Two Days Left to Enter the Roses are Red Giveaway

Only a few more days to enter my Roses are Red Poem giveaway. I've had fun reading your poems and love that so many of you gave verse a try.

Last Wednesday I shared a few of the poems that were more than a Roses are red simple verse but I've enjoyed them all. It's fun to just go with the first thing we think of and make a poem. That's the kind of poet I am. 

Roses are red. 

Violets are blue. 

I do appreciate 

Readers like you.

It was fun to see how so many of you included how you liked my books or the idea of winning one of my books in your poems.

I got identical poems from Bonnie and Marianne. 

Roses Are Red

Violets Are Blue

Make Me A Winner

So My Dreams Can Come True

How could I keep from liking Jackie's poem? 

The weather has been very cold,

But my book reading doesn't get put on hold.

I stay warm snuggled up in my bed,

With Ann's books dancing in my head.

Thanks, Jackie, your poem made me smile. But I like C-Jay's approach too. Just write from your heart and don't worry about that rhyming stuff. She's right. Not all poems rhyme.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.

Sugar is sweet,

I love books. :)

It doesn't rhyme, but then, not all poems do. And, it's from the heart!

And last we have this from Gigi. It made me smile and think of how much fun puppies are.

This is about the two puppies I got last year.  I couldn't choose just one so I brought home sisters last year. Their names are Gemma and Lily and are just as sweet as can be.
 

Roses are red, 
Violets are blue,
I couldn't choose just one,
so I brought home two.

So you have until Tuesday night, March 3rd at midnight EST to throw your name in my giveaway hat. You don't have to write a poem, but you can if you want. You might win the pretty necklace along with your choice of one of my books, maybe Love Comes Home or Angel Sister or whichever you want if you are the winner. Just leave a comment here with a way to contact you or shoot me an e-mail at annhgabhart(at)hughes(dot)net. You must be 18 to enter. 

And thanks to all of you who have joined in with my giveaway fun.

Happiness is a Poem and a Flower

"No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn." (Hal Borland)

"Winter lingered so long in the lap of Spring that it occasioned a great deal of talk."  (Bill Nye)

I'm wishing I could spot some little spring beauty flowers like those above, but not yet this year. Those little blooms are still sleeping under the snow that has stuck around way past its welcome. But it's a good thing we don't have to find our happiness in the weather. While most of the poems I've received with entries to my Roses are Red Contest that's going on now, have been simple four line verses, a few readers have shared poems that put my amateur rhyming to shame. So tonight I'm sharing them with you.

Happiness  by Nona

Happiness comes from many places.
Singing birds and familiar faces.

A hug from a friend
when you are blue.

Lifting of the heart
when your love is true.

Sitting in the shade by a 
babbling brook.

Cuddled into a chair
with your favorite book.

~~~

Lovely poem, Nona. Peggy stayed with the Roses are red theme but made it so much more as she looks forward to Spring.

Roses are Red  by Peggy

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

When this Winter is through

The flowers will shake, and open their heads

Their colors are grand

Some smell pretty, too

Let's strike up the band

For those Violets of Blue

For those buds I will look

As they peek through the snow

While I watch from atop my book

As those zero winds blow

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

Dear God - Bring the Springtime

We need something new!!!

~~~

Last we have a true Valentine love poem from Sandi. 

What is Love by Sandi

What is love...

where does it go...

Is it a vapor not unlike the snow,

Does it drift lazily down from the sky,

piling around us until it's quite high,

Does it make choices or caress all the same

and when things go wrong is it always to blame...

Is it like the seasons that blow hot and cold,

Does it laugh lustily at all those it's fooled,

The fragrance it leaves is dispelled by none,

It lingers long after the romance is done,

If given the chance, would you risk it again,

Treating it tenderly like an old friend...

Not taking it for granted, but being thankful each day,

That no matter how brief, it once came your way???!!

~~~

Indeed we can be thankful when love comes our way. Thanks, ladies, for sharing your talent with us. 

The contest is still open. You can see the prize (a heart-shaped necklace and winner's choice of one of my books) on my News and Events website page. You can enter by leaving a comment on a post here (with a way to contact you) by midnight EST on March 3, 2015. Thanks to all who have already entered and shared a poem too. You don't have to share a poem. That's just to add a little fun!

Poets and Writers

 "Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement." ...Christopher Fry

I'm not a poet, but the poem here is one of the very first things I had published many years ago. If I remember correctly, I was paid all of three dollars for these words, but seeing it on the pages of Home Life when I was in desperate need of encouragement was, as that commercial says, priceless. I wrote this poem while rocking my nephew who was around two at the time. I think he still feels proud of helping me launch my writing career all those years ago. I also had another poem accepted by a youth Sunday School magazine, but if it was ever published I didn't see a copy. It was about snowflakes. Funny the things a person remembers.

I was never a poet, but I did like playing with words when I started trying to get published. I could do little poetry rhymes in my head while I was doing other tasks - like rocking a baby to sleep. I joke now and say I used to write poems while I ironed. If I iron at all these days, it's on an as needed basis. Not long enough to compose poetry. I never really knew anything about poetry writing. I counted syllables and sounds. Not exactly a method that was going to launch me in the poetry world.

That's okay, because I like writing books. As soon as I wrote my first novel, I deserted the short articles and stories I'd been trying to write and plunged into the novel writing world. I've never looked back. No more poems. No more short stories. No more personal interest pieces. Of course I had to write three entire novels before that third one was published.

The reason I'm thinking about poetry today is that last night I went to a reception for writers, publishers and editors. Each attendee was supposed to put what they did on a blank line of their name tags. A lot of the people I met had poet written on their tags. I wonder if they were like me and hesitated writing that label. It took me years to be able to come right out and say I was a "writer." I had already written a lot of words by then. Maybe a poet knows in his or her soul that he or she is a poet and the claim comes easy. But I knew in my soul I was a writer before I was a teenager and yet the claim was not easy to voice.

You know what? If I still did those hours of ironing like I used to, I might be able to write a poem about that. A simple poem that rhymed, but what ryhmes with writer? Brighter. Fighter. Lighter. Biter. Triter. Uh-uh. I'd better quit while I'm ahead. Besides I need all my words and creative energy to write this new Shaker book and try to keep it from being trite. 

But here's another great quote for those of you who are poets. "Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." ...Leonard Cohen


How about it? Have you written any poetry? Have you ever wanted to write a poem?