An Etheree About Writing An Etheree


sit and

I ponder

What it means to

Compose an Etheree

This form is new to me

I hope that I can succeed

In writing a poem that’s decent

To truly make this poem a success

I need to put ten beats in the last line.


I was inspired to write this when I saw an etheree on one of the blogs that I follow.  Mike’s is much better than mine though.  If you want to check out his etheree, go here

Thorson Thorkelson The Thord – Part 35

Despite her sorrow at having to go home and say good-bye to Thord, Bertha couldn’t help but smile as she thought back on the things that she and Thord had done together.

One Saturday morning, when she had been able to spend the weekend at the Thorkelson house, she came down to breakfast to find Thorson waiting for her with his goofy, lopsided grin lighting up his face.  Before she could ask what he was up to, he said,

“I have an idea for a really fun time
whatever we say, we say it in rhyme.”

She hadn’t been sure of his idea, but had decided to give it a try.  At first, they both found it challenging, but before long, they both got into the spirit of things.  It helped that Thorson’s mom and dad joined in on the fun.

At lunch time, Thorson took Bertha out to McDonald’s.  She wasn’t sure if the game applied to public settings, so she let Thorson order first.  He walked up to the counter and said,

“Dear sir, I confess I do wish
to sample your Filet O’Fish.
I tell you no lies
when I request your large fries.
And in case I start to choke
please pour me a large cup of Coke.”

The guy behind the cash register looked at Thorson as if he was crazy, so Thorson just grinned at the employee.

After he had placed his order, Bertha had gone up the the counter and said,

You may think my boyfriend is a crack,
but please excuse the dear.
I would like a Big Mac
and a tall cold glass of root beer.
And don’t let it be a surprise,
that I also would like a large fries.

They had hardly been able to eat because they’d been laughing so hard.

Of course, one of the highlights of the day had been at supper, when Thorson’s dad spouted off a petrarchan sonnet because he wanted something passed

‘Tis still a bit of space left on my plate
Upon which I could place a bit of food
I see this void and think it rather crude
For I will still be hungry when it’s late
I look around this table at you all
And see that you have something that I lack
I feel that I have fallen through a crack
There’s such a very long long way to fall
There is a solution that I perceive
If you’ll indulge me for a little bit
Excitement fills me from my head to toes
Just bend your ear and soon you will believe
If you but listen to my stellar wit
Would you please pass me the mashed potatoes?

Bertha didn’t notice how much the memory of that wonderful day was affecting her until the stewardess tapped her on the shoulder.  “Miss, are you alright?”

That’s when Bertha realized that her shoulders were shaking from a combination of her tears of sadness and her laughter.  She looked up at the stewardess, smiled, and said, “Thanks.  I think I’ll be alright.”  As the stewardess walked away, Bertha whispered under her breath, “as we fly on this flight.”