Where in the World Are Your Poems?
That's an ironic question from me, because it is all of you who should be asking where in the world my poem is!
UPDATE: It's finally here!
And I'd be able to tell you if I hadn't started a new job this week and been running around getting all my requirements ready, or sitting down and trying to commit all my new training to memory. But you'd have better luck asking me where my tax forms are than where my June poem is, although last week I didn't even remember what those tax forms looked like! =P
I'm putting up this post anyway so that you can all start linking up in the combox. Why should you be deprived of each other's poetic company just because I, your host, am at my prosaic worst this week?
Remember that if you have entered the June Giveaway, you may claim your extra W&Q entries as long as you link your poem up before the 27 June deadline!
Question: What is par?
Last Sunday night we chose charades;
She signed, "It sounds like car"
And mimed for us a winning swing,
But no one guessed as far
As the rolling greens of Scotland
Where ancient courses are--
Until I remembered Jeopardy
Just like a trivia star,
Pressed my imaginary buzzer
And asked . . .
This month, my prompts were an unusually well-matched pair. It's too bad I was their third wheel. My grandfather may have been a champion golfer in his day, but I have never had any affinity for the sport.
Which is why my golf poem is . . . not quite a golf poem. =P
Now enjoy everyone else's great June contributions . . .