A fight stubbornly persists between Some
who try to lay claim to what rainbows say;
That they are a promise from God for the
People, and gays can’t exist in That world.
But we do – I’m afraid we always will;
you can’t keep some “out” from Life in the end.
Though some labor vainly to pick who’s in
and coldy soak with shame our hearts of fire,
I’ve come to believe that All not Just Some
will one day hear a welcoming voice say,
“All of you there, gay or straight, come on in;
I’ve just prepared vodka and tonics with ice.“
You gasp as you read such sacrilege From
one whose old life was made only of what
pleased you (and – hey look! – pleased your God!) But I’ve
picked from All Fruit – then changed as I tasted.
I can’t expect you to bestow all of
your blessing onto things of my desire,
but really, it isn’t your blessing I
covet as mine – to take from you and hold.
See, what I have I am now content with.
Hope that I might still count you among those
with hearts so warm and thinly fragile, who
might break and let us into your favour.
Short of that, we will warm ’round rainbow fire.
This is an example of a “Golden Shovel” poem (thanks, Carla!). The last word of each line read top to bottom are from the first section of Robert Frost’s well-known poem, “Fire and Ice”. Then I wrote lines of 10 syllables each to write my own poem with the last word already in place. I chose quatrains and a single line “stinger” at the end, but you could use and meter and section however you wanted.
Lots of fun!
defying atrophy 