Poetry challenge #7 Circular poem: the entries

Last week’s challenge was a challenge for me too, since a rather quirky poetry form I find appealing may not appeal to anyone else. Apparently it did though, and the results are wonderful. Here they are, as usual, in order of appearance.

Jennifer from Graceful Press Poetry got the challenge off to a tremendous start when she posted this double take, of which the second is a circular poem.

https://gracefulpress.wordpress.com/2015/11/26/almost-winter-dreams/

Next is Ken’s contribution. Definitely a Monday morning poem 🙂

TRUE BREW

For a grind, grating on his ear,
near to cacophony as any sound
round about sunrise,
eyes open barely enough to see,
he seems not to mind,
finding satisfaction in the scene,
beans’ aroma pleasing,
teasing his palate with yet to be savored
flavor, its brew offering so much more,
for a grind, grating on his ear.

https://rivrvlogr.wordpress.com/2015/11/26/true-brew/

Then Carol from WritersDream, I suppose what happens after you’ve had Ken’s start to the day.

https://writersdream9.wordpress.com/2015/11/26/settingcircular/

 

Doug, the Elusive Trope sent this, specially for writers.

Therapeutic Coloring

black line pattern on white page
assuage with an invite

incite the mind to focus
locus after locus asking for color

whir of inner gears
blear at first

immerse in the pigment plethora
opera of hues

blue brown green
marine and earthen

beckon down serenity’s track
black line pattern on white page

http://elusivetrope.com/2015/11/27/therapeutic-coloring/

 

Janice, Ontheland, sent this one, another serene poem accompanied by a luscious photo.

Cloud Arrow in Sunset Sky | Ontheland

Bastet sent in this gorgeous offering, a watery poem I particularly liked—you listening, Ken?

Reflections at a Water Fountain – Circular Poem and Hay(na)ku – November 28, 2015 | Bastet and Sekhmet’s Library

 

Éilis sent in this tremendous poem.

How can I recall what is almost forgotten
Lost in a thorny world
Hurled into ceaseless motion
Oceans of grief rise their tides
Behind a heart shut tight to more pain
Again I am wandering
Squandering what I cannot name
Game up, and I have little to show.
Oh, but I’ll stand strong against the cold…
Old stories those, we learn little
It’ll be a wonder if anything changes
Ages may pass, what of the new
Do you really think it will be so enlightened and grand
And in the survival of the day to day
We pay dearly, the cost passes but a few
Too many left hungry, pleading, wanting
Some haunting the places where they learned to be tame
The same, alas, they and I
I am what is almost forgotten.

I’m linking to another of Éilis’ poems, Navigation, another circular poem you might like to read too.

Last one in this week is from Kerfe, short, terse, and with a great illustration!

Junk Mail Art 7: A Portrait and an Interview | method two madness

Thank you so much for participating, and for creating so much lovely poetry. Look in for challenge #8 tomorrow;