Flowers grew where gunfire thundered
Unrelenting, the bullets plundered
No one listened to no decree
To spare dying humanity
Broken soldiers blindly blundered
Women, children helpless rendered
Amidst chaos reason floundered
None listened to compassion's plea
The war brought peace down on its knee
A waterloo
They walked leaving trail of tears, blood
Homeless, they might as well be dead
Losing loved ones and family
Justice became a tragedy
A waterloo.
#Rondeau
You are the ink that runs in my quill
Becoming the colors that my dreams spill.
You are the letter that shapes my word
Spanning the page like wings of a bird.
You are the thought that fills up my sense
You are the longing that is so immense.
You are the breath that escapes in a sigh
You are the memory in my mind's eye.
You are the peace that whispers in my heart
The oxygen that gives my heart a start .
You are the tear that I hold in my eye
You are the yearning I cannot deny.
You are the rhyme in my April sky
The twinkle in the stars that pass me by.
You are the light in the black of my eyes
You are the answer to all of my why's.
You are the arms that embrace me tight
Together in a love so infinite.
Jeweled
Gossamer wings
Waltz ambrosial trails
Pivoting a lustrous zephyr
Flower smitten, nectar laden, honeyed
Flamenco ballerinas swirl
Little handmaids of wind
Winging, gliding
Lucent.
Petite
Fairies flutter
Tiara of colors
Sipping flavors on orchard's breath
Dipping silken gauze into leaves and blooms
Sparkling wisps robed in finest hues
Riding a symphony
Of a soulful
Ballet.
#Rictameter.
I sat and watched a slow sunset
Darkness blinked as fading light danced
Wind drooled like a clarionet
Amethyst tones of gloam nuanced
Silken gloom turquoise stars caressed
In golden roam sweet dreams enchanced
Lunar rhythms poured euphoric
As amber stardust flamed auric.
# ottava rima
Beautiful, compelling poetry . Awesome response to my Springtime verse .
The magic of Spring:
The sting of Winter
Flung aside, no more
A clinging friend that
Brings crystal tears. Here –
Now – the birds sing
As if to say:
Our wings are not
Penned down by frost,
Our voices
Are not lost.
I’m aching
Just to
Live, in
Spring.
Reading this post by yaskhan was the first time I had come across diminished hexaverse, so, in the long tradition of poets responding to each others’ work, I thought I’d give it a go.
The magic of spring
Garden fills with blooms
Hyacinths, Tulips,
Daffodils, Lilacs
Iris--fleur-de-lis.
Meadows are lush
Trees flush with leaves
Butterflies twirl
And Lovebirds swoon.
A warm sun
Lingers on
Fragrant fields.
Rainbows
Blue skies
Spring.
#diminished hexaverse
celebrating rhyme
and reason….
