WRITE A RIDDLE POEM

You are to write a riddle poem in the same syle as ³A Narrow Fellow in the Grass´ by Emily Dickinson. Follow the direction below.

1. First, read the poem. A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,--did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb, A spotted shaft is seen; And then it closes at your feet And opens further on. He likes a boggy acre, A floor too cool for corn. Yet when a child, and barefoot, I more than once, at morn, Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash Unbraiding in the sun,-When, stooping to secure it, It wrinkled, and was gone. Several of nature's people I know, and they know me; I feel for them a transport Of cordiality; But never met this fellow, Attended or alone, Without a tighter breathing, And zero at the bone. Did you get it? Do you know what the ³narrow fellow´ is? (If you don¶t, I¶m not going to tell you here.)

2. Next, come up with your object. It should be something commonplace that everyone knows, but should be interesting enough that you will be able to disguise what it is. A student in a previous year chose to write about a mirror. Her choice was perfect²we are all familiar with what a mirror is and what it does, but it lends itself to unlimited possibilities when you are describing it. 3. Write a poem. Use Dickinson¶s as a model, if you like. This poem should be a little on the long side (Dickinson¶s is 24 lines), because you want to be sure to give your reader enough information to figure out what you are writing about. 4. Post it on your blog. Don¶t give the answer away, of course! Then, go to your friends¶ blogs. Read their poems and try to figure out what they are writing about. Make comments on their blogs and include your guesses.

Need more examples? I Like to See it Lap the miles Emily Dickinson I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains, And, supercilious, peer In shanties by the sides of roads; And then a quarry pare To fit its sides, and crawl between, Complaining all the while In horrid, hooting stanza; Then chase itself down hill And neigh like Boanerges; Then, punctual as a star, Stop - docile and omnipotent At its own stable door. One Guess By Robert Frost

He has dust in his eyes and a fan for a wing, A leg akimbo with which he can sing, And a mouthful of dy stuff instead of sting.

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