Tag: villanelle

A Goodbye Hymn

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

A Goodbye Hymn

High overhead the wild geese fly
their honking fades into the air,
a threnody, a sad goodbye

to lakes and ponds that don’t reply,
mallards and coots no longer there.
High overhead the wild geese fly

away from cold wind’s chilling sigh.
They sing a chorus of despair
a threnody, a sad goodbye.

I wave my arms, somehow I try
to call them back, but unaware,
high overhead the wild geese fly.

They call each other, pair to pair,
a melody exquisite, rare,
a threnody, a sad goodbye.

I’ll miss them, strutting smartly by –
their songs like penitential prayer,
as overhead the wild geese fly,
a threnody, a sad goodbye

The Old Cat

~ Candace ~ 18 Comments

d’Verse Poets Pub – Poetics: Make some room
http://dversepoets.com

The Old Cat

The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he claims a spot til it’s no longer new.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

a sunny nook to warm his weary bones –
a padded window seat will surely do
The old cat has no room he calls his own.

Somedays a mournful yeowl he does intone,
when favorite blankets have been left askew.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

preferring quietness, to be alone
to ponder catching flies and mice and shrews.
The old cat has no room he calls his own –

he owns it all, each board and stepping stone.
His humble servants also know it’s true.
He wanders round this space seeking a throne,

a cardboard box that he can get into
and fall asleep, curled up and unbeknown.
The old cat has no room he calls his own,
he wanders round the space seeking a throne.

Early Bird & Me

~ Candace ~ Leave a comment

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

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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

My Almost Masterpiece

~ Candace ~ 3 Comments

My Almost Masterpiece

 

How do I know just when to stop
When one more stroke would be too much
Or do I need to shade and crop?

I turn the bottom to the top
A little trick – it’s not a crutch
How do I know just when to stop?

Add cobalt blue to make it pop
Titanium white – a tiny touch
Or do I need to shade and crop?

Paint out the extra still life prop
Then add another pear or such
How do I know just when to stop?

Put down the brush now, let it drop
Release it from my desperate clutch
Or do I need to shade and crop?

Walk away, my canvas swap
Before I change it overmuch
How do I know just when to stop?
Or do I need to shade and crop?