2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 19

For today’s prompt, write an abundant poem. There are so many instances of abundance in the world: Abundant sunshine; abundant happiness; abundant evil; and in November, abundant poetry!


Master Poetic Forms!

Learn how to write sestina, shadorma, haiku, monotetra, golden shovel, and more with The Writer’s Digest Guide to Poetic Forms, by Robert Lee Brewer.

This e-book covers more than 40 poetic forms and shares examples to illustrate how each form works.

Discover a new universe of poetic possibilities and apply it to your poetry today!

Click to continue.


Here’s my attempt at an Abundant Poem:


& i try
because i feel
i may need it some day

abundant forgiveness
for the sins
i’ve done intentionally

& unintentionally
for the hurt that spreads
like a cancer

that will eat until
there’s nothing left
to blame


Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of the poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He edits Poet’s Market and Writer’s Market, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and a poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine.

He believes in forgiveness and moving forward.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.


Find more poetic goodies here:

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

117 thoughts on “2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 19

    1. ingridbruck


      This world has an abundance of germs,
      my granddaughter, Wrenna, knows how to find them.

      It’s not her fault that baby life take place at floor level.
      Hidden germs live in the corners, under shoes,

      germs pass from her hands to her mouth,
      they give her a fever, make her nose snotty.

      Germs pass to and from in her day care,
      they give and get freely in the spirit of Typhoid Mary.

      She brings home germs in abundance,
      they attack hand hoof throat and eyes.

      She brings home germs and shares them
      with her mother, father, friends and me.

  1. MET

    Abundance of Leaves

    I watch the golden and red leaves fall
    Gracefully gliding
    On an invisible track….
    The seasons changing
    Part of life…
    But as I consider the crowns
    Of myriads of trees
    Knowing all those lovely leaves
    I enjoyed all summer
    Must come down…
    I hope the wind
    Blows them down
    Into the hollow.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 19, 2017

  2. grcran

    you abundance me

    luxurious this kiss that
    you give me
    i love you madly
    stand still you will see
    this kiss is metaphor
    tis more than touch
    tis caring bearing investing
    so much
    so luscious you abundance me
    the fond beyond the way
    fern needs the frond
    you friend me to the end oh
    i depend
    rely then i reply i

    gpr crane

  3. cobanionsmith


    There is only so much poetry in
    me, I used to think, so I dared not share.
    Hoarding words created more scarcity.
    My word problem was a matter of lack,
    but faith’s participatory, a trust
    thing, ultimately an illogical
    math problem of the two-fish-five-loaves-fed-
    thousands variety. Besides, the best
    cooks can work miracles with the simplest
    ingredients, and words renew themselves.
    No more fear.There would be no starvation
    here. Just enough is as good as a feast.
    Although a meager meal may be bread and fish,
    simple fare, to the hungry, tastes delicious.

    Courtney O’Banion Smith

  4. robinamelia

    19. Abundance

    Too much of too much tripping over the past in the form of coffee
    tables, speakers, half read books left face down spines cracking
    looking at it all from the vantage point of two leather chairs
    same ones my parents sat in for thirty years but they still work
    though the armrests are cracked covered with designer duck tape
    and the sides clawed by kitties long since gone to their reward
    as have my parents though the reward for humans is not so
    straightforward the promise of butterflies and rainbows
    a bit more contingent requiring an abundance of prayers
    its not retroactive exactly what with God being beyond time
    while the chairs continue to lurch through time deteriorating
    slowly as my husband and I take over the old roles,
    watching the news and shaking our heads things have never
    been this bad, unless they always have been
    the trouble with furniture is one can always envision a use
    and besides you will miss it if you have it carted of as we did and do
    with my old piano so decrepit no one could bring it back to tune
    and no one could stand to hear it played but now those old songs
    Fur Elise and Musette scurry out of corners like furtive spiders
    making our fingers twitch as we lean them on these chairs’ fissured arms.

  5. Valkyri


    There is only one thing
    I can give to this angel girl,
    this little ten year old
    who looks so much like her dad…
    he who left her before she was ever born.
    I think it runs in the generations
    this lack… this lack of love,
    of care, of kindness, of compassion…
    God knows, mom didn’t have it.
    My daughter doesn’t either.
    Grandma had it.
    Perhaps I do, too.
    Perhaps she is the only person
    left in this world for whom
    I still have it an abundance.
    I can make her brown eyes dance,
    even as my greens well up.
    She can play with the old
    costume jewelry, and prance
    on tiptoes with silk scarves.
    She can sleep with the kittens.
    She can learn how to love.
    She will have it in abundance, too.

  6. Linda Rhinehart Neas

    Land of Plenty

    They gather around the table,
    like communicants around an altar.
    Eyes wide in wonder, they ponder the choices.
    The feast before them offers tastes from around the globe –
    golumpki, egg rolls, and dolmathakia
    all rolled by hand and stuffed to please –
    beans and rice, rice pudding, and yogurt rice,
    cakes, cookies and pies –
    from one tradition to another, similar
    yet, different in ways that show the migration
    of masses of people from time’s beginning.
    Together, in silence, they offer their thanks –
    heads bowed, hands held, a tear or two –
    the bounty of this meal, blesses many.

  7. lsteadly

    So Much Happy

    the three of us walk
    side by side down
    the car-forbidden street
    laughing free in
    to the early falling night

    I feel far from sixty,
    forget that you are already,
    imagine for a moment
    we can all mix in with those
    twenty-somethings heading
    the other way

    and then, after our story-
    filled dinner – more than
    once raising our glasses
    to luck, love and living happy-
    we sit scrunched tight
    together in that dark
    comedy club-
    the abundance of laughter
    framing our faces

  8. De Jackson

    One’s Fill

    This poem is full of it,
    to overflowing. Plenty o’
    this, and plenty o’ that.
    She’s all that and a bag

    of chips. Abundant lips,
    iambic feet. Treat her
    to the rhythm of some
    -thing new, a wealth

    of opportunity. A pleth
    -ora of ample songs, both
    real and rough. Then,
    tell her she’s enough.

  9. KM


    If there’s a distinction between an abundance, and too much, I cannot find it in this snow. It’s been going since yesterday, lazy tufts of cotton white, falling, falling, falling. It’s making me lazy too, my limbs soft but heavy as I ready myself for bed. How many hours did I spend today just watching it meander`and puff? Top each fence post with a rounded white cap. Sugar coat the branches of the fir tree — the one the original owners of this house told us they planted the week they moved in. Our street, normally quiet, has been even more so today. The snow covered sidewalk unmarred, the road branded with the intentions of only a few passing cars. Everything is softened with the blessing of snow. Even the biting wind has been hushed by the lullaby.

    – Kim Mannix

  10. De Jackson

    Full Heart

    You saw the whole of the moon
    I spoke about wings
    You just flew
                        – Waterboys

    She’s more moon than most,
    actual size never changing but
    always new in her glow. Throw

    in one lone crow, black smudge
    across that golden orb waxing
    forth in full. Fool

    her into thinking she’s got wings
    of her own, an abundance
    of thrones.

  11. Nancy Posey

    More than Enough

    The lesson of bounty is hard learned:
    trust and let go and see how much returns—
    pressed down, overflowing,
    more than enough to keep,
    plenty to give away.

    We live out the parable
    of the mustard seed
    in okra, tomatoes,
    zucchini—their tiny seeds
    disappear into the soil
    and grow such abundance
    we pass along bagsful
    to anyone who passes by,
    we put away for winter,
    invite the neighbors
    and still the freezer’s full.

    To have enough to share,
    I must let go, trust the miracle
    of providence. After all, I fill
    my lungs without thought,
    drink from the well
    without fear of drought.

    Of all I cannot measure, store up
    for another day—love, laughter,
    joy, mercy—that too overflows.
    I cannot give it all away.

  12. Earl Parsons

    The Hoarders of Humanville

    The garage sale sign beckons my attention
    I’ll take a slow ride by and check it out
    Hmmm, not just baby stuff and clothes
    Guess I’ll stop and stroll up the driveway
    Don’t want to look too interested
    If I do the price may go up

    Now there’s something I might like
    Only a pittance of the original cost
    And in surprisingly good condition
    I don’t need it, but I sure want it
    I should dicker a bit on the price
    Oh, they liked my offer
    It’s mine

    Then I think as I walk to the car
    I just bought it because it was there
    Will I use it or throw it in the closet
    With all the things I thought I wanted
    All the things I’ve hoarded away

    I got home and toured all my closets
    From the floor to the ceiling jam packed
    With stuff that was at one time wanted
    But soon ended up as mere tokens
    Of my selfish desire to possess

    I’m just a hoarder in Humanville
    With closets full of once wanted stuff
    Stuff that could benefit others
    Or add to their overstuffed lives
    For a moment or two…. or three
    Guess it’s time for a garage sale

  13. Anthony94

    Remembering Tangled Rainbows

    A jumbled abundance of color
    the ball of thread, strands with black
    labels, skeins wound into a round mass
    that she would plop onto my lap
    for untazing, a job of hours, quiet,
    little energy left over for chattering.

    She would hem pillowcases or pull
    a thread to even out a kitchen towel
    while I traced rainbows out of arc
    wrapped lengths around my hands
    only to find them caught up again
    nor did it occur to me to ask how

    inside the cookie tin they came to
    wind themselves together into such
    a cacophony of heedlessness. But
    now I have my own cookie tin saved
    from that childhood proclaiming Sunshine
    Biscuits beneath Gainsborough’s Blue Boy

    Christmas treats gifted to my father
    from a supplier in a distant town.
    I keep the silky strands from
    France in their own little bags
    sorted by colors and shades, not
    a tangle among them. Paint with

    thread as the mood strikes and
    the need arises to see a rainbow again.

  14. deringer1


    I breathe deeply as I enter,
    for the aroma of creativity
    is a heady delight.

    All around me are volumns,
    many volumns of words.
    So many ways in which
    to express deep thought
    or simply joy and wonder.

    The weight of knowledge
    presses in, along with
    words to inspire and challenge.

    The emotions of poetry,
    the stories in novels,
    all overwhelm my senses
    with abundance of words.

  15. headintheclouds87

    Leaves of Change

    Autumn in abundance
    Once green leaves
    Become sallow and sickly,
    Sinking into the ground,
    But through less cynical eyes
    They are more golden than brown,
    Signalling great change to come,
    A crunching carpet of possibility
    Just waiting to be stepped through.
    As the wind begins to chill,
    We’ll walk by trees of the past
    Shedding ourselves, just as they have,
    Bare, and embracing a new cycle
    The age of long-awaited revival.

  16. tunesmiff

    G. Smith (BMI)
    When I think about all I’ve got,
    I realize some may have more,
    But I still have a lot.

    There’s a roof that doesn’t leak,
    Over my family’s head,
    The one I love sleeps with me,
    In our warm and cozy bed.
    There’s food enough for all,
    Around our kitchen table,
    And plenty of work to do,
    Because we all are able.

    I’ve been given good kids,
    And a sweet and loving wife;
    I live,
    An abundant life,
    An abundant life,
    An abundant life,
    Yes, I live,
    An abundant life.

    I’ve got a heavy winter jacket,
    A couple of pairs of shoes,
    And I’m lucky ’cause I like my job;
    I have the choice to choose.
    My old house ain’t the biggest,
    My truck runs a little rough,
    But all in all it’s safe to say,
    I have more than enough.

    I’ve been given good kids,
    And a sweet and loving wife;
    Yes, I live,
    An abundant life,
    An abundant life,
    An abundant life,
    Yes, I live,
    An abundant life.

    Most days are cloudless blue,
    Most nights so full of stars,
    I can’t help be so thankful,
    We are where we are.

    I’ve been given good kids,
    And a sweet and loving wife;
    Yes, I live,
    An abundant life,
    An abundant life,
    An abundant life,
    Yes, I live,
    An abundant life.
    I live an abundant life.

    When I think about all that I’ve got,
    And realize some may have more,
    I know I have a lot.

  17. ReathaThomasOakley

    One preacher uncle started
    his own congregation in
    South Florida mega church land.
    Bountiful or Abundant or some
    such it was called, don’t really matter,
    one name’ll do good as the next.
    When she passed, right in
    their marriage bed, he declared
    his beloved wife, mother of his
    preacher sons, a true, bonafide,
    sanctified saint.

    When he was told, the other
    preacher uncle harrumphed,
    my scriptures don’t read that way.

  18. cbwentworth

    chirp without end
    a sleepless night

    pigeons swarm
    Trafalgar Square
    toursits flock

    trees release
    endless leaves
    the yard disappears

    countless stars
    scatter my thoughts
    no strings attached

  19. MET

    Abundance of Creatures

    One strange alien insect,
    Hiding on my gate,
    One bobcat seen
    Once, but more often the tracks.
    Turkeys that refused to move
    When in an amorous tryst
    And in my car, I had to wait
    On my dirt road,
    While running late.
    Cats a plenty
    Come breakfast and dinner.
    Seven raccoons
    Four sassy adults, and
    Three babies,
    One laying on its back,
    Looking up at the trees
    While holding its toes.
    An Opossum, I call Hank
    Waddles up for a feast.
    Vultures feast on dead things,
    While Hawks rule the day, and
    Owls rule the night.
    Ravens and crows,
    Pileated woodpecker,
    And songbirds in summer,
    Cardinals and Blue Jays year round
    While Juncos and Goldfinch
    Are winter visitors.
    The Rain Crow announces
    Three days before the coming rain.
    There are deer that wander,
    And sometimes sleep in my yard.
    I have seen far too many wild hogs, and
    Hear too many coyotes late at night.
    There are snakes and lizards and
    Skinks and salamanders a plenty,
    And toads who like the bugs…
    Sometimes at night I have seen a lunar moth, and
    In daytime many more butterflies than I can count.
    I live here with them
    In my house in the woods.
    I am their guardian…
    The keeper of trees.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 19, 2017

  20. Bruce Niedt


    It’s a familiar symbol this time of year,
    the horn-shaped basket, overflowing
    with a bounty of foods – meat, breads,
    fruits and vegetables, produced
    on the farms of our land, all ready
    to prepare and serve at our holiday feast.
    But too many people find themselves
    at the wrong end of the horn,
    the point, woven tightly closed,
    from which nothing issues. Let us take
    some of that abundance which falls
    from the mouth of this archetypal vessel,
    and bring it to the other side,
    then blow the horn, ring the bell,
    and call everyone to the table.

  21. thunk2much


    Sunday is fat and happy,
    watching the dogs play
    in between pages turning,
    touchdowns and lie-downs.

    When you ask about errands,
    she yawns on the couch,
    still in her pajamas at noon
    and whispers nah, I’m good.

  22. Janet Rice Carnahan


    Poetic words, birds flying around
    Chipmunks scurrying on the ground

    Wind whipping into breezes
    Fall still here, winter teases

    Looking back over the year
    An abundance of love was very clear

    Showing up outside my window
    Life at full speed, lets me know

    House full of joy, children were here
    Laughter and plans, moments to cheer

    Our family came by to celebrate
    All were smiling, the time was great

    Good friends stopped by, shared their time
    In between our rhythm and rhyme

    Abundance of memories, joy in the wind
    Happy for what I have without end

    Whether it’s a lot or very small
    In my heart, such gratitude for all

  23. MET

    Life in Abundance…

    She had lived a long life;
    Her time for living was ticking downward.
    She watched out the window
    Worrying about trees that might fall, and
    Thieves in the night.
    She lived a good life, but
    It was a road made only for the strong.
    She buried more than most people
    Could stand… death was the real thief
    To her life, but death she did not fear.
    As she walked this road,
    She faced it all, and
    Counted the joys
    More than she counted her sorrows.
    She had a nice house, and
    Could have had more…
    But all she needed was plants to water,
    Creatures to feed, and
    A kitchen to cook our meals.

    She looked out at the ridge
    Where she looked every day, and
    Said there were two mansions
    Being built by men in white robes,
    And flames around their feet.
    She complained they were going
    To burn down the forest, as
    I pointed out I could not see.
    She said they were beautiful, and
    Could not understand why I could not see.
    A year from the first vision of the mansion…
    She went home
    To live there, with my brothers father, and
    All those who went before.
    She planned her banquet and
    Invited many….
    All the guests had gone before her
    Would celebrate her coming.
    Tears would wring my heart
    Like a dirty dish rag…
    I was never strong like her
    Nor had the grace that possessed her,
    But what a gift she left for us
    For she gave us a glimpse of heaven.

    In the end her life is remembered
    Not by all she lost, but
    For all the things she loved…
    A good story that made sense,
    Dogwood trees that made clouds
    Of white drifting down in the hollow,
    Birds, raccoons, ‘possums and cats
    Her creatures that she fed…
    People that graced their presence
    At her table, were always treated kindly.
    It was an abundant life
    Where love was no stranger.
    It wasn’t silver or gold she treasured,
    But those ordinary things, and
    That she had full measure and overflowing.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 19, 2017

      1. MET

        as mother left us … she talked to the dead, and saw angels and heard music more beautiful than she ever heard… she invited over 200 dead people with her sitter and me being the only ones still living… and she gave us a clue to that when she said… I no longer know if I am living or dead… I forgot about the mansions until two months later I was at the funeral of a dear friend’s father and the priest spoke of it.. and I began to tremble because I knew she witnessed the building her and Joe’s mansion….those experiences I will treasure always… and even though money was tight after she died… and I could not get but a part time job… I have regretted leaving my job after 28 years to care for her…

      1. MET

        thank you very much I love your work also… and I know I don’t post on it often… but I do love it… you bring a wealth and passion to it…. and I really like that… by the way go read the poem I wrote about the Abundance of Creatures… the thing about the turkeys happened…

  24. bmorrison9

    My Old Cat

    My old cat pees
    more that any cat
    I’ve ever known,
    a seven-pound factory
    bowls of water into
    heavy clumps of litter:
    proof she’s healthy
    and will warm my lap
    for many more Novembers.

  25. taylor graham


    Another rosy-fingered dawn,
    beacon to brighten
    clarity of mid-November –
    December on the way but
    everything in its good time. This morning
    frost is on the swale, our dead
    garden silvered, touched with light.
    How does morning so
    insistently shiver-shake me awake with
    joy I can’t name?
    Kitchen’s warm as my fingers
    laced around a coffee
    mug – ceramic heavy with memories of
    Novembers past.
    Our grounds enriching gardens of
    patient soil – the
    quirks of Nature, call them blessings,
    ringing of the bell that calls for
    starts and
    turnarounds, destiny’s
    unplannings of our best-laid
    ventures; unexpected vistas on our
    xing out our calculations,
    yanking us alive. Look! sun’s headed for

  26. bartonsmock

    [soft facts]

    had he not been all those years
    writing a review
    for the last book
    in the world
    my father
    would’ve been
    a poet

    there are only so many crows
    one can see
    outside a laundromat
    for the drowned, scarless hawks

    so maternally nudged
    into the travelogue
    of my staying

  27. Jezzie


    It is abundantly clear
    we have had our fair share here
    of heavy rainfall this year.
    But I really do not care
    that there’s water everywhere
    while I sit indoors and stare
    at my new garden with pride
    or at ducks that come to glide
    on the wildlife pond outside.

    Drier days I can have fun
    taking my dog for a run,
    enjoying sea breeze and sun,
    gazing at waves on the sea
    high up on cliffs in Newquay.
    I count myself as lucky:
    I’ve had the sense to retire
    and I’ll never, ever tire
    of the sea views I admire.

  28. annell

    my life is full
    my needs are small
    the weather is mild
    the sun shines almost everyday
    happiness is mine
    i am blessed

    as i approach
    the road’s end
    looking back
    it hasn’t been so bad
    of course, there have been bumps
    the way hasn’t always been easy

    on more than one occasion
    the bridge was out
    broke a wagon wheel once
    nothing that couldn’t be fixed
    my hope is the rest of the way
    will be no harder than the first

    i have a plan
    compass and a map
    i am confident
    i will reach the oasis
    before nightfall
    on this night
    i will make wishes on shooting stars
    give thanks for your presence

    November 19, 2017

    Note: Today many years ago, I was born on this day, the sun was shining, it rained all day, the weather mild, the snow fell into drifts, the angels slept in, I laughed and cried, so glad to be, my adventure began……

  29. Eileen S


    The dishes are passed around the festive table.
    We are fortunate that our loved ones can
    join us on this uniquely American holiday.
    There is a large platter of carved turkey
    in the center of the expanded table.
    As we chat and stuff ourselves,
    we thank the Lord for our abundance
    for there are those in the world
    and even in our own country
    who don’t have enough.

  30. candy

    let’s make it abundantly clear ….

    this poem is not endowed
    with an abundance of

    it sometimes trips
    over its own unrhymed

    it often speak its mind
    and ends up bold faced –

    this poem gets lost
    and scared
    and sheds tears in

    but this poem is honest
    and true
    it is in love with the moon
    and stars and


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.