Bramlett Mountain’s foothills…the greening! Spring 2022 ~ kat
signs of spring
oh what a thrill it is to see the greening trees buds a-blooming birds on the wing
to hear the sounds of life anew the doves coo coo peepers peeping while we’re sleeping
soft rain falling over the eaves the fragrant breeze it’s very clear springtime is here
~kat
For today, a Minute poem: The rules are: * 3 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas) * 8 syllables in the first line of each stanza * 4 syllables in the remaining lines of each stanza * rhyme scheme: aabb/ccdd/eeff * written in strict iambic meter So each stanza contains 20 syllables times 3 stanzas equals 60 syllables total.
early morn in the month of june took i, my first deep breath of air first born with blue eyes, golden hair under a waning quarter moon to all things magical attuned i was a strange one some would say a solitary to this day who feels in color, sees in sound deeply connected to the ground beneath my feet, one with the clay
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 - Day 29 Prompt: write a poem in which you muse on the gifts you received at birth — whether they are actual presents, like a teddy bear, or talents – like a good singing voice – or circumstances – like a kind older brother, as well as a “curse” you’ve lived with (your grandmother’s insistence on giving you a new and completely creepy porcelain doll for every birthday, a bad singing voice, etc.).
For today’s challenge, a Décima: Décima poems—also called la décima, décima espinela, or simply espinela—are poetic verses or song lyrics consisting of a single four-line stanza followed by four 10-line stanzas with eight syllables per line. The rhyme scheme of each 10-line stanzas follows the pattern ABBAACCDDC. The nature of a décima can be philosophical, religious, lyrical, political, satirical, critical, or humorous.
oh 🍃there is something special about a tree that🌿 is grounding, but only if we are willing to consider that we are connected 🌱to each other, only if we are willing to let go of🍂 reason and give ❤️ an oak or an elm a big hug ~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 Day 28 Prompt: Write a Concrete Poem. In brief, a concrete poem is one in which the lines are shaped in a way that mimics the topic of the poem.
one summer’s eve she came to call a moonlit vision peering in rousing me from slumber’s cusp amidst the wooded hollow’s din with eyes of green, face white as snow raven curls from her hooded cloak, cascading, then whispered she, my name it would rude of me i thought to look away, to hide my head instead i rubbed my eyes in case it was a dream…”i’m not” she said “what then, are you, or rather who?” i might as well engage this sprite it’s odd i don’t feel any fright just curious why she happened by before i could ask her she replied, “i am the mounded loam beneath your feet, my voice is sometimes light, a breeze, or birdsong sweet and other times it roars, a tempest swift to rage, my eyes from green turn steel gray i smell of honeysuckles, roses too, lilacs, lavender, and bells of blue my thoughts are many as the stars and every wish you’ve ever wished i keep close, guarded in my heart.” then just like that, the moon behind clouds drifted, she was gone leaving me to wonder if what i saw was real or just my mind slipping ‘tween lucidity and dreaming, yet i felt her cradle me, calmed by her breath, or was it mine, finally i slept
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 -Day 25 Pronpt: based on the Aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live.
Started my day waking up to this beautiful sky, tree tops, a hint of green, popping with buds, spring on the cusp. I fully intended to write a fancy poem about it…
Morning in the Blue Hills ~kat 2022
…and then events of the day took over…and we had to say goodbye to another beloved pet, our Winston…Winnie Pooh …best boy ever. 8 years is not long enough…even in dog years. 😢 Rest in peace buddy. Go find Maxwell and Casey-cat who crossed the rainbow bridge earlier this year. They’ll show you the ropes. 🥰
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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