In the night

So many things the day hides in full sight
sing sweet enough to break my heart the night,

and wild wind through the branches stripped of leaves
paints dancing shadows, moon art in the night.

The path is hard to tread the day, but sweet
freedom’s taste less tart seems in the night.

Yet under cover of the dark we lie,
deny love could depart, thief in the night,

and many times, with bitterness, we’ve said
we only need a fresh start, in the night.

Ephemeral as sunlight on the stream,
kingfishers never flash-dart in the night;

if only I could hang onto the dream,
I’d run with hare and hart throughout the night.

Instead, the clouds spill dark across the sill,
no words of mine can make them part this night.

Last light star light

A first attempt at a contemporary ghazal for the dverse collection. I’m not sure if this is how it works, but I like it. Inspired by the last two prompts from the Daily Inkling, Among the branches and Among the stars.

 

Last light slants, gold and soft as still ears of corn

through branches heavy with birdsong.

 

Notes full of sunlight, gold and silver as fish in deep pools,

roll and ripple, a tidal river slipping to the sea.

 

High, the stars pause, listen perhaps,

enraptured by the gold-touched music.

 

Low, they bend as darkness deepens among far branches,

gather in glittering hands the threaded chords.

 

From galaxy to galaxy, they string spiral garlands

of blackbird glory to set the silence of space ringing.

 

It hurts my heart to hear them go, the fading notes,

unearthly and so deep rooted, to fly among the stars.

We watch the stars

For the dverse prompt another ghazal. My name means (possibly) destructive or hurtful, hence the reference in the last stanza.

When falls the stilly dark, we watch the stars,

And night cools summer heat, we watch the stars.

 

The last late strollers homeward bound are gone,

No footsteps in the street, we watch the stars.

 

Until the night is deep and all asleep

Beneath a linen sheet, we watch the stars.

 

Then begins the whispering, the brush of lips,

Till lying back, replete, we watch the stars.

 

Because there is no moon to dazzle and

You make the night complete, we watch the stars.

 

I will not rage and bid the dawn not break,

As long as in defeat, we watch the stars.

Before the night

 

A ghazal for the dverse open link night.
 

Before the night falls dusky dark at sunset

There is magic in red skies at sunset.

 

Before the first star wakes to light the night

The last of daylight turquoise dies at sunset.

 

Red sweeps the clouds with fire, an empty sky,

Safe home to roost the last bird flies at sunset

 

Silent-winged, night-soft the hunting owls

Fill the meadows with their cries at sunset.

 

While in our room we let the darkness gather

Your face, your lips, I claim my prize at sunset.

 

In midnight skies

It’s a long time since I wrote a ghazal. Now I remember why. For the dverse prompt.

 

Glory spills in streams in midnight skies,

When moonlight through cloud breaks in midnight skies.

 

I watch you as you sleep and kiss your brow,

Your smile like sunshine wakes in midnight skies.

 

Though thunder rolls and lightning lights the room,

The night is dark, love aches in midnight skies.

 

Take me where the fierce stars never sleep,

Nor boredom passion slakes in midnight skies.

 

In dawn’s pale light when all the night has gone,

Stars fall like snowy flakes in midnight skies.

 

I would write our joy among the stars,

Efface all our mistakes in midnight skies.

We build a winter fire on this night

Well, I did a ghazal for dverse. One for Brigid’s night.

 

We build our winter fire on this night,

Amid rose and sweet briar on this night.

 

To chase the shadows dim, beseech the light

To grant us our desire on this night.

 

Sparks rise up to the stars, a pure delight,

Spring hopes will never tire on this night.

 

Our songs and laughter, darkness put to flight,

Defy the storm crow’s gyre on this night.

 

The year has turned, no jealous sídhe or wight

Will drag joy in the mire on this night.

 

While I, the poet watch the firelight,

Flames climb, a scarlet spire on this night.

 

 

The path leads into night

The dverse challenge tonight is to write a ghazal, one of the most horribly difficult poetry forms I know of. This is a ghazal I wrote a while back. It takes me ages to write one so I’m using an old poem for tonight. If I get another one done this side of the summer I’ll post it too.

 

The path leads into night, when shadows fall,

I take your hand, hold tight, when shadows fall.

 

The owl swoops through the dark, I hear her call,

Pale wings beat through moonlight, when shadows fall.

 

A small death in the silence, bitter gall,

Too rapid to take fright, when shadows fall.

 

So many dangers in the dark befall,

For only stars shed light, when shadows fall.

 

Cypress boughs stretch, beams of a forest hall,

Filter a gleam, so slight, when shadows fall.

 

The beauty of the night will never pall,

Though death delights, whenever shadows fall.

 

Your eyes reflect the stars; I see them all,

On wings, fly there we might, when shadows fall.

Rain

I was challenged by pranabaxom to write a ghazal, which neither of us has done in a while. Here’s mine.

 

On moonless nights, I hear the pounding rain,

Sleep flees beneath the hooves of pounding rain.

 

When dawn breaks with pale light, it casts a glow,

Pearl beauty through veils of astounding rain.

 

The empty day is long and incomplete,

Our sunny bench drenched in rebounding rain.

 

Sad trees drip on the path of your return,

Watery blurs in the surrounding rain.

 

I strain to hear your step upon the path,

The only sound is this confounding rain.

 

Will you bring calm before night falls again,

Or dogged will I be by the hounding rain?

When shadows fall

The NaPoWriMo prompt today is a ghazal. I’m the featured poet today, a pleasant surprise!

The path leads into night, when shadows fall,

I take your hand, hold tight, when shadows fall.

 

The owl swoops through the dark, I hear her call,

Pale wings beat through moonlight, when shadows fall.

 

A small death in the silence, bitter gall,

Too rapid to take fright, when shadows fall.

 

So many dangers in the dark befall,

For only stars shed light, when shadows fall.

 

Cypress boughs stretch, beams of a forest hall,

Filter a gleam, so slight, when shadows fall.

 

The beauty of the night will never pall,

Though death delights, whenever shadows fall.

 

Your eyes reflect the stars; I see them all,

On wings, fly there we might, when shadows fall.

Poetry challenge Ghazal: the entries

This one had me tearing my hair. The instructions for a classic ghazal are convoluted, and I didn’t even attempt the last injunction—to use the poet’s name in the last couplet. However, many of you played fast and loose with some of the other rules too. The results were often beautiful poetry, but missed the point of the ghazal. I admire your courage in going back and producing another poem in the strict ghazal style.

Ghazal or not ghazal, all your creations are poems, lyrical and lovely. They all have a refrain that gives them that song-like quality I think the original ghazal was aiming for, so full marks for creative adaptation.

I think tomorrow’s prompt will be a little more straightforward 🙂

Just adding a late entry from Kim. She got the thing about adding a reference to the poet in the last couplet, so three cheers for that feat!

Parting at Dawn – writing in north norfolk

 

First one was from Lady Lee

Poetry challenge #44: Ghazal – ladyleemanila

 

A first time entry from Matthew and a pretty good one from a self-styled non-poet 🙂

Poetry challenge #44: Ghazal | Twisted Roads of Madness

 

Sarah’s ghazal is a reworking of a first attempt. That internal rhyme scheme is very clever 🙂

Dawn Ghazal – for Jane Dougherty | fmme writes poems

 

Louise—what you’d expect, really.

Crimson Dawn – Fantasy Raconteur

 

Ken with another threatening dawn interpretation.

Unwelcome Dawn | rivrvlogr

 

Damien, who worried away at it to get a ghazal from a lovely poem that wasn’t quite a ghazal.

DAWN, a Ghazal  | Deuxiemepeau- Picturing Poetry by D. B. Donnelly

DAWN II | Deuxiemepeau- Picturing Poetry by D. B. Donnelly

 

Kat, another unrepentant rule-breaker with a classical-sounding poem. Again, very apt given the image prompt.

While We Sleep – A Ghazal | like mercury colliding…

 

Another adventurous attempt from the Fleeting Muse from Assam (Axom?)

Dawn: Poetry Challenge #44: Ghazal – Fleeting Muse

DAWN (Updated to follow rule ) – Fleeting Muse

 

Merril with a ghazal variant I liked a lot.

Dawn is Waking: A Ghazal | Yesterday and today: Merril’s historical musings

 

Same for Kerfe—a poetic variation that makes perfect sense. Love it.

Mother of Winds | method two madness

 

The Crow, breaking rules and not caring. I don’t either—it’s a great, dark and dismal poem 🙂

everybody’s happy (20160819) – Words and Feathers

 

Leara who also worked away at this form to lick it into ghazal shape.

Love At Dawn – LearaWrites

Love At Dawn II – LearaWrites

 

Janice’s poem is mid-way between melancholic and hopeful. Exactly the right tone for the rather strange painting.

Troubled mind – Ontheland

 

Anita, another first timer, who also revised her copy. Strange how many have chosen to leap in with the most problematic challenge so far. Latent masochism?

Dawn – As it Comes

https://writingasitcomes.wordpress.com/2016/08/22/dawn/