Poetry Prompt: Back to Pooh Corner

A.A. Milne, 1922 (Library of Congress, Public Domain)

A.A. Milne, c. 1922 (Library of Congress, Public Domain)

Hello, Wordsmith Studio Poets, and welcome to the first Poetry Prompt!

Today would have been A.A. Milne’s 131st birthday. While we probably can’t imagine Mr. Milne living to such an age, it’s easier to say that his legacy will live on through fond memories of that famous bear of the Hundred Acre Wood, Winnie-the-Pooh. In The House at Pooh Corner, Milne wrote: “Promise you won’t forget me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.” And so, at the 131st anniversary of his coming to us, let’s keep that promise to Mr. Milne with a Remembrance Poem.

A remembrance poem could take many forms. You might share your favorite childhood memory. You might ask, in the poem, that people remember you. You might write the poem in remembrance to a loved one who has passed on, or to the legacy of a friendship you will always cherish. As long as you are dealing with memory/remembrance, feel free to take your poem in whatever direction you choose!

How to Share Your Response

Here’s how you can share your response with the Wordsmith Studio Community:

1. Write a poem in response to the prompt

2. Share your poem on your blog

3. Link to your poem in a comment on this post

Once the poems start rolling in, we’ll embark on a Pooh-like adventure, blog hopping to see and share each other’s remembrances! If you would prefer, feel free to share your poem in a comment below; just be sure to visit the other poems and spread the love!

24 comments for “Poetry Prompt: Back to Pooh Corner

  1. January 18, 2013 at 7:52 pm

    Here’s my attempt:

    Teddy

    You used to tip your hat
    and say how the simple life was enough,
    that butter on bread was enough,
    and a cool cup of water
    from a washed out tin can.

    You’d crack open a jar of peaches and serve them
    on oversized leaves you’d found–you’d say–
    on one of your many adventures,
    and when we’d ask how far you had to go,
    how deep into some mangled forest grove
    you trekked, to find them,
    you only said, “Enough.”

    So when we began to forget you–
    when you sat, head down, on to that top shelf
    for so many years, untouched–
    you smiled to yourself on the day we remembered,
    when we took you down and passed you
    hand to hand and chest to chest,
    murmuring “Remember when” to each other
    in the midday dust and creeping light,

    you smiled into yourself,
    felt the fading arms drift into twilight,
    and murmured, to no one in particular,
    “Enough now. Enough.”

    • Sabra Bowers
      January 20, 2013 at 5:44 pm

      Beautiful. Makes me want to know Teddy.

    • January 21, 2013 at 11:27 am

      I love the sentiment in this… the memories of a much beloved stuffed bear. I’ve still got one of mine!

    • January 19, 2013 at 1:12 pm

      Rustled – A Remembrance Poem

      Rustled

      You told me
      Child of three
      under the
      Chestnut tree
      Tiny flowers floating
      fragrant in our hair

      You told me

      As I lied against you
      My hand holding your finger
      On our backs watching
      As millions of leaves
      Rustled in summer wind

      You told me

      That sometime when
      You were gone
      I could find you
      In the wind
      Always
      and forever

      You told me

      Never
      to
      forget

      Ever

      You told me
      You tell me

      Still in the
      whisper of the wind

      • Sabra Bowers
        January 20, 2013 at 5:48 pm

        Ah, I can feel the summer breeze and the warmth of the hand and finger.

      • January 21, 2013 at 11:29 am

        Wow, how mesmerizing to hear those whispers of loved one’s upon the breeze! Thanks for participating!

  2. January 18, 2013 at 10:02 pm

    Wonderful prompt – so many images are floating about – was able to catch a few in this try.
    Thank you Khara – Enjoyed the flow and sweetness of yours 🙂

  3. January 19, 2013 at 11:09 am

    gnarled hands pealed diced
    potatoes onions water
    paprika flour rice

    prepared and ladled
    nana’s soup warmed my tummy
    remembering love

    • January 19, 2013 at 12:38 pm

      Laura, the warmth flows out from this double-haiku (and I feel like I can almost smell/taste that soup)!

      I love how touch runs through all these so far; it’s as though the subjects of the poems have not only touched us, but they–and the poems–allow us to reach out and connect to each other!

      • January 19, 2013 at 1:17 pm

        Laura , agree with Khara ! There is so much love flowing from the page 🙂

    • Sabra Bowers
      January 20, 2013 at 5:50 pm

      Nana’s soup spells love. I too can smell it cooking.

    • January 21, 2013 at 11:33 am

      There is nothing like the warmth and love that we feel from a home cooked meal… especially from a Nana! Thank you so much for participating!

  4. January 20, 2013 at 5:22 pm

    Here’s my take on the prompt! I hope you guys enjoy it!

    http://www.crazypoeticlife.com/2013/01/for-now.html

  5. Sabra Bowers
    January 20, 2013 at 5:59 pm

    Mine isn’t really a poem, but it is what I’m remembering.

    All the men I’ve lived with are gone.
    Father Brother Husband

    And all were
    father-brother-husband

    • January 20, 2013 at 7:23 pm

      Thanks for sharing, Sabra! It reads almost like a refrain in a jazz/blues/spiritual poem. Even by itself it rings with memory.

      • Sabra Bowers
        January 23, 2013 at 4:44 pm

        Thank you, Khara. refrain in a jazz/blues/spiritual poem I’m embracing that!

    • January 21, 2013 at 11:35 am

      It’s so straightforward and I can feel your loss just within these few lines. Thank you Sabra for joining us!

      • Sabra Bowers
        January 23, 2013 at 4:47 pm

        Thank you, Dana. Sometimes I deeply miss male energy.

    • January 23, 2013 at 2:05 am

      Oh, Sabra, this is so nice and touching! Feeling for you, friend!

      • Sabra Bowers
        January 23, 2013 at 4:49 pm

        Thank you, Mariya. Glad it touched you and communicated my feeling of loss. I wasn’t sure it would.

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