Treasure Hunt

This is a décima for Ronovan Writes’s current décima challenge: Gold.


A sailor sets out, brash and bold,
To venture into the unknown
Sea towards where his dreams have shown.
To find a treasure chest of gold.

His map is faded, brittle, old
Yet with great trust he starts to sail,
As nascent dawn makes the sky pale —
Adventure, not only gold, gleams:
Happy to be following dreams
Knowing that courage cannot fail.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Changing Face

A few days ago, I wrote a poem for this prompt about “Planting the Seed,” but it was pretty dark, so I wrote something else. 🙂 This is also for FOWC: Immutable.


Nature’s face does often change
And so it should, as seasons dance —
Lives go through also quite a range,
Not all of which is left to chance.

Is circumstance immutable?
Exhausting might be seed-planting
But fruits can come, remain hopeful,
Reward of patience harvesting.

Seeds in a heart shaped tin

Nightmare

This week’s décima challenge from Ronovan Writes is to use the word CHASE in one of the C rhyme spots.


A nightmare blooms inside my head
When I lie down to sleep tonight:
Subconscious seems prepared to fight
As into its strange realm I tread.

As body sleeps snug in my bed,
I’m trying to pick up my pace
To outrun what attempts to chase
Me, but as expected I’m caught.
Can I unlearn what has been taught,
To find a new dream to embrace?

Continue reading

Differences

Today’s SoCS prompt from Linda G. Hill is “difference.” Because I really like math, one of the first things I thought of is that “difference” is the answer to a subtraction problem. 🙂  Then I wrote this, which I think counts as a cherita.


The answer to a subtraction problem —

How much has changed, to make life
Foreign and strange, yet better in some ways?

What has been taken away?
Do not forget how much is left:
What has made a positive difference?

Humility

For FOWC: Coach, I wrote a Chaucerian stanza today. It is important, yet sometimes difficult, to be teachable.


Humility is key to being great,
For in accepting one does not know all,
One can be taught: a coach can help create
A greater confidence where fools would fall.
To know when to oneself a novice call
Will help skills in reality to build,
No sense of hubris but with newness filled.

This Is Not Only About Trees

This poem was inspired by the Weekly Scribblings about trees and also FOWC: Air. I am not sure if this poem is finished (does anyone else get that feeling that, sometimes, the poem might have more to say?), but this is what I have currently.


How beautiful is every tree,
There is delight in different leaves
Of varying forms and sizes, even one
With a tall and leaning trunk —

The air is fresh and clean, clearing
Old thoughts, and memories healing.

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