This week let’s write a garden poem. This subject is ripe with metaphor. Let this prompt be the seed in the fertile soil of your mind then post the harvest in the comments below.
This week let’s write a garden poem. This subject is ripe with metaphor. Let this prompt be the seed in the fertile soil of your mind then post the harvest in the comments below.
Well, it still not taking it… hopefully this written addition with let it through…
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My true love is a garden
My passion for which is clear
For this I’ll seek no pardon
For her favors I hold dear
I till her with my labor
Into warm humus I sow
Her sweetness which I savor
Comes so very soon I know
I lay upon her bosom
On dark nights we watch the sky
Together gather wisdom
Answers to the question, why
And when it turns October
Her young beauty brown and old
Her life to me, surrenders
Frost and the harvest so cold
All winter I’ll dream of her body
Her fragrance still fresh in my mind
On a path to the ultimate samadhi
To summer, to life and the sublime
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Another lovely one! I like the night sky stanza but I’m always a sucker for astronomical images. Well done!
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Um… did my poem make it? It saying “duplicate” but I’m not seeing it
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I don’t see a poem from you for this “Garden” prompt. You posted a lovely poem to this month’s musical prompt, if that’s the one you’re referring to.
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Guerdon
I found a guerdon for my garden,
that I worked on all spring,
Through drought I brought
silver water to soak the curling roots,
One hour everyday I stomped
and danced for rain.
Then anyone could see
how it bloomed for me.
As the season turned to Autumn
sneezing through pollen,
I felt the fall from Eden
when gardens were not enough,
Twirling swords, red hot,
pointed to lessons learned on leaving,
The fluid truth of blooming,
fading, and re-seeding;
The Fall, gift disguised,
earth-bound sleep before re-birth.
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Lovely. I’d never seen the word “Guerdon” before so thanks for sharing that. I especially liked the second stanza for the “silver water” and the “drought” / “brought” fun. English is such a crazy language.
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Question to the group…
In music there is the concept of a triplet: Three notes with the value of one beat. What is the analogous version in poetry? When I try to write an ordered, rhyming poem, I always find it breaks down in to more lyric free verse… where the exact syllables do not count properly, but when spoken aloud flow neatly…
I’m thinking I’m employing some form of “triplets” in them.
Just curious to hear other thoughts…
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This link (for children, helpful to me) explains three syllabic poetry, but it implies that not all three syllables are stressed equally, dactyl and anapest. With music, though I don’t claim to know much about this, aren’t the three notes expressed equally?
https://poetry4kids.com/lessons/rhythm-in-poetry-more-than-two-feet
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Garden and I
I have not been well
there have been cracks and swells
the fire ants walk their path
across and under my skin
It is a decade past the four
that I was meant to have fun
Flowers are not my thing now
I contemplate upon the stems,
the roots that hold my garden
as the fleeting florals die
Spring is well-past
hot flashes of summer rejoice
and yet there is a resilience
that the garden wields
I am happy in all of this
as content as my garden feels
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It gets pretty dark in the middle and your fire ants under my skin line provoke a visceral reaction. Very well done!
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Thank you!
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Flowers beaten by rain
Veggies eaten by rabbits
Sell the land
Move to the city
Make friends with florist and green grocer
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Agreed! The first line reminds me of one of Frost’s. Check out his short poem “Lodged”.
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I read his poem “Lodged” – wonderful.
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That’s why he’s the master. It is wonderful
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Love this prompt!
http://gypsieswritingmusingsquotesgripes.com/2022/05/23/hibiscus-delight/
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Glad this one blossomed for you.
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Thank you Bartholomew! 🌺
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