Owl triolet

 

Another voice at midnight clear

Fell from the sky so high and cold—

I’d touch the stars, they seemed so near.

A wilder voice, at midnight clear,

It echoed soft, the feathered fear,

Its hunting song so sweet, so old,

An owl-fierce voice at midnight clear

Fell from the sky so high and cold.

A sea of stars

We’re in the big build up to the commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Armistice in 1918. This triolet came out as a small tribute, and was inspired by Paul Militaru’s lovely photo. Thank you, Paul for letting me borrow it.stars-on-water

 

The river rolls, an ocean full of stars,

A constellation tossed upon the waves,

A pebble tossed, the sky’s bright tribute mars.

The river rolls, an ocean full of stars,

Embroidered notes of ghostly brass fanfares,

A coverlet of light for unmarked graves.

The river rolls, an ocean full of stars,

A pebble tossed, the sky’s bright tribute mars.

 

At the morning of the world

A fable for the world’s end in the form of a triolet, written for the #OctPoWriMo prompt.

 

At the morning of the world there was a tree,

And its broad branches all new life contained,

It sheltered squirrels, blackbirds, you and me.

At the morning of the world there was a tree,

It’s evening now, there’s nothing much to see—

Earth’s beauty squandered—we should have remained

At the morning of the world. There was a tree,

It sheltered squirrels, blackbirds, you and me.

 

Are they shadows?

A bit of madness for the #OctPoWriMo prompt in this triolet. I’m taking ‘free write’ to mean I choose the form.

Are they shadows running through the trees,

On feet so swift? Flickers of the light,

Leaves silver-shivered in the fitful breeze.

Are they shadows running through the trees?

I am the only one that ever sees

The things that run when twilight turns to night.

Are they shadows running through the trees,

Leaves silver-shivered in the fitful breeze?

Winter music

I tried to get all the Secret Keeper’s prompt words

LIST | OVER| STARE | FILM | RHYME

into a single triolet and didn’t manage it. Had to make it a duo. The photo is beautiful, DOGA.

Photo©D.O.G.A

1024px-A_bird_in_the_winter6

Film of ice over winter lake,

Bare trees list when the wind blows cold,

Songbirds their sad music make.

Film of ice over winter lake,

Snow is falling flake by flake,

Softly. Forms before the night is old,

Film of ice. Over winter lake,

Bare trees list when the wind blows cold.

 

Huddled in the thorny hedge,

Beneath a sky where cold stars stare,

The small birds perch on heaven’s edge.

Huddled in the thorny hedge,

When nothing rhymes or feathers fledge,

In nests like poplar trees, so bare,

Huddled in the thorny hedge,

Beneath a sky where cold stars stare.

 

A wild voice rises in the wind tonight

It’s Open Link Night at dverse, so I’ve written a triolet inspired by guess who.

 

A wild voice rises in the wind tonight,

A message soars on sweet-strung wings

Of feathered grey and snowy white.

A wild voice rises in the wind tonight,

As blue clouds scud through the silvery light.

No longer dark, the bright star sings—

A wild voice rises. In the wind tonight,

A message soars on sweet-strung wings.

Longest night

Brooklyn_Museum_-_Moonlight_and_Frost_-_Alexander_Helwig_Wyant_-_overall

The last night falls, sky thick with cloud,

No stars will light the cold damp earth,

No moon will silver river loud.

The last night falls, sky thick with cloud,

Rains frost on furrowed fields, new-ploughed.

On hedges, fruit-stripped, winter’s dearth,

The last night falls. Sky, thick with cloud,

No stars will light the cold, damp earth.

Parting of the ways

This triolet is for the Secret Keeper’s writing prompt. The words:

NEAR | DIVIDE | LINK | BACK | TEACH

 

We are close to the parting of the ways,

We are come, the bounds of the past undone,

Like fallen petals the joy of those days.

We are close to the parting of the ways

Of the heart, flame dies but some memory stays

And guides us back—to the path begun,

We are close. To the parting of the ways

We are come, the bounds of the past undone.