L. Burton — devious as she is — posted a half-sestina as her challenge piece for Jilly’s August Casting Bricks Challenge. Not that I’m not up to the task….
Sometimes those lemons that are squeezed from life
can leave a sour taste in the mouths of children
and adulthood thrusts upon them less time
than they had before to play and dream.
What they wouldn’t give for some special words
to carry with them, to hold and treasure.
Like the attic trunk overflowing with treasure
immeasurable memories before life
became chaos, before silence was words
before the steely grip of a child’s
nightmares tangled with hopeful dreams,
tripping along with the angry flow of time.
Resilient are they, and know in time
the importance of what’s to be treasured;
tap dance on the devil’s schemes, dreaming
on pale blue skies, contemplating life
as only the wonder of a child
can bring. Chalk-dust scribble all the words.
When mystery meets meaning, say the words,
the ones that had been trapped in time.
Amber-bound fossils. Children
who once upon a time were. Treasure
every coo-coo-clock crisp of life.
Treat life not so lightly, but dream
of playground chaos. Dream
those now nearly sacred words:
Hopscotch, Jump Rope. Before life
intruded, adulthood stole golden time.
It is chalked memories we treasure.
Remember what it was like to be children?
So much leaves a sour taste, children!
So long since we could play and dream.
Dreams we carry, hold and treasure.
What we wouldn’t give for some healing words!
Adulthood has thrust upon us, taking time
to deliver lemon upon lemon – a lemonade life.
Why are children infected with life?
Why do our dream bubbles empty with time?
We search for lost treasure, gaining only words.
photo by Charley
Our days of release
dusty cotton gray.
I recline half conscious,
murmur my desire:
describe without descriptors
the roll of the pond,
the nod of the trees.
This is my half-poem challenge for Jilly’s August Casting Bricks Challenge. To participate, find the link on the right-hand side of Jilly’s home page and read the directions. All are welcome!
Darkest hours Labor pains
Patiently pacing Wanting to cuss you!
Dim-lit dawn Not again!
Bald cry echoes Push one more time.
Through the walls One last time!
First born child’s Placed on me.
Entrance call. Precious life!
This is my attempt at completing Alison’s challenge for Jilly’s August Casting Bricks Challenge. To participate, find the link on the right-hand side of Jilly’s home page and read the directions. All are welcome!
Nymphe by Gaston Bussière
Lady loved the plants’ light green
With flowers brightly red.
Her face angelically serene
Had leaves to shade her head.
Desert days, her stems unbent;
Life’s water through her flows.
Sweet-talking plants her days are spent.
Smiles’ light: the flower grows.
This is my attempt at completing Frank’s second challenge for Jilly’s August Casting Bricks Challenge. To participate, find the link on the right-hand side of Jilly’s home page and read the directions. All are welcome!
What’s neither dry nor frozen hard
Makes circles red with bliss
And green takes form to guide and guard
Who’s never foe with smiling face
But guards the heart with love
And love from other takes with grace:
This is my attempt at completing Frank’s first challenge for Jilly’s August Casting Bricks Challenge. To participate, find the link on the right-hand side of Jilly’s home page and read the directions. All are welcome!
(My attempt at finishing Imelda’s challenge
for Jillys August Casting Bricks challenge.)
Moon, lost in orbit
looking for its sun, I am
a gaping silence
devouring your memory
an altar of your absence
Sun, lost in myself
thinking all space orbits me
see your fleeting glance
as you slip behind the earth
now I’ve made you my center
Imelda began this challenge by writing the first part of a Somonka. A somonka is a type of Japanese poetry framed in two tankas. It has love as the central theme and is a sort of a short love-letter exchanged by the persons involved. The mechanics are as follows:
“The Somonka is:
• a poem in 10 lines, made up of 2 tankas.
• syllabic, 5-7-5-7-7 5-7-5-7-7 syllables per line.
• composed in the form of statement-response,
• often written by 2 poets, one writing the statement the other the response but a single poet can write both parts.
• built around the theme of love.” (The information is from poetscollective.org, please click the somonka link to go to the site)