This is a poem that came to me a couple of days ago, walking by the river in unseasonal heat. It’s a while since I wrote a circular poem and thought it was worth trotting it out again. It’s a poem that bites its own tail, goes round in a circle and ends up where it started. The lines don’t have to be any particular length or number though it is possible to write a circular poem in a strict meter. The essential is that the last word of the line gives the rhyme to the first word of the following line, and that the first line of the poem is also the last.
The theme is circles and cycles, seasons, life, planetary, whatever you like. The image is of August windfall apples. You can’t see the wasps but I bet there are plenty of them.
You have until next Monday to post your poem in the comments box below. Have fun!
Photo ©Pauline Eccles
Wind is rising,
prizing the first dry leaves,
slipping into autumn.
Plum and apple, ripe full,
gull hangs, against cloud-brushed sky pinned:
wind is rising.