“Put Out the Fire”

“Put out the FIRE

Fire will burn when left to senseless FOAM

o’er wood untended cause the wildest show.

As raked the burning embers to their home

My heart is restless as the fire BELOW.

 

Below the embers ‘neath that fire’s BURN

Unblemished memories; impassioned, stark ,

Remorseless in the depth to which I yearn

No need to rake the coals though they grow dark.

 

Dark thoughts are sent to water fire DOWN

One smoky ruin, smoldering, I wait

While scarlet timbers crackle , I am bound…

No! Crushing heartache I cannot escape.

 

ZYMURGY is the very last word in the dictionary.  Use the “Last Word” of each first and last line of every stanza. Last word of your title becomes the first word of the first line of your poem.  The last word of the first line dictates number of lines in that stanza. Use that word as an Acrostic in that stanza, with the last word of the last line becoming the first word of your next stanza, stringing your thoughts together.  There is no rhyme scheme, but you can make it rhyme.  No syllable count, but you can experiment with one if you wish. Let your muse be the yeast that gets a rise out of you and see what you can brew up.

“Abandoned”

“A look and a soft hug. I press the doll to my breast and smile, trying to recapture those moments.  Then my Aunt says, ‘Don’t you remember playing with her?  I found her in my attic and thought you might get a kick out of seeing her again.’

It is shocking to see something you played with at an early age. A toy you had so loved but long forgotten.   An abandoned love.  I try to grasp her memory.  I hold her like a baby and wonder if hope and spirit might rise again within me so I might own that moment held long ago.   But that five year old girl gone.  Abandoned.  Her giggles and kisses blurred, buried and put away in the attic years ago.”dollstroller

“North Ware Drive”

Some fifty years are gone.  I reminisce.

I drive once more where life and love began

to find that street a faded, goodbye kiss

and all the windows shuttered, blank and bland.

The sun has  blazed upon her casements prior

so now they belch and lean with sickly hue

all gray and green from years of windswept ire.

I briefly hear the laughter of a few

but only in a short and muffled cry.

Above,  a dullness to this dim-lit day.

Dark clouds of purple flee and cast their sigh.

The children have all flown; deserted play.

I try to trace that happiness of place

but circling takes me back where all’s erased.

Poetry

Poetry

Pod song of eager soul
purchased from that life’s toil.
Paid with a heavy toll.
Pure as the pearl’s turmoil.
Promises made to all.
Purloined from father’s frail
purposeful potential.

(“Pleiades” form: Title of Poem must be one Word.Stanza : 7 lines. Each line must begin with Same Letter as used for Title.
Syllable count each line: 6 to 7)