Self-Portrait

I’ve forgotten something over the past month: The Girl in the Orange is not a food blog.

Well, yes, mostly it is.  Food blogging is something  I really enjoy and I love having this blog as an outlet for all those crazy “blog posts” that ran through my head before I even had a blog.  But I’ve got three “interest” tabs at the top of this page for a reason.  If I really want to stay true to meall of me, then that means I have to include a little selection of my writing as well.

I feel quite vulnerable sharing my poetry on my blog, where it is potentially accessible to, um, pretty much everyone in the entire universe.  You guys have never really read any of my writing–well, you read the posts that I write, but I don’t consider them my “writing”, per se.  I also don’t think this is one of the best poems I’ve ever written, but those ones that I do consider my best, I usually send off somewhere and they get published and now I’m not quite sure whether I still technically own the rights to them or not.  Dilemma, dilemma.  But I wrote this poem on Friday, and I do think it’s…(hesitantly) good.  I edited a few lines to get rid of any potentially offensive content, so it’s not quite the original poem, but it’ll do.  Here ya go:

************

Self-Portrait

the girl who needs a lot of constants

wears red

orange

a shawl of dreams

sleeves woven from heartstrings

There are shadows in the creases of her brain

but her smile is genuine.

Not her belt.

She is a cowgirl who won’t wear leather anymore.

Her parents worry that she will grow away from them

this vegetarian string bean from cattle country,

accept that she is like a wildflower

staying rooted even as she tilts her face toward the sun.

Next, they fear

she will convert;

some obscure Antarctic religion

mentioned in one of those cookbooks of hers,

and live naked in the woods.

She laughs at that

like she laughed at the idea of vegetarianism

turning it into an easy whistle while mounting the pedals of her steel steed

knobby tires shattering golden remnants of exuberant leaves

7:02, the bike ride to school

the melding of nature and speed

orange confetti catching on the wind and marking her path

the fifth-best thing.

On she goes,

no ponytail to swish behind her now,

churning a poem in the spokes of her wheels,

toward the sun.

******************

And, just for fun, 😉 a poem I wrote in the fourth grade about finding the perfect specimen of an autumn leaf!

**************

The Perfect Leaf

It was a chilly Fall day

Some hanging Christmas wreaths

When I set out on my search

To find the perfect leaf

I stepped onto the ground–

crunch, crunch, under my feet–

That leaf was to be found!

I would not taste defeat!

I went through all the big ones

Didn’t miss a single small

But by the time I thought that I had

Sorted through them all

I looked down, picked it up–

ah, it was a beech–

yes, at last, at last, at last

I had found the perfect leaf.

*****************************

Charming, ain’t it? 😉

Happy Fall to all from The Girl in the Orange!!

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