I recall an advertising jingle for toothpaste that was frequently broadcast during my childhood. It went- 'You'll wonder where the yellow went when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent.'
Naturally, as kids do, we amended the wording to, 'You'll wonder where the yellow went when you brush your teeth with wet cement.'
I am sharing this little memory because one day last week my wife Vicki remarked on the spring weather and mentioned its frustrating variability. The day before had delivered welcoming sunshine and a bright blue sky. This new day had quickly morphed into a drab grey sky with clouds packing the promise of rain. The wind was slicing through the garden. Sun lover Vicki, remarked, 'I wonder where the sun went.'
It was at this point that old jingle sparked to life in my mind. It was an ideal poetic provocation. So I scooped it up and words began romping around in my head. A little while later, a poem began to reveal itself in my notebook. I further reshaped and polished it on my computer.
I Wonder Where the Yellow Went
Yesterday the sky
A clear and brilliant blue
Inspired hope
The sun on my back
Warmed my bones.
Today
The clouds
Wolf grey
Hang despairingly low
Like a sook’s bottom lip.
The wind is a bully
It slaps my face
Bending trees to its will
Shaking the leafing daylights from their branches.
I wonder where the yellow went...
Alan j Wright
It is Poetry Friday and this time our host is Jone Rush MacCulloch. Jone brings readers a post sharing a range of poetic prompts inspired by Edgar Allan Poe and Halloween. She provides samples of 'found' poetry she has cleverly created.
That middle stanza with its wolf grey is a wonder, Alan!! Truly...
ReplyDeleteThat is most gracious of you, Liz. I must admit writing that line gave me great satisfaction. Sometimes for we poets the exact right words tumble into place. It is a moment to savour. Thank you kindly.
DeleteThanks for sharing your process for this poem, Alan! I'm off too look up what a sook is! I hope the yellow returns soon. We are headed into six months of gray. ( I honestly hope not, but in reality, we are.)
ReplyDeleteCarol, the process helps the writer and informs the reader as well as potential young poets. The word 'sook' is a very Australian/British term use to refer to someone who lacks courage, is wimpy, a softy, or a crybaby. As kids you never wanted to hear the words 'Sooky-sooky la la' directed at you. Good luck with the gray...
Deleteoooooh, I need to look up what a 'sook' is. I'm not familiar with that term. And, as you may know by my horrible whining over the years, I'm so JEALOUS of your spring. Enjoy every moment of it. I want a full report each week while I shiver into winter. Those clouds like grey wolves are wonderful!
ReplyDeleteAh the word, sook. Fun for logophiles. Linda, I shall endeavour to bottle sunshine and spread it into my upcoming poetry posts. Glad you noticed the wolf grey clouds.
DeleteAlan, I also had to look up the word sook. Thanks for you additional meaning in the response to Carol L. :The wind is a bully/It slaps my face" is a strong way to shed light on the magnitude of the wind and "wolf grey" adds drama to nature.
ReplyDeleteSook is a great descriptor, Carol and is commonly heard in conversations in Australia and Britain. Feel free to adopt it. Thank you for noticing my conscious word use in this poem.
Delete"Shaking the leafing daylights..." -- Love how you dropped humor into this poem!
ReplyDeleteYou're a gem, Patricia. Thanks for noticing my little dash of wordplay. I could not resist.
DeleteYour description of glowering clouds as "wolf grey" is spot on, Alan. Love that.
ReplyDeleteAnd I remember that Pepsodent jingle. Thanks for the nostalgic laugh!
Karen, I don't feel quite so alone given you also recall this jingle for Pepsodent. Thank you also for your noticing of the term, wolf grey.
DeleteThat line: the wind is a bully. And sook, had to look up the meaning. And I forget that spring is winging its way as we are heading toward winter. I would find it hard to celebrate Halloween in the spring.
ReplyDeleteGlad you like the bully line, Jone. Sook demanded to be included. Our respective seasons are opposites. I recall how at one stage in my life, while working in New York, I would endure two winters, One in each country-that was somewhat challenging. Halloween in spring is a bit odd, but those who celebrate it here, don't seem to let it interfere with their participation.
DeleteI love that your spring poem works just as well in the Northern Hemisphere for all the yellow leaves being suddenly on the ground after an autumn storm!
ReplyDeleteSeasonally adjusted, Mary Lee. The hemispheres are no problem. Good get by you.
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