Eye Of The Beholder?

This Shadorma maybe shows how In Tandem pictures do strange things to my mind!
 

By Jinksy

Morning mist,

wet road hiss of tyres.

Polished car -

going far?

Motorway miles flashing by,

mesmerizing mind.

And here's another Shadorma for Thursday Think Tank, just to keep the form going...

At our feet,

By Ella

red-gold treasures fall
from tall trees
which shower
Autumn's bounty upon us;
an unsought splendour.

A Penguin Odyssey

When you stand all day on ice and snow,
in a land where blustering blizzards blow
you find your extremities soon get numb -
your feet, your flippers, the tail on your bum.
One winter morning, I had an idea.
"I'll search and search both far and near
to find me a human whose dexterous hands
can knit a collection of stripey bands!"

With diligent searching I wandered for miles
till I finally reached the old British Isles -
and found a keen knitter. She pitied my plight.
"I promise I'll knit all day and all night
to create some sort of woollen mittens.
I'll make sure you'll no longer get frost-bitten."
The kind old soul was as good as her word.
" I hope you'll not feel too absurd
wearing wing-warmers, toe-toasties, tail wrap?"
"No! Look how my flippers are all of a flap!
That's my way of saying 'Thanks' Penny my dear.
They're the best things I've seen for many a year!"

Now I'm back home in the ice and snow,
I laugh at the wind. " Blow blizzard, blow!
For wing-warmers, toe-toasties and stripey tail wrap
have turned me into the happiest chap!"

This is my In Tandem #16 offering! Why don't you write one as well?

Trick Or Treat ?

The tapping of the typewriter keys woke me up. Nearby, hovered a malevolent blob of blackness, a spiky sprite of sinister mien. I saw it dance across the keyboard, clacking noises like steel tipped heels accompanying each bound, as inky letters appeared on the page.

“Beware the Witches this All Souls’ Eve !” I read.

Thanks to Tess for this Magpie Tales teaser, on a day when mischief is to be expected! By determination and a little bit of magic, there are 55 words ready for Friday, too!

Welsh Humour?

A dental check-up looms today,
and soon I will be on my way
to display my molars for him.
I'm hoping there will be good news,
for who in their right mind would choose
to maybe lose their sparkling grin?

Grace is keeping our brains active today, by introducing us to another Welsh poetic form, the Cywydd Llosgyrnog, which I can't pronounce...

However, I can understand the rhyme scheme and the following explanation.


 *******A
*******A
**a***B
*******C
*******C
**c***B

A second building block in the "cywydd" meter, this format is written using sestets.  The poem itself can be of any number of stanzas, but each stanza has a strict meter, containing two eight-syllable couplets and two interlacing rhymes on the third and sixth lines.  The third and sixth lines also rhyme with one another.

Pile Up On The M88?

Urban sprawl;
a cacophony
of traffic
overloads
sanity, stuns commuters
into submission.

Magpie 88 lead me to dream up this Shadorma pile up!

Fire, Fire?

By Natasha

Dragons. Such delightful beasts!
I’d welcome one to any feast -
especially a barbeque.
Imagine what their flames could do...
grilling burgers, flaming steaks
without the smoke clouds charcoal makes!
They’d have food finished to a turn,
they’d never let your bangers burn.
And when winter came at last,
they’d light fires in your hearth!


A combined offering for my In Tandem and, when Friday comes, for G-Man's 55

Retrospective Monday

Monday.
Who dreamt that up?
Think: if Tuesday came first,
would that have come to be despised
instead?
But then,
poor Wednesday
would lose pole position
as the turning point of the week.
We know
Thursday
lumbers along,
always looking ahead
to the start of a long weekend,
but then,
Friday
leaves in a rush
to fall into the arms
of Saturday night's excitement.
Oh, yes!
Until
a day of rest
on Sunday recharges
us and the whole thing starts again.
Wicked!

I hope Imaginary Garden with real toads with their open link Monday, will forgive me for doing a time warp this Tuesday, with an attempt at a Crown Cinquain which they mentioned on Sunday! How many of us say we never know what day it is anyway? LOL
And now I've popped this on a shelf of the Poetry Pantry  at Poets United.

Pot Luck Tanka

A duck, out of luck,
has been strung up by his neck.
Tastes good with noodles.

Go easy on the Soy sauce-
you wouldn't want to drown him!


Once again, Tess has produced a Magpie which has brought my idiocy to the fore - sorry, folks! Remember, laughter is the best medicine. I rest my case. But now the poetry police in the shape of Doctor FTSE has pointed out that ducks are SHE's, and by golly, he's right! Who ever saw a menu with roast DRAKE? He's also improved on the whole thing, like so:-

A duck out of luck

hung by her neck tastes good with

oodles of noodles.

Go easy on the Soy sauce-
you wouldn't want to drown her!

which creates 17 syllables in deference to the start of a Tanka - 5/7/5 -  leaving the last 7/7  to incorporate the gender change! Thanks, Doc. :)

Awdl Gywydd

An Artist's Dream

The darkest hours of the night,
when thoughts of fright come calling,
are best forgotten. In sleep,
new dreams may keep enthralling.

Hold fast to their fantasies
and rest at ease while knowing
that these imaginings birth
ideas with seeds worth sowing.

Nothing that is made by man
himself, can prove it has been
created without such seeds
as feed inspiration's dream.

So give thanks when each day dawns,
as it may spawn new ideas  
for a masterpiece to grace
some small space for untold years.

I've been intrigued by Grace's post on Imaginary Garden where she explains about this Welsh poetic form. Each stanza is made up of seven-syllable quatrains and an interlaced rhyme scheme, with the second and fourth lines making a perfect rhyme.

First we see each line is seven syllables. Next, note that there is a rhyme at the midpoint of the second and fourth lines, as well as the perfect rhyme at the end. This interlaced rhyme can be a half-rhyme, consonance, or assonance, and can even be moved around, placing it in the third, fourth, or fifth syllable of each of those lines.

******A
**a***B
******C
**c***B

It is haunting me, so to help get it out of my system for a while, here's my attempt, above.

Another Friday Flash

Image by en.fotolia.com

Face it! Shut out the winter weather.  Indoors together can be a setting for having fun with that special one, you see?  Don't let dark clouds make you frown, drive spirits down into gloom; a smile is all it will take to add a shine to your room and make the world a better place.

55 words for G-Man.

For Breakfast

Thank you to Tess at Magpie Tales who posted a picture by Michael Sowa, from The Little King, which immediately set my mind zooming in to focus on one detail -  the morning cuppa! This is quite ironic, as I actually don't drink tea...



Colour my tea blue
on a day which starts without you.
I'll toast "To my love."  
Because you are the sugar
which makes my life sweet.


And I've just discovered this fits Poetry Jam to a T this week! How's that for good luck? 

In A Whirl

So the seasons turn;
leaf by leaf, red enchants green
into submission.


This is my offering for Susannah's I Saw Sunday - Week 56..

Ready For Friday?

A quick flash in the pan for In Tandem, looking ahead to Friday, when I will be able to link this to Mr Knowitall's blog, where he has a recurring challenge to capture the imagination with 55 words.

Moonlit Odyssey

Like channel swimmer’s struggling to shore,  the stanchions fight to gain foothold in the sand, while siren song of waves lures them out to sea. Their days as foundations for a slipway have sunk beneath the waters of memory. Now they try in vain to shake the salt from their rotting timbers one last time.

N.B. My choice of words at the start of this post was entirely coincidental, but I see G-Man was on the same wavelength for his 55! *smiles* 
Now it's 3am Friday morning, and I can't sleep, so I've written another fitting 55.

I sit here like Madame Defarge,

ensure Mr Crapper looms large

by writing this crap

‘stead of taking a nap.

My words heap Blogland with discharge.

You see, they’re a flash in the pan,

which I add to, whenever I can

with humour and fun.

Jinksy’s always a one

to create a smile for G-man!

(And anybody else who happens to pass by, of course! Now I'm going back to bed, perchance to dream...)

Fying Elephant? Yay!

There's only one of those as far as I'm concerned, and it's this one! Thanks for reminding me, Tess, with your choice for Magpie #85. Here's my shadorma and a video for good measure...

Elephants
won't need those wings if
both ears flap!
Folks will clap
to see their bird-like gliding...
there'll be no hiding!

Blank Pages

Our book of life falls open at a page

whereupon we write our stories daily,

with tracery that weaves our souls’ intent

into the fabric of the words we choose;

ours the choice to seek the light or dark

inks to embellish the script of our play.

We have to take the leading role. Each act

supplies a cast of characters for us,

without whom our production would be dull,

a monologue in shades of monotone

uniformity.  So raise the curtain,

let the orchestra play an overture

as we stand in the wings of a stage set

with backdrops poised to paint the scene for life.

Inspiration came today from Imaginary Garden's guided meditation, and I've linked it to Poetry Pantry , too.

Haunting

An unknown model, posed, half sits, half lies,
her flowing contours etching deep within
the movements of the artist's hand and eyes,

until her image, line by line, was there
upon the sketch book page beneath his pen.
Around him, life continued, unaware.

That night, the tilted shutters of his blind
were backdrop, as her ghostly form appeared.
In shades of grey she lingered in his mind...

Written for In Tandem #12 - why not come a join in? I've also linked this to Imaginary Garden and d'Verse-poets pub.