Whose socks these are I think I know
They come from houses down the row
They will not see me standing here
To gather socks, my back stooped low

My little dog must think it odd
Each time I sweep socks from the sod
Between the house and trampoline
The sun it sets, I sigh and nod

She gives a little bark to ask
If I will let her share my task
I shake my head in dim reply
The sky’s ablaze, I stop to bask

The ombre sea fades dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And socks to wash before I sleep
And socks to wash before I sleep

~suelarkinsweems ’13

Remember when I used to post poems on Fridays? Yeah, me neither… for my new readers, this poem is a tribute to our family’s huge double bed trampoline Big Bessie Green. Yes, I might be a little overly sentimental about her, but she has stood through four kids (and all manner of friends and neighborhood rugrats), four duty stations, hurricanes, earthquakes on both US coasts and on Okinawa soil, and she came down four times last summer during the onslaught of typhoons. I swear she is the reason (along with God’s grace) my children survived preschoolerdom when we had small backyards.

Note for writers and teachers: I often have my students write lines of poetry based on the classics (or in the case of younger students, well-known verse– I’ve even used Dr. Seuss). Sometimes I have students identify and recreate meter or rhyme scheme. Other times I ask them to copy the voice or atmosphere. Other times we follow Sir Walter Raleigh’s example of “The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd” and write answers or satire in response to a poem. (Even Shakespeare did it! Check out his satire on the sonnets of his day: Sonnet 130) Reading and writing poetry is one the best ways to develop an ear for language. 

Links to poems referenced here:
“Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” 
“The Passionate Shepherd to His Love” 
“Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd”