Category Poem

On My Arrival

freyathewriter 17 Comments 
I have thought on this shoreline
a thousand miles distant
wondering if my memory is false
a fever dream arising
from too few vitamins, or sunstroke 
or being beaten senseless 
by forty foot waves
or deafened into stupidity 
by howling storms

the jewels, oh, the jewels
of sunlight reflecting
off mere glass windows
more priceless than pearls
for they are the portals to where you are
rainbow iridescence dancing 
and reflecting a moonlight
I fancy we share, sometimes

something so mundane
as washing on a line
warms my yearning heart
shirt-tails waving in the breeze
skirts, dresses, a silk chemise
such a teasing prospect
for this man, yearning
yet fearing all will be grey
on my arrival

A child’s romper suit, really?
is it swinging in the zephyr
as my ship draws ever near?
I can almost touch the downy cheek
of the little mite who wears it
safe, warm at night
while I ride the waves
pitching and yawing
with my fellow men
salt spray stinging
bringing tears, such tears
to searching eyes

They call me Captain
but that is just my role
my soul, my heart
is anchored here
at this shoreline
where I am free

wife, I see you
wave, wave with all your might!
daughter, I am finally here
I cannot wait to hold you
for the first time
I am home
at last

Egon Schiele, Houses with Laundry (Suburb II) (1914)

Tonight at the dVerse Poets Pub, Melissa is our congenial host and she is inviting us to respond poetically to one of four of Egon Schiele’s paintings, with no restriction on poetic form. I love Schiele’s work and this particular painting captivated me with all the jewel-like washing hanging on the many lines, and the repetition of colours in the windows of the houses beyond the shore.

I immediately thought of the vantage point of the viewer, and wondered who they might be, other than Schiele the artist himself. As you can tell from my poem, I went on quite a journey with my imagined seafaring narrator!

If you would like to take part in ekphrastic imaginings, please do come and join us here at dVerse. Head on over to the post linked above, read about some of Schiele’s short history, his paintings and his legacy, write your poem and follow the instructions Melissa has kindly included.

We look forward to welcoming you!

Incendiary

freyathewriter 16 Comments 
I have nothing left
and so I am consumed
incendiary
for the mother whose fire is extinguished
for the father who is mere ashes
for the child

for the child

I protest
I have nothing left
you will burn with me
and you will listen

Tonight the dVerse Poets Pub is kindly hosted by Punam for Quadrille Monday, where she invites us to write a quadrille of 44 words on the them of ‘protest’.

I will let the poem speak for itself.

(Image credit: Michael Noel, via Pexels).

Promise of Rain

freyathewriter 23 Comments 
He sows fine seeds upon the earth
But no wheat grows, there is a dearth
Of rainfall

The sun beats down upon his field
The soil bakes hard, there is no yield
Still rainless

He hopes for wind and begs for clouds
He whispers soft, he prays aloud
for raindrops

He lies prostrate, drowning in fears
A ghostly form cries saltless tears
The rainsprite

Showers and sunlight join as one
The heavens shimmer, having fun
A rainbow

It’s Meeting the Bar time over at dVerse Poets Pub, and Laura, our congenial host, has asked us to create a Compound Word Verse of five stanzas, three lines in each, with the syllable format 8/8/3 and rhyming pattern a/a/b. The final line must end with the required compound word that begins, or ends, with the stem word.

Limitation can often create freedom as our poetic and creative minds no longer need to expand into the freedom of the form, but in the story itself. I had no idea I was going to write a poem about a farmer desperate for rain – although given the drought and constant high temperatures we have had in Europe, this probably isn’t surprising.

If you fancy trying your hand at this Compound Word Verse form, why not join us? It’s fun, creative and you can read lots of other contributors’ poems into the bargain!