Rhyming poetic levity with philosophic gravity in a crisp, 44-word echo.
My first take on a limerick. The pesky metre and tricky rhymes are beyond what I initally expected for a lunch-break poem.
Journaling a gloomy day with this quadrille, as I swayed in misunderstanding and waltzed through discord.
Commenting on the most outrageous incident in aviation history using 26 titles from the Billboard of my birth year.
As Grace said, to write one poem, one has to read a thousand of them. And as a new blogger who just spent a month gorging on living, breathing poetry (written by living, breathing poets), and a week and half of subsequent indigestion, I am feeling the emergence of a new voice in my head.
A timely prompt for a quadrille: a 44-word poem on the midnight thunder, overnight drizzle and morning dew.
This is a personal favourite of mine. To a world of polarised politics and chaos, it may be worthwhile to review our lessons before charging blindly into the unknown of the future.