swimming to work, so I’m told, around 10)….but I can’t wait to wear them from your Pile of Good Things poem line……Beautiful poem today!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Kim – it is tornado country here, too, sometimes. We had a mild thunderstorm today but nothing worse, so far. I know what it is like to hunker down in a warning. I hope tings clear there, soon. Yea to the sparkling rose gold Hey Dudes! When you get to wear them, you must tell me what you think. And – thank you for the beautiful thoughts re: the poem, which I really hoped would turn out, as I had no other idea after “zest”!


  4. Fran, that is amazing! Here is another one to add to your book of poetry for the girls. It is so lovely and telling, and the way you used simile and metaphor to tame “juncos” and “koalas” to sit still and be part of this sweet poem was just magical. One of my favorite lines is “how proud she is of / herself in her little pink coat that shall NOT be removed, nay, all the livelong day.” I can just imagine this scenario! So precious.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for these words, Denise, and also for the inspiration. I truly had NO idea what I would write next! My Micah, the barefoot baby ballerina with the pink coat that shall NOT be removed, is at the loveliest and entertaining age (16 mos.) Every moment with her and her sister is the joy of my life…yes, I am recording for their tomorrows.


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