The challenge this week was to write in the form of ottava rima. Generally written in iambic pentameter, this form consists of a stanza of eight lines with the rhyme scheme abababcc. Here are the results.
Marianne Nielsen at Doing the Write Thing! shares a heartwrenching poem about her dad.The first ottava rima I wrote was nonfiction in nature. This one is no different.
Jane Yolen left this hopeful poem in the comments.
America on the Eve of a New PresidentRick Mullin from Waiting for Cassowary shares a poem entitled Huncke.
If our dear land can once again be great,
The beating green heart find its resurrection;
If we can chart the waters of our fate,
The ship of state now passing its inspection;
If we can find flense the flab of ignorant hate,
Rendering it free of all infection,
Then with our banners high we truly claim
Ourselves united in a single name.
Jacqueline also left a poem in the comments.
QUELIMANEsister AE at Having Writ shares a poem that tugs at my alto heartstrings entitled Wanted: Contralto Solos.
City of heat, and dust and rats
By what means do you beguile me?
Perhaps it’s gazing up at bats
floating upon water feeling free.
Or perhaps despite your many drat’s
It’s simply where I’m meant to be.
Summoned here by God above
To learn more truly how to love.
This tiny seed betrays the full-fledged sizeIt's not too late if you still want to play. Leave me a comment about your poem and I'll add it to the list.
of what will someday grow. In forests old
they’re ever green and stretch up to the skies.
Gaze up at nature’s skyscrapers—behold!
Earth's tallest living species boldly rise.
From canopy to floor life is foretold,
as falling pine cones ring out hope anew,
each seed a promise of a giant true.
What am I? Follow this link for the answer. You can also view a spectacular image taken by Ralph Crane for LIFE magazine.