d’Verse Poets Pub – Prosery #2 – Sarah has challenged us to write some flash fiction of no more than 144 words using this quote from Alice Oswald’s poem “Full Moon” — “I dreamt I was the moon.”
He turned off the flashlight and we were left in total darkness. The only sound was water lapping against the side of our small flat-bottom boat. Every now and then, a drop of water from the roof of the cave landed on my head.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a little cave kiss,” he said.
I began to wonder why I agreed to this trip. I didn’t like caves, boats ,or darkness. I did love this man who loved spelunking so, I closed my eyes and I dreamt I was the moon.
d’Verse Poets Pub – Meet Jackie Hurlbert
– photo by Jackie Hurlbert-
When evening tip-toes in
To calm the industry of day
When light begins to dim and wind
Becomes a gentle breath
These are the moments birds whisper
Songs to me, filling my dreams
With the hope of their voices
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.
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out of date, too late for PAD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
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
The moon shines soft light
Lightening bugs take flight
Two true hearts ignite
Wishing stars delight
d’Verse Poets Pub – Quadrille #78: Rise
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
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.