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Background image: "Chess" by Garry Knight

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Stuck inside with nothing to do.

Check the shelves for something new.

Don’t remember how to play.

We’ll make the rules along the way.

Pick a color, red or blue.

Throw the dice and you get two.

I go next and roll a four.

Move the disk and add three more.

Changing the rules as we see fit

Toss the board and now you’re it!

Kathleen Mazurowski

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Blurt!

Shout it out!

A tool with a long handle…
Rake? Shovel? Broom!

Let’s sweep this loud room.

Blurt!
Get it right!

To jump on one foot…
Skip? Jump? Hop!

We don’t want to stop.

Blurt!

What’s that word?

A smooth round object…
Ball? Glass? Pearl!

Come on! Give it a whirl!

Margaret Simon

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He caught the pass. A touchdown scored!

A cheering crowd rose to their feet.

Exciting game. Who could be bored?

He caught the pass. A touchdown scored!

A player once upon ignored

now gaining fame, however fleet.

He caught the pass. A touchdown scored!

A cheering crowd rose to their feet.

Cindy Breedlove

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GrandmaGrandmaGrandma

Let's play Go Fish.
I promise not to pout.
You mix up the cards
and I'll give them out.

The youngest goes first,
so here's my first wish.
Do you have a stingray?
Then tell me Go Fish.

Now you get a turn.
You want jellyfish? Eek!
You should know, Grandma,
the rule is, Don't Peek.

Okay, I believe you,
but don't take my bluefin
or herring or sailfish.
The rule is, I Win.

Sydney O'Neill

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Nice day for surfing, sky so blue.

Sunny and windswept.  We're pumped, too.

Down at the seashore.  Awesome view!

Wave sets are breaking.  Lots, a slew.

Fix leash, paddle out.  Here will do.

Wait for the big ones.  Catch a few.

Caught in a barrel.  Wow, we flew!

Surfing is rad, dude.  WOO, WOO, WOO!

Dianne Moritz, March, 2020

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game

fame

Cand-y

land

cards stray

come what may

young one cries

grandma tries

a fix

some tricks

to gain a smile

once in a while

Linda Baie ©

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Let’s play a game of hide and seek
My best friend said to me
Then off she ran as there I sat
Leaned up against a tree
I counted up to ten and yelled
Get ready here I come
But then I went inside the house-
This game seemed quite ho hum
I watched some TV- ate a snack
And read my favorite book
When I got bored I went outside
Perhaps I’ll take a look
As I went out her mom pulled up-
C’mon it’s time to go
Our game was done- our friendship too
I guess I was too slow

Janie Lazo 2020 - All rights reserved

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A kick-the-can newbie,
Do you want to play?

I was expert in the rules of invisibility—
No, thanks. I’ll watch.

spending my childhood
behind an imaginary camera,
No, really. I like to watch.

clicking each awkward moment,
capturing each missed opportunity—

trophies inside my glass case.

© 2020 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

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By Dianne Moritz

In the days of innocence and Eisenhower,

most girls would play their games of hopscotch.

Jay-walking to a vacant lot across the street,

we’d kick away debris and bits of broken glass,

scratch out our game-boards

on rough cement with pieces

of chalk snitched from school.

Like kangaroos, we’d hop, hop, hop, jump, hop

turn around, till sweat dripped down our rosy cheeks,

and our lips craved ice-cold cherry Cokes, grape

popsicles from Sweeny’s drugstore down the block.

We’d skip off laughing, hand

in hand, stepping over wide

cracks, sparing our mothers’ backs,

Carefree, happy, high on life.

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Button on the Stairs

Button on the Stairs

Who wants to play a game?

Button on the Stairs.

Sit on the

bottom step

one, two, three

A standing player
holds a button

nobody sees.

Behind Stander’s back

left hand to right

a button travels

hand to hand

before it hides.

Button on the Stairs

Button on the Stairs

Who wants to play a game?

Button on the Stairs.

Next, a standing player

holds out both fists

button is hidden

player one

take a risk.

(Linda Mitchell)

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Treasure hunts begun…

Each part shares a clue

One team goal to slew–

Tick tock away clock…

Sleuthing layers

Prodding players

Concentrating

Calculating

Getting closer

Almost there

Fireworks flashing

Zinging

Ringing

Singing

Woo hoo

Mystery

Solved

For me

And

You!

© 2020 Michelle Kogan

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We’re drawing a swirly path with markers,
Twisting from side to side,
Zigzagging and squirmy as wiggly worms,
Then we write things to do inside.

Let’s put a shortcut through the woods -
We can make a trail through some trees,
And maybe a bridge to try to cross
With a square that says “Go back one, please”.

We’ll need some numbers on ten cards
For the spaces to count and hop;
Then we’ll draw game pieces for everyone
For marking the spot where they stop.

There could be a troll... no, make one a wolf!
There should be a princess fairy!
Maybe an elf, a robot or dog
or a DRAGON...ooh, so scary!

This game’s going to be the best thing ever!
When it’s done we’ll sit down to play it.
What time is it? Huh? It’s time for bed?
Ugh! I guess we’ll have to delay it!

By Donna JT Smith, 3/15/2020

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mommy's there
in front of me
then disappears
where she be?

PEEK-A-BOO!
mommy's back
big bright smile
bubbly laugh

©2020, Bridget Magee. All Rights Reserved.

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Nod, nod
Wink, wink
Nudge, nudge
Giggle, giggle
Squeeze tight,
Kisses light.
When the game of love
Is right.

by Angelique Pacheco (c) 2020

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by David McMullin

If I were small, so very small

that stones were big and grass was tall,

I’d have the pill bug stop its crawl

to be my tiny basketball.

And we'd have fun, Oh, So much fun.

I’d toss him up. He’d roll, I’d run.

But when we saw the setting sun,

He’d crawl away - our game all done.

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Monday through Friday evenings

We listen to Alex Trebek

The host of our favorite game show

Which challenges our intellect

So many facts and subjects

Information you’d never expect

From our couch we call out the answers

Sometimes we get them correct

© 2020 Mindy Gars Dolandis

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A backyard game of storytelling

A circle of improvisation

The prior rascal would dub you

And pose your situation

I had to tell a hapless tale

Of three in a single grave

My story, however, barely began

when…

“I beg your pardon,

Mrs. Hoity McToity,

(dramatic emphasis for effect)

but you definitely did NOT

dig that poor man’s grave!

You have a bad back!”

Giggles, clapping.  Good one!

“I certainly did dig it, “

I said, “My back’s recovering,

and I’ll show you the very fingernail

I ripped while I was shoveling!”

Touché.

Players aged 6 to 60

Each in the family line

Uncle Carl knew the rules and

Kept it all benign

A few bats fluttered overhead

Invention glowed like stars

And gangly legs tipped too far back

In $5 plastic chairs

The six-year-old had

pulled her knees

Up underneath her shirt,

And imagined magical sea unicorns…

“I beg to differ!

There is no such thing!”

Her older sibling

ventured a zing.

Immediately she countered:

“Of course it was a narwhal,

(said in a tone meant to warn)

but I prefer to call it

a magical sea unicorn.”

Jaws dropping open…

HOOTING & HOWLING!

There must have been dragons

And giants with warts

Travelers fresh out of luck

Carpetbags brimming with treasures

Chickens refusing to cluck

I know there were smiles

Wider than faces

And groans with mouths

gaping wide

That our eyes shone bright

in the moonlight

That our laughter

caused aches in our sides

to me it was

a singular time…

To me it was a wonder…

more luminous far

than shooting stars…

And beyond that?

Maybe…

Thunder!!!

© Karen Eastlund

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Dash from the shore!

Dash up the ladder!

Stand tough as a bear

in the raft-stomping chatter.

The goal? To stay put

so plant your feet wide

or someone will dump you

over the side.

Kids tug and they push

scramble and crash

fly overboard,

in a wave-warping splash.

If you’re quick you can win,

but it’s fun just to play

and who knows? You might

rule the raft for the day.

© Janice Scully 2020

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on saturday

gray gulls float in shifting arabesques over water silk

a firm hand finishes the lighthouse sign post

my father ferries hot cups to the table

everyone sips, taps a wayward piece into place, finishing "Shore"

©2020JanGodownAnnino,allrightsreserved

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Its rely is a mystery the crafter writers foe
for writers pen in hand blank of the eye
were oh where does pen hide
for the sower,
it is simply needed string line disappear
as a stitch on stitch it reappears
that dropped bobbin
disappear hence the game of hiding seeking
as to the clue my ear here Mellows
my corner eye sees
a dart and dash towards the table and couch
then the game is over
for beneath table and couch
all my pens and bobbin's
silly - silly kitty she thought
that they for mice

poem By Jessica Bigi

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red-tailed hawk
to the gray squirrel
tag - you're it

©Robyn Hood Black

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Under the palms and banana leaves

along the winding trails,

I ran ahead of my mom and dad

and found myself alone.

On my own in the giant world,

I chose which way to go.

I crossed the swaying wooden bridge,

I passed the waterfall,

I smelled the lemony golden elves,

I petted the pompom tree,

and when I felt I’d been gone too long,

I turned myself around.

Spying my parents along the path,

I skipped away again,

playing the game of getting lost

within the greenhouse walls.

Elizabeth Steinglass

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As twilight stretches shadows across the lawn,
we each claim a ‘grave’ on the porch.
A rectangle place of safety,
when we flee from the ghost.

Face down, eyes closed, we count.
Peeking at each other,
to ensure no one peeks.
Then, ready or not, we’re off.

In the reverse of ‘hide-n-seek,’
the concealed ghost is “it.”
Jumping at spooky shadows,
we creep about the yard.

Nerves on edge, squinting in the dark,
we tiptoe through the gravel -
ever closer to the spooky barn.
Until I spy a silhouette.

“Ghost in the Graveyard,” I scream,
fleeing for the porch.
Desperate to get to my safe grave.
Alas – a touch – “I’m it.”

© Maria Marshall, 2020

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To all you Phony Physicians,

I think that it's appalling how you've taken up with calling

yourselves "Doctor" when it's clear that my condition's not severe.

I don't have water on my knees

My brain is not about to freeze

My ankle's fine, my hip's not sore

what the heck's that wishbone for?

A butterfly? A slice of bread?

Are you just messing with my head?

I wish you all would leave me be -- stop placing parts inside of me.

I'm well and able, fully stable.

Step back!

and put the tweezers on the table.

Signed,

Cavity Sam

(BY Lynn Vieira)

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Remember that time
when we played
long distance cribbage?

You, in California,
me, in Colorado.
We sent cards

back and forth
in the mail.
I can't recall

how to play,
not to mention
how or why

we chose this
absurdly random method
for staying connected.

Maybe that's it --
the big takeaway:
against all odds,

connect.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

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I once found a rabbit

took him home,

became mine.

He taught me this game.

With curious delight, I watch

mesmerized . . .

On his runner he runs. STOP.

Then into the air he springs, flips around and dashes back.

STOP.

Once again, into the air, he springs, flips around and then back.

STOP. Looking my way, he expectantly waits . . .

my turn

I ready-set-go…………

Lap after lap, we dash and we dash,

roaring with laughter

Today I still marvel― tears cares and fears,

‘magically’ sprinted away

playing his game

© Cory Corrado (2020)

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Pin the Tail on the Donkey

time.

Wobbly knees

and sweaty hands,

I step right up

stare straight ahead.

How far up?

How far down

is his behind?

I plan and plot

how to hit that spot.

Blindfold on

I’m spun around.

One step, two steps

reaching out,

feeling confident

I take my shot.

Yes?? Oh,

Hooray!

It’s Musical Chairs time!

Sandie Vaisnoras, 2020

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Remembering a Childhood Game by Carol Varsalona

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Remembering a Childhood Game by Carol Varsalona

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On a clear summer night

before stars fill the sky,

a little teacher gathers

one flat stone. Why?

"Come, children, please

sit on the steps. Guess

which hand has a stone

before our first recess."

Giggles float through

the summer breeze.

"Stone teacher,

pick me please."

Students guess

one by one

hoping to have

some summer fun.

Winner takes all,

stones and fame-

becomes the next

teacher of the game.

©CV, 2020

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Digging deep into my childhood, I found a fond memory that I had forgotten. My early elementary grade years were filled with game playing. Those were the days when my friends and I used our imagination to create playful times. "Stone Teacher" was one of our favorite outside summer pastimes.

one flat stone. Why?

Each year since Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge. Slicing allows me to ponder life, literacy, and learning, capturing small moments poetically through writing, photography, and digital art. Welcome to Day 27 of 31 days of writing with March 2015 , I have engaged in Two Writing Teacher's Two Writing Teachers .
SPECIAL POETRY MONTH INVITATION:
I am planning a kickoff to National Poetry Month celebration on April 6, 2020 #NYEDChat Twitter chat from 8-8:30pmEST. It is a fast chat with 3 questions and 1 Reflaction (reflection with action steps). If you are interested in being 1 of 4 poets to guest moderate with me, please let me know as soon as possible. The topic, Poetry Nurtures the Soul, may be one that brings a ray of sunshine during trying times.

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Digging deep into my childhood, I found a fond memory that I had forgotten. My early elementary grade years were filled with game playing. Those were the days when my friends and I used our imagination to create playful times. "Stone Teacher" was one of our favorite outside summer pastimes.

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One deck of cards
one me, one you
can chase away the blues.

Shuffle, shuffle
four cards each,
Time for the big reveal.

I’ve got Jane Austen.
Here's Shakespeare. Tennyson
and Hawthorne, too.

In your hand you hold
Dickens, Balzac, Alcott,
and your favorite, Sir Walter Scott.

Back and forth,
we trade our cards
and slowly build our sets.

The last card is drawn.
Again, you’ve won.
Play once more? You bet!

© Catherine Flynn, 2020

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Place your players on the board
And race to use your special skill,
Never knowing when the
Deck of cards will start an
Epidemic. Work together to
Mitigate outbreaks of
Infection until you find four
Cures to win the game.

Kay Jernigan McGriff