I felt the day yawn this evening. Stretch itself a little further, a little longer. Shoulder up against the dusk and edge another moment of space for itself, before slipping back beneath the blankets of shadow beyond the train station.
I tell myself it was waiting for me. Finally found a coat warm enough to ward off Winter’s frosty demeanour. Scuffed a booted foot against the concrete pavement, shimmered in the puddles with each sure, step.
Can’t be sure if I’ll see the same tomorrow. Crack open the office doors and find night too close for comfort, the space between bare branches weighed out in shadows. Wonder why she left so soon, if she ever turned up the first time.
Spring slips in shyly,
sets down roots slowly, with care,
when you’re not looking.
I’m still playing catch up with NaPoWriMo so here is my response for Day Nineteen’s prompt. It’s a similar technique to found poetry but instead of using a page from a book you salvage from a second hand shop, you write your own paragraph and then turn it into a poem. If you want to see the original paragraph it’s included below.
The only issue I have with this prompt is that it doesn’t have much in the way of contrast as the prose I based the poem off uses quite poetic language. Part of the uniqueness of found poetry is that you sometimes have to work quite hard for the lines. As you can see by the first piece, it would be quite easy just to add line breaks and blank out minimal amounts of the prose to create a poem out of this. That’s why I had two attempts at it. The second being more vicious with the black lines.
The blossom from the plum tree has melted away like snow, leaving behind the green spindles of fragile flesh, that might hold the promise of fruit come autumn months. Beside it, the pear and cherry still hold their flowers. Taller than the other two, the cherry holds its clusters higher, closer together. Like pompoms above a cheerleader’s head, celebrating the strangeness of a warm spell this sweet in April. The pear seems more down to earth, more content in plodding onwards one season at a time. While the cherry’s spine creeps longer and longer still, and the plum spreads its arms to either side like a dancer preparing to bow, the pear stands quietly, dusted in blossom until it is time to let go.
Unlike Autumn, Spring sneaks in all quiet like.
Without the rumble and howling,
the shuddering treetops
and whirlwinds of copper confetti.
You don’t really notice the green arriving
until it’s clinging to every tree
every blade of grass,
and even the land
Quadrilles have to be one of my favourite poets forms at the moment, they’re just so much fun to write. If you want to join in just click the link above and check out the wonder that is the dVerse Poets Pub. All you have to do for tonight’s challenge is write a poem of exactly 44 words and use ‘green’ somewhere in it. Make sure to check out the other poets taking part and let them know you’ve dropped by their posts.
With these longer day,
and the filling of the trees,
Spring is on its way.
The rose bush turns green,
and burnished amber with leaves,
just waiting to bloom.
A couple of haiku for today’s daily prompt.
I think Spring is flirting with me,
lurking around the lilac tree
giggling just like the chaffinch sing
whispering me promises to soon
of warmer winds and flower bloom
softness that she can not yet bring
for morning still dawns harsh and cold
still frozen in King Winter’s hold.
No mercy for usurper Spring.
Last night I was discussing December Form Challenge with a fellow poet in Shrewsbury, and it struck me that last December I didn’t even attempt it. It slipped by me completely unnoticed.
So here is my attempt at what would have been December first’s challenge. A Nove Otto, created by Scott J. Alcorn. It is a nine line, one stanza form with eight syllables in each line. The rhyme scheme is a-a-b-c-c-b-d-d-b.