GloPoWriMo2019 Day Twenty-five

Today we season with a sonnet.

When first I hear the cuckoo call in spring
I look toward the beech tree grand and tall.
I smell the raindrop's song, and hear it sing
Of dying days of winter that recall

The crisp and frozen crust on fallen snow
That hides the saddest mark of season's end,
And then I turn my face to winds that blow
The taste of hope that memory will mend.

For as I watch the new leaf dimpled sky
And catch the wee birds' chatter in the trees,
And see the soaring hawk that hovers near,
Then think I of foolishness, asking why
The greed of some can bring us to our knees -
But only future's promise do I fear.

(c) 2ndwitch, 25/04/19

GloPoWriMo 2018 - day twenty-six

Today the prompt is to write a poem that embraces all five senses.


Stand still, my friend, and take this moment in your busy day
To contemplate on the which is happening in the shadows
And dark corners of our life.

Be silent, my friend, and take the time to listen to what they say,
Those who live in the darkest corners and the shadows
Of out affluent life.

Breathe deep, my friend, and not only the scent of the flowers gay
Will assail your nose, but also the stench of the shadows
Where poverty is daily life.

Your hand, my friend, could be held out to those who may
Not understand that you know not the cold of the shadows
That are their life.

Be brave, my friend, and realise that the sugar and fat are the way
That many feed themselves, for such is cheap, and in the shadows
Money is scarce to nurture life.

And when these things you have done, my friend, your prejudice lay
Aside, and learn that there is an inevitability in the shadows
Cast as they are by the shining sun of riches, privilege and wealth
That shine on your life; and then as Kipling might have saith
Take heed and mend the things you can
And stand up and be a human.

GloPoWriMo 2017 - day twenty-seven

Today the prompt is taste.

Imitations.

The sugary crunchiness waves to you
From the bag on the
Supermarket shelf.
You walk past.
Then walk back.
Then on again, but no,
You give in and
Put one bag of those
Sugary crunchy doughnuts
In your trolley.

Back home you
Make a brew
And put one
On a plate.
Then you sit in
Your favourite chair
With a book to read.

You take one bite.
And then you
Remember.
THESE doughnuts are
Gloopy and laggy,
They lack crunch,
They have sweet and sickly
Gooey stuff
In the middle.
They are not
The sugary and crunchy
Doughnuts of your dreams.

To get the proper ones
You need to be at the
Seaside.
They need to come from
A booth on the front,
Fresh fried and
Piping hot, and
Dripping with
Sugar.
THOSE are the
Real Thing!

(c) 2ndwitch, 27/04/17