Monthly Archives: April 2021

Never Imagined

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They were alone at last.

On his knees.

His face wet with falling tears.

How he always liked him.

Hands clasped tight in front of him.

His voice hoarse from begging.

His knees wet with the tears that have fallen.

How he always wanted him.

He waited for the stark voice of his command.

He waited for the tantalizing touch of his control.

How he always needed him.

He knew he waited in vain.

So, he looked up at last.

In wet tears of grief.

In front of the marble headstone.

How he never imagined him.

National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 6

Muse does enjoy taking things in an unexpected direction. Sorry/not sorry.

The Proposal

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Photo of a vineyard at dawn vine laden with dark purple grapes.

Walking the vineyard
Early that morning
Wine fermented air
In the day dawning

A table waited
Laden with mounds
Of the deepest
Sweet rounds

There sparkled a diamond
Brighter than the dew
“My love,” you knelt smiling,
“I’ve a grape to pick with you.”

dVerse Poets Pub graphic

dVerse Poets Pub : Quadrille # 125 – In Praise of the Grape

Tonight at dVerse bar Linda serves us some wine to prompt our taste buds to verse the quadrille.

A Quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title. It must include the prompt word wine. Muse was in a silly mood.

National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 5

Risen

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Rendering of the three crosses on Calvary/Golgatha with the Christ's tomb partially opened glowing with light from within, nearby.

We rise now in this fateful hour
Once in thorns, now is nimbus crowned
For He is risen, the blood has power

Knelt in prayers and tears dour
Those of us who are still earthbound
We rise now in this fateful hour

Some stare in awe, others cower
None can deny, the sight astounds
For He is risen, the blood has power

From our knees we grow and flower
New grains to sprout up from the ground
We rise now in this fateful hour

On this third day to now shower
A faith anew with life is found
For He is risen, the blood has power

We cling to the Almighty bower
Spread The Word with joyous sound
We rise now in this fateful hour
For He is risen, the blood has power

National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 4

And today Easter Sunday I offer a Lenten poem in the form of a Villanelle.

The Villanelle is a poetic form composed of nineteen lines. These are arranged as five tercets (three-line stanzas) followed by a quatrain (four-line stanza).

There is no established meter to the villanelle – modern villanelles tend to pentameter, while early villanelles used trimeter or tetrameter.

The most striking thing about a villanelle is that it has two refrains (“A1” and “A2”) and two repeating rhymes (“a” and “b”). The first and third line of the opening tercet are repeated alternately as the refrains, until the last stanza, which includes both refrains.

With this, the pattern of the villanelle can be illustrated as as

A1bA2
abA1
abA2
abA1
abA2
abA1A2

where “a” and “b” are the two rhymes, and the upper case letters (“A1” and “A2”) indicate the refrains.

All That I Need Is Time

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All that I need is time
To smooth these nipped edges
How much more can I take
I’m living a nightmare
While standing here awake

All that I need is time
To help me muddle through
These dreams of yesterday
Like popsicles in sun
They come then melt away

All that I need is time
You're still very much here
Not like I have much choice
Each breeze ignites your touch
As the wind holds your voice

All that I need is time
Just take it day by day
Small comforts slowly grow
Nothing lasts forever
This urgent pain will go

National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 3

And today’s poetic form is a Monchielle

The Monchielle is a poem that consists of four five-line stanzas where the first line repeats in
each verse. Each line within the stanzas consist of six syllables, and lines three and five rhyme.

The rhyme pattern is Abcdc Aefgf Ahiji Aklml.

This Love’s Season

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Spring came with a quickening
Belies frost from days ago
The verdant grass thickening
Wraps this love in rays aglow

Summer raised up paradise
Ablaze in tender poses
Focus on the edelweiss
Blinds this love’s thorns in roses

Autumn felt the forbidden
Narrowed eyes that look away
From tears that come unbidden
Cools this love gone so astray

Winter brought down Xanadu
Once filled with hope so pleasing
In apathy’s residue
Leaves this love interred, freezing

National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 2

Has me trying a brand new form (for me): Ae Freislighe Poems

The Ae Freislighe is an old poetic form from Ireland. It has a quatrain stanzas (4-line stanzas) of only 7 syllables per line. What makes is interesting (and somewhat frustrating) is its rhyme scheme.

Lines 1 and 3 rhyme together, but they rhyme as three syllables (xxa)

Lines 2 and 4 rhyme together as two syllables (xb)

A unique element of the form is that the final syllable of the poem should be the same rhyme as the very first syllable of the poem.

An Ae Freislighe poem can be as concise as one stanza, or scale out as far as a poet wishes.

 

This Morning

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Calm
Peaceful
I slumber 
In morning void
Of unneeded noise

Crash!
Rumble!
Thump! Bang! Boom!
That which man builds
Brings with it much sound

I
Wake to
Cacophony
Of construction
Morning peace now gone

I begin National Poetry Month for 2021 whinging in poem as this morning I was once again startled awake by the sounds of construction happening around my block before my alarm clock had the honors.

Today’s form: the Arun.

A nonce poem created by friend and fellow blogger, GirlGriot, an Arun is a fifteen-line poem in three sets of five lines. Each set of five lines follows the same syllable structure: starting with one syllable and increasing by one syllable with each line. 1/2/3/4/5 — 3x. There are no other rhyme or structural requirements.