National Poetry Month Celebration 2019 - Post Poems Here!

[indar]

Hoary Cave

My favorites are stanzas 2 and 5

[Lecram06]

Triolet 26

From thirty thousand feet
There's nowhere else to go but down.
The shipping lanes drawn, dotted, neat
From thirty thousand feet.
The Greenland ice . . . I see it creep.
Its skin a shroud of wrinkled gray. It wears a frown.
From thirty thousand feet
There's nowhere else to go but down.

[Vaughn Neeld]

Day 26

Mee-Maw

Feeble tears fall
from eyes red-rimmed,
slide down roughened red cheeks,
drip unchecked into soap-scummed water.

Outside, steel-silver rain
gushes from blue-black clouds,
slashes white houses,
waters red horses.

She stacks bone-white plates
onto silver racks, pops the yellow stopper,
drains white hopes,
along with orts and lees.

The tears and rain are incessant--
each fruitless day's lien
against red-gold promises
shattered like blue-green crystal.

[Lecram06]

Day 26

Hoary Cave 

North wind waves the hay
chills mouse and song sparrow
trees bend more than sway
bow to the coming snow 

Fields painted parched and tan
lifeless flora's last stand
earth sallow and wan
a dirge playing for the land 

The end will soon come
cold Sun far and low
gives way    night has won
with Winter fast in tow 

Sheet of white drawn over
blanket thick with snow
heavy the tombs cover
ground buried tight below

Sound of Taps through whitened trees
floats above the frozen grave
softly whispers on the breeze
long sleep in this hoary cave 

Will Spring yet reappear
Will Revelle yet be heard
Will the Sun burn warm and near
Will resurrection be conferred    

 

Aime,  Admire the meter and rhyme, and of course the theme. The last stanza is stunning. Marcel

[Lecram06]

Day 26

Mee-Maw

Feeble tears fall
from eyes red-rimmed,
slide down roughened red cheeks,
drip unchecked into soap-scummed water.

Outside, steel-silver rain
gushes from blue-black clouds,
slashes white houses,
waters red horses.

She stacks bone-white plates
onto silver racks, pops the yellow stopper,
drains white hopes,
along with orts and lees.

The tears and rain are incessant--
each fruitless day's lien
against red-gold promises
shattered like blue-green crystal.

Vaugh, The cascade of colors magnify the feelings. You bring the reader into the scene. The first and last stanzas bookend the poem. Wow. Marcel

 

[Lecram06]

25
Spring 2019

From earth to dust spring slips into summer’s dress,
without pirouette or song. Blackbirds rap dryly
on a tightened canvas and we gaze towards the wind
for signs, premonitions of rain. Our skins tanned
and flaking, harvests, a mere suggestion, no more.

Dave,

I am led to grieve with those who "gaze toward the wind for signs". marcel

[Lecram06]

Gyppo
This is superb

The May Blossom fell early this year.
The trees were stiff with it,
white billowing clouds
outlined against the sky,
glowing in the moonlight
of a still night,
like a giant blancmange.

Dave, I am left with the image of a giant sad pudding hovering over the stiff trees. So much in so few words. marcel
 

[Lecram06]

26      wicker man

Jesus.
We pray for harvest
to burst aflame through the roots of your hands.
We dance and sing and neglect the soil
in thrall to the smoke darkening sky,
eyes upturned to heaven
when it is the earth that bleeds and feeds.

Dave, You give the reader a meditation, how the earth is the holy one. Marcel
 

[ajduclos]

Triolet 26

From thirty thousand feet
There's nowhere else to go but down.
The shipping lanes drawn, dotted, neat
From thirty thousand feet.
The Greenland ice . . . I see it creep.
Its skin a shroud of wrinkled gray. It wears a frown.
From thirty thousand feet
There's nowhere else to go but down.

Marcel - there is nowhere else to go but down............ amen
Aj
 

[ajduclos]

Day 26

Mee-Maw

Feeble tears fall
from eyes red-rimmed,
slide down roughened red cheeks,
drip unchecked into soap-scummed water.

Outside, steel-silver rain
gushes from blue-black clouds,
slashes white houses,
waters red horses.

She stacks bone-white plates
onto silver racks, pops the yellow stopper,
drains white hopes,
along with orts and lees.

The tears and rain are incessant--
each fruitless day's lien
against red-gold promises
shattered like blue-green crystal.

Vaugh, The cascade of colors magnify the feelings. You bring the reader into the scene. The first and last stanzas bookend the poem. Wow. Marcel 

Vaughn - what a great play with colors... what Marcel said in spades
Aj