Sunday, October 27

Gardening?

The Seed

Upwards,
ever upwards
I climb towards the light
while my roots delve into the earth.
I seek nourishment to sustain my blooms
which must encounter sun's blessing
to complete the circle
of my journey
upwards.


Here I've used the Rictameter, nine line syllabic form (2/4/6/8/10/8/6/4/2), where each line increases by two syllables, and the first and last lines are the same. For the Mag 191, Tess chose a painting entitled 'Le Jardin' by Max Ernst.

Sunday, October 20

Have a ball, folks!

Mention a ball and my feet will start tapping
as long as there's music - or perhaps some rapping



of words that will set the mind dancing instead -
as long as the language isn't over my head
with modern expressions that don't mean a thing -
and we can carouse till the fat lady sings
an opera aria which will delight
any opera buffs who are with us tonight...

In one corner a Scots man will pipe us a jig,
in another a sailor in full naval rig
will dance us a hornpipe and shiver me timbers
as I ogle his muscles, all salt-flecked and limber
from climbing the ropes of his ship in full sail
as he weathers the storm  in the face of a gale...

Perhaps we'll hear drumming in good Irish style
as we sip on a Guinness and pause for a while
to study the dancers, at this Willow Ball,
whom Tess has cajoled with her ' Come, one and all!'

I've no time for pictures or musical clips
for writing this ditty was enough for my wits
to contend with, this rather grey day in October.
At this part of the evening I'm still fully sober,
but once the old moon stamps its smile on the sky
I'm sure the festivities will make me high!
So raise up your glasses, and let's have a toast -
" To Tess, and her Manor that spreads coat to coast!"

Thanks for the invite, Tess!

Sunday, October 13

Haunting

Menace
personified,
waiting just out of reach
for the time when the barrier
will fall...

In life
our worst mistakes
pile up in serried ranks,
sit behind another fence,
waiting.

They haunt
waking hours
with retrospective shame
until repentant senses crave
pardon.

For the original picture and more poems, go and visit Tess and her Mag 190.


Sunday, October 6

A Taunting Tanka

"Tick tock" the clock mocks,
"another day you've wasted!
Face my displeasure."
And it whirls its hands faster.
"I will show you who's master!"


Tess and her Mag 189 called forth this flight of fancy, with an image by crilleb50 which I adapted to suit a nightmare scenario. :)