Eggs – Pantoum II for dVerse

I hold you up to see the eggs,
five of them, blue as April sky.
You cling on with your toddler legs,
observing them so solemnly.

Five of them, blue as April sky,
each one a fragile, freckled womb;
observing them so solemnly,
we hope that they will make it through –

each one a fragile, freckled womb,
holding an ugly, hairless thing.
we hope that they will make it through,
and in July, we’ll hear them sing.

Holding an ugly, hairless thing,
in need of food, and warmth, and love,
and in July we’ll hear them sing
of earth below, and sky above.

In need of food, and warmth, and love,
I watch you grow and learn new things
of earth below, and sky above,
and start to spread your fledgling wings.

I watch you grow and learn new things;
you cling on with your toddler legs,
and start to spread your fledgling wings:
I hold you up, to see the eggs.

My second pantoum for the dVerse form exploration, hosted this month by Gina. I have a love-hate relationship with pantoums. One day I will write the perfect pantoum, and then I WILL NEVER WRITE ONE AGAIN. It’s really hard to maintain sense and repetition, and keep it all flowing smoothly. This one comes close, I think right now, but doubtless I’ll come back to it in a couple of weeks, and shake my head over it. There are certainly a couple of continuity errors that I am hyper-aware of. However, this exploration is about growing as a poet and opening up to feedback, so I’m putting it out there. I’ve actually got less confident about it as I’ve written this explanation/justification, so I’m going to stop now.

NaPoWriMo 13 – don’t put all your eggs in one basket

The bath is full of turtle eggs.

There’s a wren’s egg nestled
in among the tea-bags, and
there are goldfinches hatching
all along the mantelpiece.

I opened the kitchen cupboard,
and it was full of duck eggs,
palest blue, like a whisper of sky,

and there are snake eggs
heaped by the wood-burning stove.

Tiny jewelled humming-bird eggs
hang in cobweb baskets from each beam,
and there’s a stately, plump
ostrich egg throned on the sofa,

and in the dining room
a hundred thousand butterflies
are laying pin-prick eggs
on the green velvet curtains.

Today NaPoWriMo asks us to play with proverbs, invert them and see what happens.