Poetry Corner
Call for Poetry: Poetry is defined as the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts. Do you find enjoyment penning poetry? We’d love to read your words! Share your favorite original poem with us, and you just might find it published in our next newsletter and/or on our website and Facebook page. Email your poems to us at info@stoughtonseniorcenter.com, or mail a copy to us at:
Stoughton Area Senior Center
248 W. Main Street
Stoughton, WI 53589
Click on a name below, and enjoy their submissions of original prose:
Jo Ann Benisch
Ann Bernstein
Bill Buchanan
Grace Crook
Gail Garrison
David Lund
Tom Nelson
Suzanne Rice
Leitha Schenkenberg
SAINT VINNEY’S TOASTER
I faintly hear a pained groan
from this chrome plated beauty,
my thirteen grained slice
is burnt or not enough.
On the periodic table of elements,
one side is the purist form of carbon
and the other side is cold.
-By Tom Nelson
KNEEDEEP
Green you hop onto my rock,
Sad I dozed, but now I waken
To confront your eyes that mock:
"Pardon, has this seat been taken?"
Frog, you croak at cloudy skies
With your knees stuck in your armpits.
As the echo of it dies,
Other frogs pick up their trumpets.
Free you offer evening song
To a crowd of one. I tarry
As the humor of your pose
Shifts my mood from sad to merry.
-By Suzanne Rice, Stoughton, WI
A HALF A DOG HIGH
A dachshund is my choice for a pet
I bought a puppy named Teddy
He has had several cousins
His favorite is one named Freddy
The pet’s color is mostly black
There’s not a speck of red
At night Teddy gets tired
A cage becomes his bed
A regular activity is running outdoors
Teddy gives chase to Betsy Bunny
Who will out run whom?
Betsy doesn’t think it is funny
Most dogs enjoy getting rewards
Our pet loves getting his treat
Is the gift made of rawhide?
No, the dog prefers meat
A special shelf holds pet supplies
Teddy smells a vanilla bone
His bark suggests he wants it now
He prefers to chew it alone
I love to sit down and relax
Sometimes the rest becomes a snooze
It’s Teddy’s chance to search for mischief
Without looking hard, he finds my shoes
At age nine, our pet is full grown
He is a half a dog high
And a dog and a half long
It looks to be a long way up to the sky
At times I may moan and groan
Sometimes all I do is fret
All in all the hassle is worth it
I am glad Teddy is our pet
-By Jo Ann Benisch, Stoughton, WI
MOM
This cannot possibly be
My Mom turned 96 you see
She looks so young you won't believe
But truly I would not deceive
She works a smartphone
A tablet too
And gives advice when I feel blue
Plants and creatures, books and art
Bring joy to her, that's just a start
I feel as lucky as can be
Because she shared these gifts with me!
-By Gale Garrison, Stoughton, WI
THE NEXT ADVENTURE
As I lay in my bed drifting into sleep I hear the distant, lonely sound of a train whistle. I am old now, but that lonely sound calls to me. It calls for one more adventure. It speaks to me of rolling prairies, tall mountains and wind driven seas. I hear my youth calling to me for just one more adventure. For though I am old, my heart is young still. As I recall past adventures I lay there tired, yet unable to sleep. I tell my youth just let me rest, and we will have one more adventure. Just let me rest for a bit. As I drift off to sleep I realize I will not awaken to this world again, and I dream of my next great adventure after that long goodnight. Yes, that lonely whistle was calling to me. It was calling me home.
-By Bill Buchanan, Stoughton, WI
BRETT FAVRE
There once was a Packer named Brett
A talent we’ll never forget
He won games galore
A Super Bowl and more
In the hall of fame? You bet
His love of the game is real
Even hurt he plays with zeal
He gives it his all
He always stands tall
No matter how others may feel
He was always our Brett
Even as a Viking or Jet
He left under a cloud
The protests were loud
Do we still love him? You bet
By Bill Buchanan, Stoughton, WI
