A Poem about My Mother

Today’s poem was inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt at http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five/ . This is a clerihew, a humorous four-line poem about someone. May my poor dear mother rest in peace.


My mother’s name was Joan.

She loved to talk on the phone.

We kids often thought she was mean.

“Not now,” she’d say. “I’m talking to Norleen.”


Now, I double dare you, my readers, to write one of these. Even if you don’t think you’re a poet, you should be able to do this. Think of someone you know whose name is easy to rhyme. Your first line should have that person’s name at the end. Your second line rhymes with your first line. Write your last two lines with a different rhyme. According to the article at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clerihew , the meter doesn’t have to be precise. Have fun with this, and feel free to leave your results in the comment field. Thank goodness my name isn’t easy to rhyme.


Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author


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Author: abbiejohnsontaylor

I'm the author of two novels,, two poetry collections, and a memoir with another novel on the way. My work has appeared in various journals and anthologies. I'm visually impaired and live in Sheridan, Wyoming, where for six years, I cared for my totally blind late husband who was paralyzed by two strokes. Please visit my website at http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com.

2 thoughts on “A Poem about My Mother”

  1. My First Clerihew–for Abbie Oh, yes! I know that poet named Abbie. No, she did not want that little, lost tabby. Her pets are her books– no room for kitties in Abbie’s corners and nooks!

    (Just could not resist having fun with a clerihew! Alice)


    1. I don’t blame you for having fun. I love it except for the fact that I don’t have room for a tabby. I do, and if I could enjoy the company of one without having to feed, and pick up after it and worry about it clawing the furniture, I would get one in a heartbeat.


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