Although I usually tend to write rhyming verse, I am now starting to appreciate the different forms of poetry that there are with specific rules. These I have grouped together in what I have called “Proper Poetry”. I have also tried to explain the different formats that I have used, for the reader’s understanding.
I have a complaint.
I wish I could paint
but an artist I ain’t,
so I guess I’ll just write
to describe a sight
that possibly might
or invite me
or even to stress
“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” – Leonardo da Vinci
5 Lines – not rhyming
1st line – a noun, 2 syllables
2nd line – 2 adjectives descriing the noun, 2 syllables each
3rd line – 3 “……ing”words describing noun, 2 syllables each
4th line – a 4 word phrase about the noun, 2 syllables each
5th line – another word for the noun, 2 syllables
25th January 2001 – 8th March 2013My beautiful girl, you’ve gone to sleep today
and never more will we ever get to play.
For twelve years you have been my constant friend
and stayed by my side right to the very end.
You were a madam right from the start
but your winning ways just melted my heart.
You were always the belle of any doggie ball,
and you were big and brave with no fear at all.
The runt of the litter, you always knew how to survive
and bossed your litter sister all the time you were alive,
but we both miss you more than you will ever know
and are so sorry that you now have had to go.
So sleep well, my beautiful girl, your heart has been stilled,
but you’ve left a hole in my heart that will never be filled.
I will always think of you with a heart full of pride
and will dream of you still running by my side.
Okay, it’s New Year’s Day and it’s time for some resolutions,
but I’ve given up making them, I just need some solutions.
I have absolutely no more room in my house for more “stuff”,
and I’ve tried to downsize, but obviously not hard enough.
So this year, I’ll throw away something every single day,
never mind how much I had to pay, or how I’d like it to stay.
As I didn’t use it, play it, wear it or eat it last year,
if I threw it away tomorrow, I should not shed a tear.
Did you know that I am an auntie to some choughs?
They live here at Cornwall’s Lizard, on these bluffs.
Their breeding nests are well guarded both night and day,
just in case marauding egg hunters come that way.
It is good to know that they are back at nightfall
safely nesting, where they belong in old Cornwall.
How many diff’rent shades of blue can one get into a view?
‘An artist’s paradise’ they call it. That’s just so very true.
If I could paint a picture, then I would paint one now for you,
but I guess that my little photo here will just have to do.
St Ives is the place to be whenever you are feeling blue.
There are beaches to die for and ev’ry street affords a view.
There’s gift shops and galleries up little narrow alley ways
and perchance you will find a pleasant place to gawp, gasp and gaze.
A watery winter sun warmed the westward woods
but no birdsong burst from the bare branched birches.
Hawthorn hedges were hidden in the haze,
yet a feathered fiend had fixed his gaze.
Stiff, silent trees were standing stark;
wide eyes were watching, waiting.
Suddenly from his nest,
over frosty fields,
came the barn owl
and still no sound
he dived to the ground,
then soared high again,
caught in his claws his catch.
Heading back from whence he came,
silently sweeping through the sky,
flew with his famished family’s feast.
Yet still no whisper from the waiting woods,
the sun sank sadly ‘neath the skies in the west.
Silence, save for sounds of scrunching from the owl ‘s nest.
Inspired by photographing my friend’s watercolour painting from a picture in the RSPB magazine
My face went a whiter shade of pale
when my man asked me over to stay
for passionate nights in white satin
because he was soon going away.
He was leaving for Sweden next week,
he would not be back for a long while
it would feel like forever autumn
before I would get to see his smile.
With my bright eyes full of wretched tears
that were falling halfway down my cheek,
I swallowed the big lump in my throat
before I could start to softly speak.
“Like a bridge over troubled waters
I will gladly lay me down with you.
We will frolic in your white satin
and I’ll prove my love for you is true.”
Take a random list of five song titles and write a poem using them. I’ve used some of my favourites:- Whiter shade of pale Bridge over troubled waters Forever Autumn Bright eyes Nights in white satin
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
will shelter you well beneath its bough.
Wild cyclamen planted round its feet
are nodding to make your day complete.
Yellow roses in a simple spray
brought here to celebrate your birthday
by your friends, your nearest and dearest,
in the place you chose to take your rest.
In the spring, our snowdrops will push through
and English bluebells will cover you.
Wild anemones over your head
will wander above your resting bed.
We’ll come back then and scatter seeds
to flower freely amongst the weeds.
Not really weeds, just nature’s flowers
‘neath that memorial tree of ours.
May all these flowers bloom, as you did,
and brighten this woodland place amid
the thistles, grasses and the nettles
under this cherry tree’s pink petals.
And may you lie in peace and rest
beneath that tree you loved the best.
And may our flowers bloom and spread
over your green tranquil woodland bed.
With apologies to A E Houseman for stealing his first line
This year has been damp and a good year for fungus,
some are small and pretty and some are humongous,
some crowd in circles around the base of our trees
and some decorate their trunks right up to their knees.
Some look quite cute, almost with friendly faces,
some dark and threatening, crowd in other places,
some look like phallic symbols, some like fairies’ hats,
some look like they should live with Dracular and bats.
Toadstools grow in circles but I have looked to see,
and there’s no sign that I can find of a fairy.
Mushrooms should be good this year, but I’m scared to try
any that I find in woods as I’m passing by.
We’ve been invaded this year with all sorts of spores,
they’re multiplying over the ground in their scores.
Ash trees have been struck with a fungus invasion,
spores from foreign woods have ruined England’s equation.
I feel like I’m living on another planet:
everywhere I go the grass is soggy and wet,
fungi cover the ground in woods everywhere
and I have to step all around them with great care.
I don’t want my dogs to catch a fungus disease,
just like the one that’s killing our native ash trees.
Our Mum has sponsored a dog called “Spot”
he’s not like us, but we think we like him a lot.
He’s seven and a half and it’s so very sad
that he was abandoned – because he was bad?
He lives in the Rehoming Centre in Ballymena
a bit far to visit but someone may be keener
to give him a home so he can live a nice life
and sit by the fire with a man and his wife.
The Dogs Trust charity will never put dogs down
– there may be one somewhere near to your town.
So we hope there’ll be a dog who might make you weep,
like our Spot, who now has Mum to pay for his keep.
We wish we could meet him and go out and play.
He’d love it here but wouldn’t be able to stay.
He’d be hard to handle and he’s so far away too,
and our Mum has her hands full already with us two.
Maybe you’d like to sponsor a dog as well. Perhaps you can’t have a dog of your own but would like to know that you are helping to keep another dog alive, who has been abandoned. If you would like to support this worthwhile cause, visit the Dogs Trust site» To read more about Spot, visit his webpage»
Quill pens, ledgers – bring them all back,
throw away computers on a disused railway track.
Bury them deep and plant over lots of trees,
or take them to the bottom of the deepest seas!
I don’t think we were this stressed fifty years ago.
except when we couldn’t get through the driving snow.
So much information, how can one take it in?
and do we need it for our happiness within?
I remember when we had our first computers –
they were bigger than a pile of invalid scooters!
There was an army of personnel pumping info in,
and a forest load of trees spewed out, which ended in the bin.