Here’s what to do: *Write a poem (in any form) in response to the challenge: to pick three or more words from the spice list above to use in your poem.
On a paprika and saffron sky Subdued by vanilla clouds We bid the zest of day good-bye On a paprika and saffron sky. Time to savor a lush lullaby Dispersed are imposing crowds On a paprika and saffron sky Subdued by vanilla clouds.
I first came across Lee’s work on Twitter – @LeeMadgwick – and was struck by his surreal landscapes, and those enigmatic buildings. I immediately wanted to share them with you guys, and see what poetry came out of them, and Lee was kind enough to give me permission to do that. Please stick with these images, as these are the ones we have permission for – but if you want to see more of Lee’s (amazing) work, you can find him at leemadgwick.co.uk.
So it’s very simple tonight – choose an image, and write a poem inspired by it. Please credit Lee, and please link back to this post, and to good old Mr Linky. And don’t forget to read and comment on other people’s poems.
Shadows forge a crown of light Combating joys and sorrows meet Enchanted doves in easy flight Shadows forge a crown of light Sheltered moments free from plight Exposing anguish to defeat Shadows forge a crown of light Combating joys and sorrows meet —————————- I Triolet Form
“Total all-encompassing darkness even though the midday sun burns my face!”
Brian paused as he processed those opposing disorienting sensations. But as he crossed his legs and sat, he could smell the rich microbial communities in his newly tilled garden soil and felt balance return.
The wartime sacrifice of his sight wasn’t going to rob him of living fully. At that moment, he realized perhaps more fully than he’d ever known.
His father had dug a donut-shape and seated Brian on sod in the center with a trowel and 2 pre-selected seed packages.
Brian wanted sturdy sunflowers so their growth could be witnessed by his flesh as cool shadows, yet his fingertips would not bend them.
His other request was for aroma.
His Dad shed silent tears when Brian proclaimed, “I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace.”
Rising at dawn, Breathing in peacefulness, Your thankful habit Of poignant pause.
In vital company of One moment wholly natural. -Alertness alive- Everything greeting nothing.
Nebulous doubts of Reward obscured by honesty, Fortune occupies the morning. Where tepid souls awaken To all things possible.
The bloody battle suddenly paused because of an unusual mid-April blizzard. A tempest of icy crystals obscured visibility to a few feet as the under clothed soldiers huddled in small groups. Jimmy’s tour-of-duty was due to end in thirteen days but his gut was warning him otherwise. He felt compelled to scratch a short letter to his mother with numb fingertips and place it in his pocket.
Dear Mother, We’ve been in a most bitter fight today. Victory will be ours as soon as a brutal snowstorm lifts and offers my company its due. Our resolve is solid and my discharge is imminent yet I wanted to let you know my heart is already home. I am not afraid and I love you. For how can I be sure I shall see again the world on the first of May? Your loving son, James
I'm nobody! who are you? Are you nobody too, then there's a pair of us. Don't tell! they'd advertise you know. How dreary-to be somebody. How public-like a frog. To tell one's name-the livelong June, to an admiring bog. Poem by Emily Dickinson.