August poem

Aug 18th, 2014 | By | Category: Articles, Lorna Smithers, Poetry

Lorna Smithersby Lorna Smithers





Grasshopper Party

I stepped through a puddle one day

and lost a Wellington boot

at a giant green grasshopper party.

They thought it was such a hoot!


I joined their ring with a skip and hop

that barely cleared the grass.

My feet would not dance to their stridulate fiddles

or do a damn thing that I asked.


Yet when I found my other half

we became a peculiar thing-

she was me and me was she

in a bundle of legs and wings.


In my clavicle beat a mighty green heart

and invincible lymph filled my veins,

I found I could fiddle all night long

and leap twenty feet in the rain.


How I danced in the midnight grass

as the orchestra kept gleeful time

in warble and waltz rubbing their legs.

I lost my grasshopper’s mind.


Now a giant green grasshopper

sits at my writing desk

and scribbles the tale of her other half

in a sun drenched meadow, at a puddle’s edge


pulling on a Wellington boot

with dreams of home as summer ends

and grasshoppers die one by one,

skipping, hopping, stumbling… to bed…

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