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Poetry Prompts

November Visual Poetry Prompt

Posted by ⋅ ⋅ 13 Comments
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harvest lady.jpg

Made by the Master Gardeners in Crossville, Tennesse.
H/t: Smith County Master Gardeners and JeanMarie Olivieri.

Post your gleanings in the comments below.

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.

Discussion

13 thoughts on “November Visual Poetry Prompt”

  1. The Scarecrow’s wife waited at the end of the lane
    for her husband to come home again.
    The job took a lot out of him but she had plenty
    to fill him in. If only she had time to visit the salon.

    Liked by 1 person

    Posted by JeanMarie | November 4, 2019, 3:52 PM
    Reply to this comment

  2. it was hard to define
    the cherub statue they used
    sometimes as a lady abundance
    sometimes as a baby Jesus
    or the Easter bunny in the spring festivals
    but he really sogged his biscuits when
    they tried to turn him into a leprechaun
    you have to have principles

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Lisa Tomey | November 5, 2019, 4:29 PM
    Reply to this comment

  3. Maggie of the Corn

    After the fall harvest
    Young Maggie was found
    And all to the earth
    She seemed to be bound

    In the fields she’d tarried
    With a beau she’d adored
    They’d lost track of daylight
    A stalk caught her waistcord

    Her lover she lost
    As they groped in the dark
    But really he ran
    ‘Cause his love was a lark

    Days came and went
    Her feet caught in a row
    As stalks wound her white dress
    They’d rustle and grow

    As for her kinfolk
    Who’d believed she’d eloped
    Of seeing young Maggie
    They began to lose hope

    When Maggie was found
    She was not what they knew
    Her black hair fall’s color
    A rusty flaxen hairdo

    The earth she had wed so
    Young girls be forewarned
    If a suitor comes calling
    Stay out of the corn

    Liked by 2 people

    Posted by Steve Croft | November 6, 2019, 12:43 PM
    Reply to this comment

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