Written for dVerse Quadrille #233: Bring On The Boo!
De Jackson (WhimsyGizmo) invites us to scare up
a poem of exactly 44 words, including some form
of the word ‘boo’. This is my contribution.
Tag: dVerse
Memories of Me
Written for dVerse Quadrille Monday #206.
Our prompt word is ‘bend; here is my poem.
I long to be myself again,
before the pain began.
Now wistfully staring at
old photos
of a younger me,
lithe with slender arms
and shapely legs
which once did bend
with graceful ease.
Dancing dreams fill my nights;
I want to sleep forever.
NAR©2024
This is “Pretty Ballerina” by The Left Banke
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Whisker Pie: A Dectina Refrain
Melissa at dVerse poets has asked us to write a poem for the prompt “If You Don’t Like Cats, I’m Sorry”, based on one of Louis Wain’s drawings. I have written a Dectina Refrain for “Cat’s Nightmare”. Oh, but there’s a catch: we can’t use the word “cat” in our poems!
A Dectina Refrain is written as follows: 1st line is 1 syllable, 2nd line is 2 syllables, 3rd line is 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines; the 10th line is comprised of the first four lines as one stand-alone sentence.
WHO
do you
think you are,
trying to hide
from the likes of us?
We have our eyes on you
watching every move you make;
foolish kitties, there’s no escape.
A tasty whisker pie we will bake!
Who do you think you are, trying to hide?
NAR©2024
This is Blood, Sweat and Tears with “The Owl And The Pussycat” (Instrumental Interlude – Outtake 1)
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Never The Same
Our host Björn at dVerse Poets has asked us to write
no more than 144 words, incorporating the highlighted line
from Tomas Tranströmer’s poem “After Someone’s Death.”
The night of my husband’s funeral was the loneliest point in my life. After everyone went home, I was totally alone in the house I shared with Ned for 12 years. I don’t ever remember the house being so cold and quiet. Moonlight engulfed our bedroom yet emptiness was all around. I sat on Ned’s side of the bed and ran my hands over his pillow. It was shockingly cold and my mind drifted back to this morning in Arlington. Row upon row of neat marble headstones, Ned’s fallen brothers in arms, all the names swallowed up by the cold. Hugging his pillow tightly, I cried for the first time in three days. There was a gaping hole in my heart, in my life, and I knew I would never be the same. I don’t ever remember the house being so cold and quiet.
NAR©2024
144 Words
This is “Brothers In Arms” by Dire Straits
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 