Category: d’Verse Poets Pub

Early in the Morning

~ Candace ~ 5 Comments

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: On Wandering & Observing
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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.

Left Behind In May

~ Candace ~ 8 Comments

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out of date, too late for PAD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

The Magic of Moonlight

~ Candace ~ 9 Comments

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

Poem With a Plan

~ Candace ~ 5 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #78: Rise

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Poem With a Plan

 
This poem had a plan –
stay up all night and
watch the sun rise
Watch the morning
ablutions of doves in
the green birdbath
To sip some Earl Gray
as the sky turns pinky blue
This poem woke up on
The couch at noon

Of Souls Lost and Found

~ Candace ~ 8 Comments

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.

Skipping Pebble

~ Candace ~ 11 Comments

d’Verse Poetics: Water, Water Everywhere

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Skipping Pebble

 
If I could be a pebble
I would skip myself across a
glassy lake – creating ripples
that grow larger, spread
farther until
they wash my love onto
the shore of your heart

Aced It

~ Candace ~ 6 Comments

Quadrille #77 – Ace of Poems
De (whimsygizmo) is testing us over at the Pub

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Aced It
This poem is a rhyming ace
Has won first place
In a poeming race
A great big smile upon its face
A sassy curtsy performed with grace
It’s no longer commonplace
Claimed a spot in cyberspace
For you – in case
You require an embrace

A Trolling Poem

~ Candace ~ 18 Comments

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

~ Candace ~ 6 Comments

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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

Rolled Over by the Good Times

~ Candace ~ 12 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Mardi Gras Mambo

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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