Poetry challenge Trilune: the entries

I’m pleased at how many of you tried out this form. It’s not an easy one to turn into a poem that flows well, but you managed it 🙂

New theme tomorrow. A restful one as I’m battling with the hated promotion today and tomorrow.

Michael (Poetry Channel) with a light-hearted look at (ir)reality.

Departures from Reality | The Poetry Channel


Louise’s poem has elements of the harbinger, written in true fantasy style.

Mark of Moonlight – Fantasy Raconteur


Peter’s poem reads like the start of a folk legend that cries out for the whole story to be written. There is a full version of the story on his blog. Maybe he could post the link in the comments below? I can’t find it.



Ken’s poem isn’t so much a message as a portent of disaster. Chilling.

Lunacy Prevails | rivrvlogr


Kat and Janice are on a similar wavelength. Moons with messages.

Blame it on the Moons | like mercury colliding…


The Crow always complains about how difficult it was to write the poem, and invariably turns in something complex and darkly beautiful.

trilune (20160810) – Words and Feathers


Merril’s poem makes me think of the posters of trips to Mars I found recently on wiki. Strange and otherworldly.

Under Three Moons: A Trilune | Yesterday and today: Merril’s historical musings


Sarah’s poem is truly gorgeous. I’m pleased she came up with something so exquisite since she came up with the name of this form.



Phylor, who managed to catch up on the tilus challenge and write a rather lovely poem on the three moons theme, a trilune in free verse 🙂

JD’S poetry challenge#43: no trilune, only a tilus – Phylor’s Blog

I of night, you of day – Phylor’s Blog


Leara—romantic and wistful.

Three Moons – LearaWrites


Janice’s three moons carry a message we don’t seem to be hearing very well.

Neighbours – Ontheland


A ballad-style contribution from Damien, who managed to combine plumbing with poetry.



And a late entry from Kerfe, assuming I was going to be as late getting this post together as I often am. As often happens with late entries, this one is worth waiting for;

The Power of Three | method two madness





For the Daily Post prompt: Surface.

Photo ©Domenico Salvagnin


Just a second ago it was there,

Shining brightly as an August sky,

If I reached I could break through the skin.


Cold water on every side presses,

I hear the pale sounds of life draining,

Of rocks fraying lifelines worn too thin.


Bright diamonds of air stream away,

The surface a dream or a mirror

Of the darkness that fills me within.


For the Daily Post prompt, a trilune poem.


Maybe you meant it all for the best,

Maybe the stars had reason to hide,

Maybe the moon was elsewhere that night.


Maybe the wind’s song helped you to sleep,

Maybe the night was too dark to see,

Maybe you were just being polite.


My tears were real though hid by the dark,

The stars and moon saw what you did not:

Heartbreak that will not heal in the light.

Poetry challenge #43: Trilune

You’ve never heard of this one, have you? The name was used by Sarah instead of tilus for last week’s poetry challenge, and I liked it so much I’ve given it a poetry form of its own. if you don’t get on with the trilune, just use the photo to prompt a poem in any style you feel appropriate on the theme of

Three moons

These are the rules (but since I made them up I won’t mind if you don’t stick to all of them):

A trilune is a poem of three stanzas of three lines of 3×3 syllables each (that’s 9 in case you were wondering), circling a central theme.  The rhyme is on the third line of each stanza so you get a pattern of abc dec fgc.

My example (the only one in existence, I’m afraid) is below.

Please post your link in the comments box before next Tuesday in time for the round up. Have fun!





We met in a dark and crowded room,

You with your eyes of such piercing green,

Caught in the pull of your gaze, I fell.


First touch, first kiss, first tender embrace,

But not a sight of your heart beneath,

You’d never a single secret tell.


Last time we met in a darkened room,

Your eyes were the green of long-dried kelp,

That drifts away on the ebb tide’s swell.