Writers Road Trip 2022
This past Saturday, October 8, 2022 I enjoyed the wonderful experience of the Pennwriters Area 1 Writers Road trip. The road trip is a time for writers to restart, refuel, and reroute. Writing is a pleasurable experience most of the time for those who like to write. Occasionally writers get low on fuel, get lost on a side road or completely stop at a road block.
The road trip was a place to get inspired. Wonderfully talented writers give of their time to teach classes to help get the participants back on the road again. The 14 published authors taught many classes on writing fiction and poetry. They even topped it off with classes on publishing a book and how to market on social media.
My favorite part of the road trip is the Billboard writing contest. You submit a one page typed entry of a short story, essay, or poem. Then the road trip participants, writing peers, vote on the piece. Last year I got Covid a week before the road trip. My poetry entry won second place even though I was too sick to enjoy it in person. This year my poetry entry won first place. I was there to experience it and it felt amazing to be recognized by much more talented folks than myself. My peers validated a gift that God has given me and I was elated.
My entry was titled, My Father’s Pipe Poetry collection. It was a collection of several different styles of poetry all about my dad’s pipe smoking. My dad died many years ago at the age of 62. A sudden and violent heart attack stole him away forever. When I reminisced about dad’s pipe smoking, a poem was truly the only way I wanted to immortalize his memory.
Poetry is meant to invoke emotion through the senses and in the mind. Many times when I write my poetry tears will freely flow. I let the memory come full force and try my best to give it words. The gift of words is the most amazing blessing from God. Words give life to a memory. The Word gives life to the soul.
I want to thank my peers at Pennwriters for encouraging me this past weekend. All the writers who entered the Billboard contest are winners in my book. These are people who understand and appreciate words. Keep writing my friends. Your words are a blessing for others to be restarted, refueled, and rerouted.
For my readers: enjoy My Father’s Pipe poetry collection.
Edward S. Hudak in his classic smoking jacket with his favorite pipe.
My Father’s Pipe Poetry Collection
Haiku (5-7-5)
My father’s pipe’s lit
the memory is fixed
aroma soothes me
Cinquain (2-4-6-8-2)
Pipe lit
Smell is so sweet
Memory is comfort
Going back in time with my sense
Daddy
Nonet (9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1)
My daddy’s pipe smoke swirls around me
It smells so sweet and tickles nose
I feel safe and secure here
Arms hold fast book is out
Story time and pipe
Happy and loved
He is the
Best of
Dads
Limerick
There was a daddy who smoked his pipe
Others would wind it and call him a snipe
He would reply,
“A smoker am I.
Move out of the way and let my smoke fly.”
Senryu (5-7-5, with humor)
The smoking dad stunk
He needed to shower to
Smell like a flower
Remembering with fondness and love, my dad, Edward S. Hudak, 4/5/1927 to 10/19/1989 love, Your little Pea.
Blessings,
Ellen
