| Filed under writing
10543 – Zip Ode
By Ann Chiappetta
(10) The bridge over the creek lies Tomkins Ave.
(5) Salty Harbor air
(4) Mamaroneck
(3) Is my heart.
About this form
Invented in 2015, the Zip Ode is a five-line poem about where you live, written in the form of your zip code. It can reflect either lines of words or syllables. Typically a zero is a wild card. This poem uses syllables to represent the numbers and ten syllables to represent a zero.
Why I Haven’t Been Blogging
By Ann Chiappetta
Dedicated to 2023 National Poetry Month
I haven’t been blogging
Because my mind is fogging
From NPM – rest assured I’ve been writing
Scribbling, typing and scribing
Alphabetically, in fact
Abecedarians, ballads and couplets
Haiku, Limericks a letters
Verses penned about purple purses or petals
The view to the summit is near
And it looks like the terrain is clear
Yet The flag is yet to be unfurled
And the completion of NPM
Will be celebrated by the world
When it is uncurled —
And next year we will grab our literary packs
And retrace the poetic path to the summit
Inspired by a poetry-lined path.
A great read and resource for Spring.
The writer’s Grapevine is a quarterly news and literary magazine featuring Writers, Small Business owners and Nonprofits.
In each issue you’ll find a variety of Articles, Essays, Short Stories and Poems for your enjoyment and education.
Read the full edition at: https://pattysworlds.com/the-writers-grapevine-spring-and-things-
To learn more about Patty Fletcher and her magazine, here is the link to her blog:
Patty L. Fletcher
author and social media marketing assistant.
Learn more at: http://www.pattysworlds.com
| Filed under nonfiction Poem
The Ride
To Pepsi, the best horse I ever rode.
By Ann Chiappetta
forge the stream On docile
chestnut Appaloosa. Hooves
splash and click on submerged stones
this is big country air crisp and wild
A split trail. Guide points
“Mountain lion won’t look for you there. You got two hours, follow the stream to get back,”
Horse and rider brush Past weeping willows and wildflowers.
A light shake of reins, a tap of heels
Trot, canter, galloping
horse jumps. clears mud puddle
rider flies,
lands with a wet plop
on back, breathless
warm breath, big nose nuzzles face
mud splattered Eyes open
soft equine gaze says,
“Hey, let’s finish the ride,”
Lake Tahoe, Nevada September 1980