Thursday, September 29, 2022
Happy Poetry Friday, everybody! Time to pile up the poetry like turtles lounging in the sun.
This meme ruined being able to say that I hope this post finds you well:
So let's just say I'm glad you found this post! Today we have a pussy-willow poem and a call for the holiday poetry swap, as well as the round-up.
by Margaret Widdemer
They call them pussy-willows,
But there’s no cat to see
Except the little furry toes
That stick out on the tree:
I think that very long ago,
When I was just born new,
There must have been whole pussy-cats
Where just the toes stick through---
And every Spring it worries me,
I cannot ever find
Those willow-cats that ran away
And left their toes behind!
It seems too early to be thinking about the holidays, but I didn't want let this chance to catch everyone pass me by! If you are interested in sending one poem and gift to a poetry friend, email me at tabathayeatts(at)gmail(dot)com. I will collect names until Halloween, and then in early November I'll send out swap info.