|Oh, I love Christmas tree decorations.|
If you make it to the end, I have a note.
Here's my entry:
'Twas the Flight Before Christmas
By Stacy S. Jensen
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the space
I pack, check and fret as we ready to fly to Grandma’s place.
Did I complete the things on my long, long list?
Mail cards. Wrap gifts … I fear something is missed.
I double check each bag as Hubby carries them to the car.
Then I see Henry, our toddler, through the door ajar.
I shoo him away and consider all the things we’ll need,
As other moms gave kid travel advice for me to heed.
As visions of spit ups and diaper blowouts float through my head,
Henry grabs a carry-on bag with clothes and books to be read.
I think of Hubby as I pack one with pants and size 15 shoes,
So he has clothes, if the airline chooses his checked bag to lose.
With luggage ready to go, I carry Henry to bed.
He refuses to go night-night and his PJs are shed.
Hubby arrives to re-dress and rock Henry to sleep.
Minutes later exhausted Hubby and I fall in a big heap.
The trip to the airport was quick for an early Christmas flight.
At security, we put our stuff in trays as Henry clings tight.
He doesn’t like the buzzers and noises at the screening station.
TSA officers pat us down and send us to our gate location.
Hubby taps his watch pointing out our three-hour wait.
I smile unfazed by the time, as I hate being late.
Henry stares at a soldier and a girl’s neon tights.
He wanders over to the windows to check out the sights.
Hubby runs over to buy bottled water from an airport store.
As I guard Henry, a stroller, a car seat and bags galore.
When the announcement is made for an early boarding call,
We leap up with a cheer to line up against the wall.
At the plane’s door with Hubby, attendants and me right there,
Henry walks across the threshold hugging his brown bear.
I scoop him up in the narrow aisle, so I can quickly find our seat.
We stow bags above our head and stuff Henry’s things at our feet.
All buckled in tight with trays upright, it becomes clear,
Hubby has second thoughts and doesn’t want to be here.
Ah, this is what I forgot: Hubby doesn’t like to fly
I pat his leg and silently pray nothing goes awry.
Our plane takes off with us crammed in seats 26B and C,
When Hubby sees Santa by the window with a list on his knee.
Santa laughs with a twinkle in his eye and adjusts his light.
“No worries,” he says. “We’ll fly away and have a good flight.”
So, here's my note:
On Sunday, the local Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators group had a critique and holiday gathering. I took a version of this entry with brownies. I received kind feedback. The main one: Get the rhythm to match the original 'Twas the Night Before Christmas poem.
I pulled out my Poem Making: Ways to Begin Writing Poetry book and found a specific reference to the meter — the anapest, which has a rising foot. The dust jacket says the book is for ages 9-13. I believe the book is in Greek, because I can't understand it. I'm stuck on how to fix the meter.
I changed my point of view, names and cleaned up a few lines. Thanks ladies at the Colorado Springs SCWBI meeting for the input, especially Debbie.
So, I ask: What's a good resource to study meter? I need an aha meter moment.
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