Poetry Forms - the Letter C, part 3
Dec. 23rd, 2009 01:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
written_leavesSix more - again, wide variety within the forms, but the garden theme uniting them.
Clerihew: Catihews
Cat names Miz,
Knew her biz,
Bug-eyed kitty,
More smart than pretty.
Stinkerbelle,
Her name we'd yell,
Pets she's gittin,
The always-kitten.
Peaches-cat,
Quiet sat,
When tried to speak,
She'd barely squeak.
-
Clogyrnach: Plums
What a lovesome delight, the plum;
Juice-filled, icy or sun-warmed. Come!
Watch the branches shake,
Baskets we will take:
Plum-jam make,
We’ll eat some.
Plums delight wherever they're grown,
When picked with family or alone,
The juice runs down chins,
Sweet-flesh'd purple skins;
Squirrels win
Only stones.
-
Common Measure: Gardening Book
Whenever strange bugs eat my plants,
When queries rise about their their seeds,
Or wondering when to lop the sports,
A gardening book fills every need.
This book for planning, that for trees,
A tome on sun or shady nooks,
The dog-eared pamphlet measures dirt;
One cannot have too many books.
Antique roses and acid firs,
Soil amendments, pruning shrubs;
With winter's reading I cocoon,
A gardening guide's own bookworm grub.
-
Complaint (jeremiad): Lament for Transience
A gardener's hands must never still,
The days with tasks must always fill,
One idle turning 'round the sun;
In but a year the work's undone.
No sooner do they cease to work,
You'd never guess they did not shirk,
So rapidly chaos begun,
In but a year the work's undone.
Enfeebled hands lose rake and shear
And realize their deepest fear -
Sound fruit or blooms? There now are none:
In but a year the work's undone.
-
Couplet, split: Nocturne
The cat at night is always full of play,
Not in the day
Does she want to pursue marbles or mice,
It's not so nice
For those of us who work and try to sleep.
Her toys she keeps
Still until the quietness of night-fall
Brings out them all,
And then she seeks stillness to interrupt,
She wakes us up.
O cat! You think that she would finally learn
That we are stern,
And unamused when light on clock reads 3:
Toss'd out she be.
-
Curtal Sonnet: Washed Away
Evening darkness; roof is pounding, hard rain
Overshadows efforts to rest, to say
Words of smallish doings, rain fills all thoughts:
His mind pictures gutters leaf-clogged, their bane -
Wonders if that basement sump-pump will pay.
Her mind other matters orbits, is caught -
Seeing seedlings washed from new-set soilbeds,
Fragile petals beaten, falling to lay
Muddied, saplings drowning for drainage sought,
Suffocating clay entombs roots, instead
They rot.
-
Clerihew: Catihews
Cat names Miz,
Knew her biz,
Bug-eyed kitty,
More smart than pretty.
Stinkerbelle,
Her name we'd yell,
Pets she's gittin,
The always-kitten.
Peaches-cat,
Quiet sat,
When tried to speak,
She'd barely squeak.
-
Clogyrnach: Plums
What a lovesome delight, the plum;
Juice-filled, icy or sun-warmed. Come!
Watch the branches shake,
Baskets we will take:
Plum-jam make,
We’ll eat some.
Plums delight wherever they're grown,
When picked with family or alone,
The juice runs down chins,
Sweet-flesh'd purple skins;
Squirrels win
Only stones.
-
Common Measure: Gardening Book
Whenever strange bugs eat my plants,
When queries rise about their their seeds,
Or wondering when to lop the sports,
A gardening book fills every need.
This book for planning, that for trees,
A tome on sun or shady nooks,
The dog-eared pamphlet measures dirt;
One cannot have too many books.
Antique roses and acid firs,
Soil amendments, pruning shrubs;
With winter's reading I cocoon,
A gardening guide's own bookworm grub.
-
Complaint (jeremiad): Lament for Transience
A gardener's hands must never still,
The days with tasks must always fill,
One idle turning 'round the sun;
In but a year the work's undone.
No sooner do they cease to work,
You'd never guess they did not shirk,
So rapidly chaos begun,
In but a year the work's undone.
Enfeebled hands lose rake and shear
And realize their deepest fear -
Sound fruit or blooms? There now are none:
In but a year the work's undone.
-
Couplet, split: Nocturne
The cat at night is always full of play,
Not in the day
Does she want to pursue marbles or mice,
It's not so nice
For those of us who work and try to sleep.
Her toys she keeps
Still until the quietness of night-fall
Brings out them all,
And then she seeks stillness to interrupt,
She wakes us up.
O cat! You think that she would finally learn
That we are stern,
And unamused when light on clock reads 3:
Toss'd out she be.
-
Curtal Sonnet: Washed Away
Evening darkness; roof is pounding, hard rain
Overshadows efforts to rest, to say
Words of smallish doings, rain fills all thoughts:
His mind pictures gutters leaf-clogged, their bane -
Wonders if that basement sump-pump will pay.
Her mind other matters orbits, is caught -
Seeing seedlings washed from new-set soilbeds,
Fragile petals beaten, falling to lay
Muddied, saplings drowning for drainage sought,
Suffocating clay entombs roots, instead
They rot.
-