I used to enter a lot of state poetry contests. These contests would often have a new form of poetry listed, with rules all its own. I enjoyed trying my hand at them but I did not always like the results. This poetry form is called: Lil-Anne.
THE PHONE CALL
She’d like to change the phone call’s sad event,
When the words heard, caused the sunshine to go.
She’d been enjoying the sweet yeasty scent
As she slowly kneaded the ball of dough.
Now, in pain, she
pummeled the dough
stopping only
to brush away tears.
The rest was done by routine long ingrained;
Rising dough, greased pans, loaves in the oven.
And it was the best bread she had made, but
She’d like to change the phone call’s sad event.
NOTE
Lil-Anne form … The ugliest poem I ever wrote.
