Under an indigo star-flung sky,
furtive paws pad softly
across the forest floor.
At Real Toads today, de Jackson has offered us a list of ink-stained words as a prompt. We can use one or all of them. I picked my favorite word since I was eight years old: paw. I remember the teacher saying it, and how I fell in love with it and reveled in it as I wrote it down. In those days, we had inkwells and straight pens, which would be an exercise in disaster with today's squirmy kids. I remember practicing the Macleans method of handwriting, whole lines of OOOOOOOOOO's all linked together. Blotters. Ink-stains, Puddles and holes in the paper from the pen's sharp nib. The relief when we were switched to ball point pens!
Incredibly lovely to know another woman who remembers inkwells and straight pens. Yep, I sure do.
ReplyDeletePS .. Paw is a neat word!
But I bet you have magnificent handwriting! I love your paw poem. I also love paws, and the creatures attached to them.
ReplyDeleteAwe, this is really a neat thought, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteI remember being the 'ink monitor' long ago - had to fill the wells on all the desks with this strange stuff made from powdered ink and dispensed in one of those two-tube bottles used for topping up car batteries.
ReplyDeleteAlways got my paws inkstained.
Oh, I remember learning to write with pen and ink. All the desks had "inkwells" and having "a good hand" meant writing ultra-legibly.
ReplyDeleteLove your poem, Sherry. I love paws, too...puppy paws, puddy paws, itty bitty baby feet...
Luv, K
Beautiful poem . . . gave me pause (someone had to do it).
ReplyDeleteI remember huge thick pencils and crayons, but no inkwells. I knew the inkwell/braids joke, so I must have seen them somewhere.
there'ssomethingamazingaboutthewordpawisn'tthere, especiallyinyoureloquenttongue
ReplyDeletesorry, I'm not sure what happened to the spaces ;)
ReplyDeleteLovely!
ReplyDeleteI often think of writing as leaving my paw prints behind in the snow of paper. Well done my friend,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/
What's sweeter than an animal offering you his paw. A wonderful word, Sherry and I love that you have loved it since you were a girl. Lovely write on one of your favorite animals.
ReplyDeleteWe started our writing with large, pencils made for young children to hold easily with their little fingers. I remember countless lines of all the letters. Thank goodness we didn't have the added stress of writing with ink!
I love the image of indigo star-flung sky ~ I recall those days of ink and and elegant penmanship ~
ReplyDeleteHave a good week ~
I love this, Sherry...so poignant of an image under that indigo star flung sky that is so expansive you bring us in to the personal space of this soft padding...beautiful. I enjoy so much your reflection on your ink well days, Sherry! :)
ReplyDeleteawwwwww.
ReplyDeleteOh, you awakened memories. I remember the wooden desks, the nuns insisting on good penmanship, and yes the relief from the ball point pen.
ReplyDeleteI think it's amazing that your favorite word was paw, considering how much you love animals.
A beautiful image in your words Sherry!
ReplyDeleteLOL.... Goodness, I remember ink wells in the desk, straight wooden pens with nibs and blotting paper.
ReplyDeleteBlimey, do I feel old now.
Love you word paw too...:)
I love this short image with paws padding across the forest floor under the indigo sky. I don't think they would let us near ink in any form when I was learning to write--pencils were it. Liquid ink pens seemed very special and grown up.
ReplyDeletefurtive... another intriguing word!
ReplyDeleteGosh Sherry--I had a fountain pen, (and was thrilled when in later years they made cartridges for them) but I always wondered what those holes in the wooden desks were for--inkwells, they said. Paw is perfect for your favorite word.
ReplyDeleteLove the poem...reminds me of all the time my father taught about different animals paw prints. I remember those ink days...I was so messy.
ReplyDeleteOh I love it, Sherry! The sound is such a delight to read. And the poem is seemingly simple and short, so one can spend more time unwrapping the layers and envisioning these few lines coming to life.
ReplyDeleteIf he is padding softly, he is probably trying to be quiet in order to catch his unsuspecting prey. A real wolf, or a metaphor? So many possibilities. I love it.
We had to write copper plate. I still do sometimes and rather like it. Keeping my hand in, so to speak I suppose:-)
ReplyDeleteI wrote my whole novel by hand and still have the cramp from 23 days non-stop writing last month.
Now you have me saying paws paws pause pause....
Sherry, I ADORE ink, the word paw, and this poem...especially when the words "indigo" and "star-flung" bump up against each other. Yummy. :)
ReplyDeletede
whimsygizmo.wordpress.com