Experimenting With Creative Writing
The sapling advised the slow-growing oak to shoot for the sun,
Upright and streamlined, narrow and tall: a cunning tale indeed.
Oak held his branches close, letting light spill onto sapling’s leaves.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Sijo Challenge found here
… And Froglet
True, Earth’s poetry has no end.
Even by the water’s edge
Where moss clings to banks, and tadpoles wedge
For shelter, on the river bend
Beneath a shimmer, as the ripples blend.
When summer halts spring’s final sledge
The tadpoles, they make their pledge,
Huddling until their legs extend.
The resplendence of earth shall never deplete.
Even at night, when darkness creeps,
When chilling winds surf broken soil,
Brilliance is not lost, for the moon’s fleet
Skates on reeds and grass which sweeps.
The froglets find no sign of spoil.
In response to the twenty-third “response” prompt from NaPoWriMo.net
I chose to respond to John Keats’ “On the Grasshopper and Cricket”, a beautiful poem exploring the never-ending “poetry” of nature.
Image credit: pixabay.com
I am delighted to share that five of my poems have been published in Tara Caribou’s nature-themed anthology entitled Creation and the Cosmos.
It is a beautifully formatted anthology with some astonishing poems and photography featuring all things natural, from the harshest of weather to the most gracious wildlife.
My copy should be arriving in the post tomorrow! I am thrilled to be a part of this project.
Wind rattled the hedgerows, and gentle meadows.
Brilliant light pierced the velvety night;
Eating away the glittering stars.
An owl whispered in the sky calling solemnly,
Before reluctantly retreating to his leafy roost.
A stoat whipped the buttercups and grass,
Feeling the early morning heat.
The sky was silent,
As the world awaited the break of dawn.
– Andrew Chandler
A heart-warming poem written by my boyfriend, obviously waiting for his sunshine (me) to wake up. Ha! With his permission, I’m sharing this on my blog to celebrate his beautiful poetry!
Add fuel to the golden fire,
To make us go higher.
We took flight with no wings,
Only colourful rings,
Clutching a woven basket.
It took a while to grasp it,
But once we were suspended,
It could be comprehended,
That there is more to life,
Than war and strife.
Our view is panoramic.
There is such a thing as magic.
Though with each refreshing sigh,
We draw closer to ravens in the sky.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to dVerse’s flights of fancy challenge found here
I sat beside a charming stream,
On the trunk of a fallen tree.
A perfect place to peacefully
Reconsider my latest dream.
I admired the water gleam,
Watching courageous ripples ride,
Toward the rocks, and then collide,
Meandering around the bends.
It taught me changes are not ends,
So I can drift, no need to glide.
In response to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 7 found here
White crests break across the bay,
Every time you glance my way.
Moonbeams dance on the ripples of the sea,
Every time you smile at me.
Dappled sunlight scatters through woodland,
Every time you reach for my hand.
The golden sun sets, fades out of sight,
Every time you kiss me goodnight.
Oh, the beautiful parakeet,
With your soft, ruffled feathers,
In layers of sumptuous plumage.
You take flight with grace,
Landing like gymnasts.
You sing a tune, so gently,
As you admire your reflection,
After hours of preening.
Understandable conceit,
Oh, the beautiful parakeet.
Shared for Open Link Night #267 at dVerse found here
The cheetah perched by the lake,
Cleansing her paws.
She scowled at the water,
For reflecting her flaws.
She rubbed at her spots,
But they wouldn’t disappear.
She loathed her matted coat,
And she shed a sullen tear.
An elephant came along,
And sat by her side.
“Just look at my wrinkles,
I wear them with pride!”
“How do you find the strength?”
The cheetah enquired.
“I found more to life than beauty,
And that’s all it required!”
Image Credit: Pixabay.com
In response to Wrinkle Writing Prompt: Sunday Scribblings #3 found here
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