A Trolling Poem

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille – Troll

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A Trolling Poem

 

This poem has gone fishing –
trolling for words to give to you.
Tender words,
gentle words
that will make you smile.
Shy words,
humble words
that will make you care.
Words like a warm hug.
Words that will make you
fall in love

And I Smiled

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The Friday form challenge over at Poetic Asides is –

Strambotto Poems

“Some of these forms are older than others, and the strambotto traces back to the 13th century. This Italian form known as ottava siciliana (Sicilian octave) or strambotto popolare was the preferred form in Southern Italy, while strambotto toscano was more popular in Tuscany [hat tip to Edward Hirsch’s A Poet’s Glossary]. Today strambotto toscano is known as ottava rima.”

The basic rules for strambotto:

Octave (8-line) poems or stanzas
Hendecasyllabic (or 11-syllable) lines
Rhyme scheme: abababab
Alternate version: There’s also a six-line variant form (still called strambotto) with hendecasyllabic lines and an ababab rhyme scheme.
Here is my attempt (and a picture of that crocus)

And I Smiled

 

I found a yellow crocus blooming today
amid the detritus of a season gone.
Its slender green and white leaves finding a way
through fallen leaves and bits of bark. It was drawn
by Spring’s silent signals and the Sun’s warm rays.
Tightly curled buds, the color of a new fawn,
unfurl to show off in golden, flouncy play
as a milder wind makes them dance in my lawn

A Daily Challenge

A Daily Challenge

 

How did I become trash-challenged?
My kitchen garbage can questions me
every time I open its lid.
I can hear it whisper, “Is that recyclable?”
I search the packaging of pasta, and spinach,
and eggs for the magic numbered triangle,
because I no longer have the ability to
determine what to throw in the garbage
and what to recycle.
How did I become trash-challenged?

Rolled Over by the Good Times

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Mardi Gras Mambo


Rolled Over by the Good Times

 

This poem is flat on its back
Decked out in beads
Passed by and forgotten
Its party days are over
No words left to dance through
These vacant lines on blank paper
It will now march to the beat
Of a different meter – slow down
Become reflective, introspective
Make each syllable accountable
Tread hand-in-hand with its muse
On soft iambic feet

Waiting for the Equinox

Quadrille #75: Spike up a Poem

Waiting for the Equinox

 
This poem is ready to do that Spring thing
shed some layers, put away the sled.
It’s feeling a spike in gratitude – change
of attitude as that old sun creeps closer,
shines shinier, starts to warm the bones
of this winter weary poem

In Early March

D’Verse Poets – Poetry Forms – The Pantoum


In Early March

*

because it started slowly
it fooled us into disbelief
once again the forecast wrong
winter’s surely in retreat

 
it fooled us into disbelief
fine, feathery flakes seemed harmless
winter’s surely in retreat
no need watch or worry now

 
fine, feathery flakes seemed harmless
we put away our shovels, gloves
no need to watch and worry now
and in the morning we’re snowed in

 
we put away our shovels, gloves
once again the forecast wrong
and in the morning we’re snowed in
because it started slowly