There are 10 written responses to this assignment.
On the seventh day of the eleventh month
He rekindled the ember
and started to remember
why he loved November
Up before 7, in bed by 11,
My parents are loud in the morning.
Just one more day left, then we’re off to the west,
Or perhaps leave today without warning.
My muse comes lately
sleep may come near seven
only after eleven.
By 7 every morning, I have fed chickens, turkeys and pigs
My cheery good morning greeted with crowing, gobbling and grunting
We dance together in the rays of the sun splashing over the barn and across the yard
Other days we shake ourselves, splattering off the rain drops that spill from the skies
Then, I leave them to their morning and I tend to mine
At 11 I return, dogs in tow, a quick check in that gets me away from screen
And reminds them that we are in this together
When I was a Brown girl of eleven,
I ran wild as barley
on the red horse named Lance.
And I had seven dreams:
First of childish love, first heaven;
Then like any teen, I dreamed
I would some day feel a Harley
hot as a horse between my thighs.
I dreamed as a young woman
I’d live a life of chance,
that every thing would always be
exactly what it seems.
In middle years, I dreamed I’d live
in the gentle refuge wetlands,
there where the Black Curlew cries.
And now in silver golden years
I dream a life of the mind.
And then I dream a day as fair
As this day, soft as horses,
and as kind.
There was a young lady from Devon,
Who took away six from eleven,
The answer was four,
But it should have been more,
So she ran off and jumped in the Severn.
Five decades of failed big time schemes
O’Malley tried them all it seems.
Card counting, horses, bean farms in Dakota,
Waterfront property in desert Arizona.
Courting biddies for lotteries they won,
Missing the news while selling stock in Enron.
Now though it seemed he’d give big thanks,
Weak months fleecing tourists in Fairbanks.
Cousin Roy never said much beyond cold stare,
His bitter life handling baggage at O’Hare.
His security meeting held last Thursday
Hinted on what was coming Alaska way.
The feds were closing on Tommy Moran
A stash of cash going to his gal in Japan.
Roy pieced it together from word on the street
A non-descript bag was flying out this week.
Someone in Fairbanks without much hassle,
Might wander off with the bag with a pink tassel.
It was so smooth it made O’Malley laugh,
Disguised as one of the United baggage staff.
In the corridor his life played out all dreamy,
Caribbean sun, a daily martini.
All those mis-played attempts were dim
Cause on this flight his bag was coming in.
Roy had texted, the bag had been loaded,
But nothing was here, had it again imploded?
He had to risk calling in a flight check.
Had the flight due at 11 arrived in Fairbanks yet?
“Silly man!” laughed a lady on the phone,
“Haven’t you learned your own time zone?”
“That was due Central time at 11
but where you are that was 7”
And again the fruit of O’Malley’s big plan
Was on its way to a mistress in Japan.
Probably too late for a legitimate opp,
Besides, he got a lead on an inside bank job.
In the world of prime
To be even is no crime
But there are other ‘two’ who are as cool as Spielberg St-even
They are s-even and el-even
A store open from 7 – 11
is a convenience.
Nobody there so help yourself.
Just take away, but only 7
and don’t forget money to geven.
(Had to add some Dutch for rhyme, 11 = elf; 7 = zeven)
Fourth and Fifth on the list,
Moving up fast.
Ever since 1 was disqualified,
7 & 11 have enjoyed their
Poor 1, always a special case.
Not divisible by itself and 1
itself is 1.
But can 7 & 11 pull the rug
from under 2, 3, & 5?
They are so useful.
Since 2 is even
it’s already on shakey ground.
And 3? It includes shakey
2 and disqualified 1.
But maybe 5 will win
The quincunx number!
But, yet, 5 and its multiples are
kind of like even numbers, always ending in
a multiple of itself, so
like 2 it might go.
7 & 11 might win this race