The challenge this week was to write a roundel. Here are the results.
Sam Riddleburger left this poem in the comments.
A Halloween Poem of Ill Manners and Iller Meter
Godfrey was an annoying gent.
He died of gout, but came back a ghost.
He crept into our kitchen, then
He willfully burnt the toast.
He ate the Spam. He stole the roast.
The spoons he bent. The dishtowels he rent!
With chocolate syrup he engrossed
Messages of ill temperment.
But what bothered us most,
Aside from all the money spent,
He willfully burnt the toast.Kate Coombs of Book Aunt left this poem in the comments.
Sea Turtle Roundel
Sea Turtle swims through a brine-green sky,
sweeping the water with flippers like brooms.
The jellyfish shiver when she goes by,
round and austere as a leathery moon.
Her back is marked with ancient runes,
a map to a beach where a whale's bones lie.
She buries her secret up near the dunes,
then leaves without so much as a lullaby.
The seagulls chant an ominous tune,
but Sea Turtle doesn't have time to hear their cry,
round and austere as a leathery moon.Amy Ludwig VanDerwater left this poem in the comments.
Whispers are rising from under each mound
calling to me though they gave up this game
of living for death, for peace underground.
I trace every name.
Babies and teachers and ministers came.
One final party for lying around,
remembering days of laughter and shame.
Why do I visit them? What have I found?
A voice clear as wind chimes – You are a flame.
Where did it come from? I search for the sound.
I trace every name.Kristy Dempsey of Reverie--Abstract Musings on a Hopeful Life shares a poem entitled Roundel.
Julie Larios of The Drift Record left this poem in the comments.
Backyard JuncoRebecca at Rebecca's Writing Journey shares a poems entitled A Roundel.
Just a little junco in the apple tree
this morning was enough to make me fiddle
with my plans, make me wait & see
(just a little)
what the day would bring. I put the kettle
on, rethought my errands, made a cup of tea,
settled in by the window. The junco's whistle
(just the hint of one, no bigger than the middle
letter of September) the birders call a "buzy zeet" - her ee-ee-ee
was Greek to me. But I love an autumn riddle
(especially if it's little.)
Andy of The Life Allegorical shares A Roundel for Fall.
Andi of a wrung sponge shares a poem entitled Autumn Out My Window.
My poem this week is about one of my favorite sights in spring.
A kite on the breeze dances and sings
cartwheels and flutters--a bit of a tease
shaking its tail and spreading its wings.
A kite on the breeze
soars over the trees
tastes clouds, tugs strings
cavorts with the bees.
As spring gently brings
new life from the freeze,
a song of hope rings
from a kite on the breeze.
It's not too late if you still want to play. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll add it to the list.