Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Early in the Morning

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: On Wandering & Observing

Early in the Morning

 
She likes to go for a wander
in the morning – before the sun
heats up the day too much.
She strolls along the fitness trail –

passed easily by joggers and
serious walkers – most listening
to something other than the bird calls.
If she is lucky, she gets to watch a

Great Blue Heron fishing among the reeds
that line the shallow end of a small lake,
or laugh at the Little Blue Herons and Swallows
swoop and dive across the water – as if

playing a game of avian tag.
She often stops to sit quietly, whenever she
comes to a bench, looking for a pair of turtles
that sun themselves on an old log – grateful that

someone thought to provide a perfect
spot to just observe. And that is when she
begins feeling a little sorry for the runners
and fitness walkers who miss out on

the benefits of a good wander.

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Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Left Behind In May

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Limbo
Take a break or keep writing? I think I know the answer to that.

Left Behind in May

 

this poem has been left hanging –
languishing in limbo, cast aside,
out of date, too late for PAD
it is twiddling its thumbs
humming on an empty stage
with its meter running low
it’s a free verse for the taking
marking time on sore feet
until opportunity comes again
as leaves flutter down

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

The Magic of Moonlight

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetry form: Lai and Lai Nouveau

“This form looks to be a very simple form comprising of a five syllabled couplet followed by a two syllable line. The number of lines in each stanza is fixed at nine and the couplets must rhyme with each other, as the two syllable lines must also rhyme. In English this line is probably the most difficult part of the poem.

The Lai is a very old French form and tradition states that the short line must not be indented, it must be left dressed to the poem. This is known as Arbre Fourchu (Forked Tree); there is a pattern meant to be set up as a tree.

The number of lines in each stanza is fixed at nine. The number of stanzas is not fixed and each stanza has its own rhyme pattern. The stanza’s rhyme pattern is… a. a. b. a. a. b. a. a. b.”

 

Here’s my first attempt –

The Magic of Moonlight

 
It happens at night
Sky no longer bright
Just dark

The moon shines soft light
Lightening bugs take flight
In arcs

Two true hearts ignite
Wishing stars delight
A spark

Posted in d'Verse Poets Pub, poetry

Of Souls Lost and Found

d’Verse Poets – Poetics: love the words
Laura has us channelling Dylan Thomas for this Pub challenge
BELL-VOICED, CRADLE-PETALS,  DARK-VOWELLED, DUST-TONGUED,
FIRE-DWARFED, GRAVE-GROPING,  HARE-HEELED,  HEAVEN-CIRCLING,
LARK-HIGH,  MAP-BACKED,  MOON-BLOWN,  MUFFLE-TOED,OWL-LIGHT, RINGED-SEA, SCYTHE-EYED, SHE-BIRD,
TEAR-CULLED, TIDE-LOOPED, WATER-SPOKEN, WHALE-WEED

For this Tuesday Poetics I’m asking you to write a poem using at least FOUR of the hyphenated compound words from the above list. Employ as little or as much of Thomas’ other methodologies too as but most of all, let’s love the words!

Of Souls Lost and Found

 

He walked softly, muffle-toed, through
the back of time. He walked until he
caught the ghost of her thoughts, heaven-circling,
whirling, swirling, out of reach. He walked straight
into yesterday where moon-blown memories
faded and dust-tongued poets stoked the fires of
remorse. He walked on, tide-looped and dizzy. And
when she found him, her bell-voiced lullaby and
tear-culled embrace brought him back to life.

Posted in PAD, Poetic Asides, poetry

Early Bird & Me

Day 9 of Poetic Asides PAD – write a love or anti-love poem (or both)

Early Bird & Me – a Villanelle

 
He loves to rise before the sun
While moon and stars are still at play
My night of dreaming not yet done

He, wide awake, his day begun
My eyes are closed – please go away
He loves to rise before the sun

He thinks that I am not much fun
Because in bed I tend to stay
While moon and stars are still at play
He doesn’t know, I sometimes run
Through starlight, under moonbeams lay
He loves to rise before the sun

When moon is tired, stars twinkling done
My moon’s a shining yellow drum
He loves to rise before the sun

Before birdsong is even sung
And I dream on in my own way
He loves to rise before the sun
While moon and stars are still at play