Words, they shape me and I am tucked between
Definitions that challenge my senses,
Carve in me pathways, forge for me trenches
Suddenly feeling the potter’s firm grip
Warmed by the skill of His hands that won’t slip
Like flowers strewn, a design does appear
Syllables scattered in sequence foreign
Melted, molded…I’m textured, but not torn
I find me cozy, a square in a sphere
My edges are smoother, yet purpose—clear
No longer does silence hold me in chains
A horse broken…pliant, loosed from the reins
Lava lies, open, now rush unrestrained…
No place to hide—they cool—no longer to maim
dVerse prompt, once again, the sonnet. This time with enjambment. Punctuation. Yes, it adds flavor, enhancing the language, I hope! My offering, nonetheless.
Words drip like honey
On luminous ground
To meander aimlessly
Reflecting what is missing
Replacing my lost soul
Ever deeper the chasm grows
Waking to rain
dVerse wants us to write a confessional poem, directing us to Sylvia Platt, M.L. Rosenthal and Robert Lowell, 3 acclaimed poets of this genre.
For the sake of the prompt alone, no redemptive ending here.
No great one ever born
Mined, extracted from lowly form
Every glow and precious merit
Purified by fire to gain its carat
Not to change is not to grow
Not to reap is not to sow
If I never dare
I will never know
Quadrille Monday at dVerse. An exact 44 word poem (excluding the title). Today’s prompt word is change.
When God calls your name
You never more are the same
You can ignore Him
Like a child pretends he doesn’t hear
But He will pick you up and carry you
He always will be near
This is a short poem I found that I wrote awhile ago. dVerse prompt.. None! Post freely!
Three holidays and 4 birthdays between November and February make for one tired girl here. One more birthday at the end of this month and then it’s over for the year. Next year I would like to clump all our birthdays into one day and get it over with, but deep within me I don’t think it will go over big. My decorations have not been all put away and there are still now more remnants of sweets we can do without.
January here and today it is raining. It seems the weather doesn’t follow any set rules any more. Daily unpredictability eventually leaves one with a why-should-I-be-surprised-or-care attitude. Oh, but all creation groans, the Bible says, and travails in pain, waiting for redemption. Alas, yet there is hope and anticipation in it’s indecisiveness. So stay alive and awake, and DO care!
In rain specks of snow
Even as they melt quickly
Winter is peeking
I’m late. Haibun Monday at dVersepoetspub.com. Word is January.
Passion ignites two souls afire burning
Thunder’s warnings of blinding light
Too late in morning of the stormy night
Now the toil begins with mornings turning
Oh the deed be done and we are branded
By promise and by vow begin our trek
We dare not bare the burning ember’s fleck
Lest guilt and sorrow leave us more stranded
Ah, but wait —though choices be unfettered
Look into fallow ground now lying bare
Why toss to wind like explosive petard
Hope not distant or remote as an isle
And storms are memory after repair
Love can grow though nothing looks as fertile
dVersepoetspun.com. A sonnet. 14 lines, ABBA,ABBA,CDC,CDC. An argument, a Volta (turn), A resolution. Bjorn, give me some feedback. This took a lot of thought. It seems my ending is dangling, but it is 14 lines.
If born in another time
Would I still be me?
Shaped by life as it was or will be
Through these eyes would I still see?
In succulent wealth
Or poverty’s wrath
Neither extreme have crossed my path
Is soul dependent on the flesh
Does circumstance cause circumspect?
To quench its thirst or fill its void?
Are empty vessels paranoid?
I only can live in this time and space
And believe each one
Is perfectly placed
Linked to dVersepoetspub.com once again. A slow start. Prompt is time and space and what if. What if I or someone or something was in another time or place? How might it be different? No answers here. Just questions.