The March of the Pens
The March of the Pens–I was talking to a friend recently about how sometimes we have more pens than we know what to do with and other times not a pen can be found. This led me to speculate about where the pens go when they disappear. In turn, this made me think of that lovely movie, The March of the Penguins. Which led me to imagine all the pens marching off–to reproduce? I didn’t actually picture that.
It’s Poetry Friday!
But it did inspire me to write this poem for Poetry Friday–that wonderful blog hop! I also created the silly sketch you see here. This week, TeacherDance sponsors this fun and festive event! Thanks!
My poem of the week–the March of the Pens–
Susan Bruck
Not time nor moon phase can predict
The marching orders of my Bics.
Reach for a pen—I can’t find one
I had a hundred just this morn.
Off they’ve marched, perhaps to the pole
To meet their fellows on the shoal.
If I go out to buy new pens
I know that they’ll just call their friends.
Because in a day or maybe more
They all come back where they were before.
So I have more pens than I need–
Likeweeds I pulled that soon reseed.
There’s one more thing that I suspect
When pens march off on their mystery trek
They take along as guides or cops
An odd assemblage of socks.
And the missing socks tag along
I didn’t mention the missing socks earlier–I saved that as a surprise for you. Hopefully, I’ll remember this image next time I can’t find a pen or can only find one sock. It beats frustration (or worse!).
Now that I’ve gotten rid of some stuff, maybe I won’t have trouble finding pens. Here’s a post about the joy and struggle of letting go–
Finding the angel in the marble
And as always, thanks for stopping by.
xoxo
Love that afterthought that the socks tag along, too, Susan, and “I had a hundred just this morn.” Fun to read about this truth. My problem is that I cannot find the ‘right’ pen. Thanks for being here on Poetry Friday!
That happens to me, too–not finding the pens I want. And I’m really enjoying Poetry Friday!
Oh my, so that’s what happens to all my pens! I enjoyed the surprise of the socks at the end too.
Thanks–poems beat swearing–at least most of the time
Oh, that last stanza made me smile. Great fun in this poem!
There’s one more thing that I suspect
When pens march off on their mystery trek
They take along as guides or cops
An odd assemblage of socks.
Thanks!
Ha–your final stanza made me smile!
Thanks–I’m glad. We can all use another smile!
I was always wondering where my forlorn socks went off to, now I know–fun ending to this whimsical poem Susan, I might have to have a talk with my pens.
Thanks–Just don’t tell them that I told you!
Cute imagery, Susan! Thanks for taking something potentially annoying and making it fun : -)
You’re welcome–it helps to laugh–when possible
Ha! Such a clever poem and one I can certainly relate to. I really enjoy how you linked it up to the mystery of missing socks. My husband worked ER Psych and had a patient once who was convinced that leprechauns were coming out of his toilet to steal his socks. I think your explanation is just as likely!