Is the garden:
Red strawberries ripened,
Big black-and-yellow butterfly
Scamper of lizards scurrying
And I am imbued too:
This poem was inspired by this prompt about meditation. There are several different methods of meditation. The one I do most often is probably the rosary, which, more than the prayers themselves, is really a meditation on the events of the life of Jesus Christ, especially through the eyes of Mary. However, like many people I also enjoy being in nature and feel a lot of peace around flowing water. I went to a park today that has a pond and some tiny waterfalls in it and enjoyed taking in the peace of nature there. 🙂
I am alive,
As I listen to it flowing,
Photo by Samuel Silitonga on Pexels.com
For the paint-chip poetry prompt this week, we are given the challenge of writing a “chance cinquain,” using the words on the paint chips in order in five-line stanzas. I just realized I didn’t use them in order. Oh, well. I am also sharing with JusJoJan.
This is for MLMM’s Tale Weaver: Gift, FOWC: Great, and day 24 of the Christmas challenge. I think the poetry form is called a mirror cinquain. I talked more about gratitude in yesterday’s post, but I am grateful for Christmas itself. Even this crazy year, I think that Christmas will be a special and happy time. We won’t spend time with as much family, but in some ways that’s okay because, in the past, I have felt extra lonely on Christmas, because of all the people. I’m the only person in my family who celebrates Christmas as a religious holiday (not just the secular version), and although I have nothing against the secular expressions of Christmas, it is very lonely when the holiday has a vastly different significance for you than for your family.
The time has come,
Quiet birth of God’s Son,
Celebrate for endless ages
Wondrous surprise as mighty God
As a baby is born,
Weak and helpless,
30 And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God.
31 And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.
32 He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David:
33 And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.
Luke 1:30-33 (KJV)
This is written for FOWC: Putrid and this prompt using the word “crawl.” The form I used is called a Spenserian Quintilla, which I learned about on this blog. This poem is really pessimistic, somewhat of an exaggeration, but I’m sharing it anyway. 🙂 Sometimes, I let the negativity have its voice and then figure out how to smash it later.
There’s difficulty up ahead:
As crawling through a putrid swamp
Is how life feels. Trouble has led
To even more, when will it end?
Before all breaks to pieces, Jesus, heavens rend!
This is a Chaucerian stanza inspired by FOWC: Paranormal, and underneath that is a quick cinquain about what I most fear, for FDDA day 11. As I don’t like to dwell on disgusting things, I wrote it in about a minute, so I’m not putting the second poem in its own post. 🙂
In haunted houses do true ghosts exist?
Some disembodied spirit stuck in pain?
Cannot move on, relinquishing resist,
Stuck in between eternal and Earth’s plane?
One need not die; regrets can haunt the brain
Like much more hungry ghosts, which will devour:
Horrors of past may push into this hour.
Now, for my next “masterpiece”….
Spawn of satan
Disgusting wormy things.
Don’t even make me think about
Shared with the Writers’ Pantry. I wrote this one over a week ago but haven’t shared it yet. This form is a butterfly cinquain, I think. Happy Sunday to all!
Rip out my heart,
Bestow it still beating
Into your patient, waiting hands.
Run that risk to give all of this,
It might be worth hurting
This is for DVerse Poetics, where we are exploring the concept of mermaids and related mythical creatures. I liked an image in the original post, so here it is:
Half-human creature with a fish’s tail,
She’s tempted many mariners with song:
Desire impels them to go right along
Into grave danger as they swiftly sail,
Enticed by light shining off each fish-scale.
It was difficult for me to write any poems today, but here’s one. NaPoWriMo day 25.
My hands over my heart
Whispering “My Lord and my God!” —
NaPoWriMo day 16: a cinquain in response to the Weekly Scribblings prompt.
Quickly filling days and pages.