Poetry challenge #9 free style: the entries

This challenge really seemed to get the words flowing. Starting each line with the same letter sounds tough, but you all showed that it’s perfectly possible to write beautiful poetry within such a tight constraint.

First in this week was from DAME from Ms Toy Whisperer

Dame | Ms Toy Whisperer

Next was another ‘D’ poem. This one a love poem from Sacha Black

Dark and murky, this blindness suffocates me,
Deathly quiet, muffled like a blanket of snow yet,
Doubt bangs as loudly as the morning sun shines

Deep in my chest a potent concoction of
dread and exhilaration matts together like glue
deaf to the dangers of love, I
dance willingly into her arms.

Next was Ken with


Simply stellar
Such was that moment

Subtle, yet

Senses reeled, when first I
Stared into her eyes

So it is today
Some years later

Space, time hold no meaning
Save for her presence

So certain am I that
She shares my sentiments


Simply stellar



Peter Bouchier sent this ‘W’ poem



Then an ‘I’ poem from Pensivity



An ‘H’ poem from Elusive Trope

Hyper-Vigilance | Elusive Trope

An ‘S’ poem from Janice

Seeking–Jane Dougherty Poetry Challenge #9 | Ontheland


This ‘B’ bird poem from Kerfe has, of a course, beautiful illustrations

Bunting Bird Brooklyn Bound | method two madness


Another romantic poem YEARNING from Mr. Todd

Yearning… | A Flash of Fiction…


Last in this week, a tour de force in ‘F’ from Merril

Holidays in the Key of F | Yesterday and today: Merril’s historical musings

Thanks so much to you all for participating. Looking forward to the last challenge before Christmas? Watch this space tomorrow.


Poetry challenge #6 Cinquain: the entries

Personally I found the concept of the cinquain a difficult one to get right. Syllable counting works fine, but trying to fit ideas into a set number of words is trickier. You all seemed to manage it though 🙂

Here are the results.

First in was Greg. I liked this one a lot.


Next was Ben Naga with two different forms, and very different styles.


What has she done this time?
What random act deemed faulty? Best


(Enigmatic, fleeting)
Made him grovel,
Forswear his faulty murderous

Next, with illustrations, was Kerfe of the memadtwo duo

Coiled as
if lightning, as
if combining brightness
and death. Revealing suddenly:

Cosmic bridge
connecting regenerating transforming
healing poison hollow


Carol of writersdream sent in this peaceful cinquain



Ken (rivrvlogr) chose a magnificent Flemish painting to illustrate these moving cinquains

Her tears
May seem to dry
To the unseeing eye
Grieving mother’s souls know only

Is powerless
Holds no sway
Tears dry not with

Doug the Elusive Trope’s contribution. I am trying, honest.


feel the trees sway
roll with the waves lapping
let the stress drip from your muscles



This third cinquain of Ken’s I’m adding separately since it is in such a different style to the previous two.

Sweetie Pie
Assertive black feline
Subtly staking out territory



and it also ties in very neatly with this one from R.Todd, entitled

Tiny and light
Dancing on the cat’s nose
Who’s, coincidentally, named

He has been experimenting with cinquains for a while. You can read them all here


Then we had another poignant poem from thesecretkeeper


Someone else trying out the cinquain form for the first time, vronlacroix.

Thank you Veronica, it’s a beautiful small poem


Likewise Kat Myrman making it look so easy!


Three contributions from Janice Spina to wrap things up. Thanks Janice!



and this one



caught in

bleak killing chaos,

rise with courage, to seek



Thank you all. I hope you found this an enriching challenge. I know I did. Tomorrow, challenge #7 will be something (I think) of my own invention.

One line poetry challenge

Hope I’m doing this right…

Ritu nominated me to carry on this challenge originated by Waffles (thank you Ritu 🙂 ), adding the next line to this collective poem.
The rules for the challenge:
1. Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back.

2.Link back to me Waffles.

3. Write one line in the poem. If 4 lines have been reached before you then start a new stanza

4. If you are the 17th line no need to nominate just send it back to me Waffles with a title for the next one.


Autumnal hues herald dawn’s amber glow.
Nature paints in colorful flow.
Everything’s pumpkin from pop tarts to chips.
There’s even a seasonal orange pumpkin dip.
Now a crestfallen suns rich corpse spawns a great feast.
The aroma from scented candles tantalize the palette.
Eerie glows emanate from window sills,
And robin’s song defies the winter beast.

I nominate Jennifer G. Knoblock to carry on the poem.

Threads. Or are they?

This is my response to the Secret Keeper’s Monday poetry challenge to write a poem or piece of prose which includes these five words or synonyms:
Fame, view, mask, bridge, yarn.

Sorry but I can’t find the name of the artist of the painting.


The threads draw tighter,
Masking the sight of the water,
A shimmering, steely safety net.
Or is it illusion?
Bridge sways beneath my feet,
Centuries of glory shifting in river sand,
Dimmed by the cloud mist over the sun.
Or is it my eyes?
Resplendent it is no longer,
Mud creeps, seeps into the fabric of all things.
Not even stone resists.
How could I?
Nailing courage,
Fighting against the sticky web of indecision,
Listening to the roar of the river calling.
Or is it warning?
The sun sinks weary and bloodless into the west,
Drawing the black spidery lines in its wake.
Bridge bucks, sighs, and settles,
Or is it my feet?
I wake, walk, leave the place, where the world is in flux,
And find the bank again, the right bank.
Or should it be the left?

More Tides & Flesh Haiku

The Tide and Flesh prompt just goes on giving. Here are two more fished out of the comments. The first is from Harriet Goodchild:

A finger of foam
Points idly cross the tideline
Water taking flesh

and this one is from Peter Bouchier:

singing swell of words
gently rocking to the breeze
winging weightless bird

Taking up the challenge again, here is my fourth haiku:

Ebb tide leaves behind
limpid pools eyes full of sky
gull watches crab flesh.


Painting by D. Howard Hitchcock.

Night falls

I wrote this in response to a challenge I saw on Christine Haggerty’s blog, to write a poem using these words: stand, insistent, aggravate, wrapped, and cave. I cheated I’m afraid, just couldn’t find a use for aggravate. It’s not a word that sounds very ‘poetic’ to my ears. Reminds me of the Monty Python sketch…

I don’t know what the name for this is but I call it a circular poem.

Night falls,
Calls the fox to his mate,
Waiting beneath the stand of beech.
Leeches darkness from the cave of night,
Lightless the forest paths wrapped in dusk.
Musky the scent of roses still,
Will they fall before the day ends?
Send me a sign in the call of the birds,
Words insistent in the breeze that mutters.
Flutters the blackbird in the withered vine,
Wine finished in the chill wind from the east,
Feasting the cubs on the meagre nest of voles.
Holes in the clouds where I see your face,
Place where the sun used to pour,
For that is the sign?
Mine, the last light?
Night falls.

Sacha Black’s writing challenge: How’s your dialogue?

I’ve just been over to Sacha Black’s blog for a bit of inspiration. She is challenging anyone who fancies it to write a short story using only dialogue. Since my next release, the first volume of the Wormholes series, is pretty heavy on dialogue, I thought I’d give it a go. Here is one of the opening scenes reduced to dialogue.
Yesterday’s pic applies.

“You all right?”
“Can’t see any blood. Mind you, I can see feck all, so it’s possible I’ve lost a limb or two.”
“The building must have come down on top of us.”
“Lucky we’ve got such thick skulls.”
“There has to be a way out. Seems a bit lighter over that way…”
“Careful, Carla. There could be aftershocks.”
“Yeah, exactly. I’d rather not be in here when they hit. It is lighter over this end. Tully! There’s a way out. I can see… Porca miseria!”
“I’m here, I’m here! What’s up? Are you okay?”
“Look out there.”
“Jesus! What in the name of…”
“Tully, where are we?”
“Looks like half time in the War of the Worlds. Let’s go back. There might be a back door.”
“Just for once, can you be serious? How can we go back? Back where? It was the end of the world starting, remember?”
“Looks like it’s over now, so we’re in luck there, at least.”
“I don’t fancy going out there. Not till they put the fires out and those cracks in the ground stop opening and closing like that.”
“Tough! Now just turn around slowly, and don’t try any funny stuff.”
“Who said that?”
“He did.”
“The dwarf with the Kalashnikov?”
“I’m not a dwarf! I’m eleven.”
“Whoever you are, put that fuckin’ thing away before it goes off!”
“Nah. You’re coming with me.”
“Shopping mall. Ace wants to see you.”
“Who’s Ace?”
“The boss. You mess with Ace and he’ll pull all your skin off. A little bit at a time.”
“Okay. Just askin’. You said you were out of deodorant, didn’t you, Carla?”
“Does your mother know where you are?”
“Nobody knows anything anymore. Now move it!”