#Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…

Colleen’s 2020 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 184, #SpecificForm

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

It’s the fifth Tuesday of the month! This is our chance to work with a specific syllabic poetry form. Take this opportunity to learn more about the particular form.

This week’s form is:

Haibun


I shall build my home high above the trees on flat mountain rock. Where family may come if they want to follow. Sunday lunch as before, I wait to hear their knock on my door…

My castle built, stands

Cold inside I sit waiting

No knock do I hear…

©anitadawes 2020

This is Anita’s first Haibun, and we both hope it is correct…

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…

Colleen’s 2020 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 182 #PhotoPrompt

Image by Huda Nur from Pixabay

Look
into
my green eyes
I’m in disguise
My true form hidden
Guarded by evil witch
Aurelia’s cold dark hand
Holds my soul in black granite rock
Merlin’s my name, whispered on the wind
or love of Arthur, you can set me free…

©anitadawes 2020

You can tell that Colleen loves cats!


Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge…

Colleen’s 2020 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 180, #Poet’sChoice

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

It’s the first of the month and you know what that means! Poets, choose your own syllabic poetry form, theme, words, images, etc. It’s up to you!


Image by Ruth Archer from Pixabay

Red Sails in the Sunset…

From
Snow-capped
Mountains white
To cold open seas
My red sails billow
Passing folk wave me by
My days filled with sunshine smiles
nights diamond bright to dream by
Its you that fills my sleeping moments
Your hand forever in mine, life complete…

©anitadawes 2020

#Writephoto ~ Painted #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Painted #writephoto

 

This week Sue Vincent has chosen a rather lovely image for the prompt.

Shades of Monet there, I think…

 

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a rather oriental red bridge over a  pool covered with waterlilies and surrounded by trees.

 

Woodland Scent

What lies beyond the red bridge?

Tantalising, teasing, a sound calling me

Daring me to fight my way through the trees

I cross over the shining lily pond

Following the sweet melancholy sound

Of someone singing

Their sorrow filled the air

I felt it, a delicate touch

A small hand brushing against my skin

The scent of woodland must be messing with my head

I reach a clearing where a large tree had fallen

I sat awhile, the strange sound surrounding my head

Again, the touch on my arm

There she sat, beside me

Her eyes the colour of moonlight

Her hair, fallen snow, so delicate

One touch would crush her

I dare not move for fear she would vanish

So beautiful a wood nymph

As any painter would wish to put on canvas

I thought of Monet

How well she would look on his lily pond

Her tiny frame would not look out of place

Realising that the singing had stopped

I remember thinking I had not seen her mouth moving

Her words entered my head

You must save the woodlands

We are many, unseen by human eyes

We need the trees to protect us, to live…

With one last touch against my skin, she vanished.

My mind turned upside down

As I walked back across the bridge

Turning to take one last look

I swear I could see her sitting on a lily pad…

©anitadawes 2020

 

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge

Colleen’s 2020 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 178 #PhotoPrompt

 

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

It’s the third week of the month! Time for a #PhotoPrompt

 

Image Credit: Balaji Malliswamy

 

In

nightmares

The sharp eye

of a hunter

follows my shadow

beside the riverbank

Through damp green jungle foliage

If I should slip, lunch would be served

Damp earth slipping beneath my feet

I wake before the sharp teeth can take hold…

©anitadawes 2020

#Writephoto ~ Dance #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: Dance #writephoto

 

Sue Vincent is the host of Thursday Photo Prompt

Image by scvincent.com

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a pale sun piercing the mists above a green path through a golden field, leading into the centre of a circle of stones.

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They Dance

Our star hung colourless

Unable to pierce the grey mist.

As I walked, the green path

with golden fields flanking my sides

I could feel the loneliness

The empty forgotten dance.

For a moment, I wanted to stop

Walk back leave these grey stones

With their ancient memories.

That thought compelled me

To walk on into the circle of stones.

I could barely make out the bank of growth

along the skyline. The mist hung thick

as I entered the stones

I lost the feeling of loneliness.

Replaced by a knowing

I was waiting for something to happen

No, not something, someone

To come back through the mist.

She came towards me

A dark-haired beauty wearing

a white dress that reached the ground

Her arms held out towards me

Before I left the stone circle

I danced with an angel…

©anitadawes 2020

 

writephoto