Any Time of Day – GloPoWriMo 2017 – Day Four – Enigma

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Any Time of Day

I am slippery

I am smooth

And I am top

.

I am made of paper

I have songs to sing

I am in a folio

Sometimes,

I am three in the wind

 .

I am curved in places

I am a modern innovation

I’m always on the bottom

.

I am made of paper

I have stories to tell

I am a favourite of lovers

Any time of day

Some would do without me

Some would not

 .

Sometimes I cover the ground

I am old as trees

Sometimes you see through me

Or sometimes, the broad view

Through the trees

And I will come to mind

Sometimes I am rain

.

I am made of paper

I have songs to sing

Sometimes, I am three in the wind

Sometimes, I am rain

 

Benita H. Kape © 4.4.2017

 

 

Today I’d like you to take some inspiration from Elgar and write a poem with a secret – in other words, a poem with a word or idea or line that it isn’t expressing directly. The poem should function as a sort of riddle, but not necessarily a riddle of the “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” variety. You could choose a word, for example, “yellow,” and make everything in the poem something yellow, but never actually allude to their color. Or perhaps you could closely describe a famous physical location or person without ever mentioning what or who it actually is.

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9 thoughts on “Any Time of Day – GloPoWriMo 2017 – Day Four – Enigma

      • Ingrid Bruck says:

        Benita, I signed up for ApiaryLit with SE.  The assignment yesterday was Going the Distance (by writing one sentence in 30 lines.)  The prompt made me think of busy Wrenna, her head spinning as she fills it with all that baby learning, I almost get out of breath watching Wrenna in motion, Here’s what I wrote about my 11 month old grand daughter whom you met when she was the size of a pea and I was singing in the rain: Spending Time With Wrenna  She looks in our direction, smiling in recognition,and keeps on clunking two blocks to make noiseas she does a jig, her two feet thumping the floorin triple time to music playing, her body bobbing a dancewhile she smacks her blocks for rhythm,switches to banging blocks on the floor, then gets up and walks to the safety gate where we stand on the other side,stopped by the mesh fence which we open and quickly close to keep her inside the cage of two rooms where she playsin a childproofed space that doesn’t protect her from falling,and we come in as she toddles away like an unsteady drunk,trips and falls on her bottom, much better than smacking her face, as learning how to fall is a big part of learning how to walk, then she pulls herself up, a V reversed, using two hands for liftoffthen wobbles off, stops to pick up a milk jug and a block,drops them in a clatter to pickup Phil Hiccup, her giraffe named for her baby hiccups, then brings Phil to me and I hold and hug him until she grabs him back upside down to climb inside the collapsed ring of her tunnel on the floorwhere she drops him and climbs back out to join Grumpawho has stacked up ten blocks in a tower for her to tumbleand they do it over and over and over again, tireless,she collapses tall piles with her clever hands and in other ways,kicking over stacks, head butting to knock them down,then moves off with one block and a shake toy, hitting them together, as she heads back to climb in and out of the ring until Radar entersand she follows the cat who jumps to the window sill out of her reach,then she sees Grumpa lifting the carpet up and down, walks over there,uses her two hands to lift and drop the rug, she tastes it, she sniffs it,then abandons it for a plastic food bowl that she lifts over her faceas she says numm-numm for it tastes good, then picks up Phil,sticks his head in the bowl, says minga-minga and feeds him. 

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Susanne says:

    I like the repetition, in German we would say ‘mit Nachdruck’, with gentle pressure you remind us again of the worthy things. We know what it is, and it is one in many, multiplied but still one. The layering comes across beautifully.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A woman after my own heart – domesticity is highly over-rated in my view. I’m lucky my husband likes cooking. Our fridge has a magnet on it that says “We only have a kitchen because it came with the house” and another that says, “My house was clean yesterday – sorry you missed it!”

    I couldn’t see your riddle for the life of me. My daughter read the first stanza and knew what it was …

    Liked by 1 person

    • Magnets can be such fun. My sister is a marvellous cook. However, she has just drawn my attention to a book published in Austalia named Barossa Food. Large numbers of German settled in Barossa, a wine-growing district in the mid 19th century and my grandparents eventually came to NZ from there. The book has recipes my Dad cooked or prepared when I was a child. Liver wurst etc. Glad you’ve discovered the enigma riddle.

      Like

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