Cinquain: Violets

This cinquain is for Colleen Chesebro’s challenge.

Wonder

in falling rain,

the rage of wind roaring—

at my feet, violets in damp

grass grow.

 

 

 

Daily poem: Essence 16

 

No moon this night of cloud,

no light on river loud.

Starfall

For the dverse prompt, a short poem that possibly belongs in a form but I can’t remember which.

 

Take a star,

drop it in a pool,

watch the glow spread,

ripples of

firelight—see the echo

in the sky above.

 

In the following, I have turned it into a cinquain.

 

Starfall,

dropped in a pool,

ripples of firelight—

I hear the echo in the sky

above.

Daily poem: Cherita 5

I should have posted this one yesterday…

 

Child is home,

 

drinking coffee

by the fire,

cat on lap

says, glad

to have you back.

Tanka Tuesday: Spring search

Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday challenge is to use synonyms for the words Bond and Seek.

Tie up the sky tight

with wind gusts, hawk swoops and watch

sunlight break the clouds.

I look for spring in damp earth,

among shooting daffodils.

Tanka Tuesday: Oak earth

For Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday prompt. The words to work around are Play & Guess.

Wind riffles the leaves,

long dead and drifting, hiding

acorns, winter feast.

I wonder how many trees,

this deep earth can bring to birth.

Tanka Tuesday: Storm cloud

A tanka for Colleen’s weekly prompt. Words I haven’t used

Destination & Guide

Too full the sky, too

heavy with cloud and crow birds,

breaking sweet silence.

This path we follow through storm

and glimpsed sun will have an end.

Tanka Tuesday: Acorns

For Colleen Chesebro’s poetry challenge. This week’s word prompts are Bells & Past.

Photo©Ewen Roberts

Acorn cups empty,

oak mast fallen, carpeting

dry earth. No bells ring.

Once, this time was electric,

the past chimes with memories.

Tanka: Stark & Trap

Colleen is back after her month long writing marathon with a new Tanka Tuesday prompt, synonyms only this time.

Trees, bare, indistinct

through the mist, stand ghost-pale, still;

chill hangs in the air.

In this valley, fog grips in

cold coils—I forget summer.

Night wind and the fox

 

In the dawn damp

at the forest’s edge,

a red shadow glides.

Bird hush breaks

at sunrise

bright as the brush

of a sleeping fox.

*

March

and mist blows in from the sea

coating my lips in salt

and the electric tang

of unseen vastness.

*

In the night,

a cry,

a bark wilder than any dog’s,

and the sterile concrete of the streets

shivers at the sound.

*

There is a window in the wind

that blows across the river.

Look carefully and you will see

wild swans flying home.