Rags to riches

Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star’d at the Pacific — and all his men
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise —
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

A wealthy man who wears the finest clothes

If threaded silk became a woven scarf
revealing wealth to

How can it be a crime?
To try and set words to rhyme
like a clock about to chime
In time, in time...

But where to start, where to begin?
Should this poet write from within?
Which words to be chosen to stand in?
My thoughts locked in, my thoughts locked in...

Now that I must think and strain
This effort is causing me such pain
But I cannot refrain
My mind I train, my mind I train...

But now I have started, I have a will
I must carry on and not be still
I need to finish and have my fill
No rest until, no rest until...

This task I must continue to bear
And try and write with some flair
A task to be given some care
Take away my blank stare, take away my blank stare...

a white bright feather drifts
upon a morning sea-salt mist
below each wave reaches to risk
to drown the wisp, to drown the wisp

a waft of warmth creates a draft
before a wave devours her mast

Monotetra:
A form created by Michael Walker. A poem written in quatrains, with each stanza mono-rhymed. The fourth line of each stanza must be repeated (dimeter phrase) The poem thus has a song like quality.

........

...

A Robin sings
throughout the year
his feathers
red and brown
He knows his song
Will travel clear
a chirpy little sound

Conversation drifts freely, blending into the bright rays of a January day. Behind a trail left by snug boots leads to entrance gate to Alver Valley. As they watch their dogs chase the falling flakes a red breasted bird sings.

they hug close
whilst their dogs dance
to bird song

My heart sings
each time

***************
Ben, here is the layout. Please alter/add to it as you see fit. I've started:

Title -

Q1-

So far away from scented meadows deep
I feel the pull of nature's river still
Escape, I must, this madness that I keep
Return now to those perfumed swelling hills

(missing that long slender valley, woods and hills. Mention perfumes, gently cooling streams)

Q2 - how will I get back. Getting back...

I dream the concrete streets are luscious vales -
This journey back has strengthened my resolve.
The love I have for seas and lakes prevails;
This bond with all that's bleak has now dissolved

Q3 - now I'm back, I'll make up for lost time

Again I shall behold sweet symmetry
A scape familiar as I lay me down
In quenching pool i ease myself with thee
A place my bones can rest on sacred mound

RC - summary

...................
A delivery driver from Liberia delivering what we thought were drugs. Funny funny. Though we don't know why?

....................
when Blackbird sings (rondeau)

When blackbird sings a song for him
from snowy perch all crisp and trim,
he sings of love from warmer days
when clouds were gazed from where we lay
that's where our love did first begin...

Now Spring is here and still he sings
those notes evoke dark skies they bring
Your face returns with summer haze...
When blackbird sings

The drought this year has burnt all things
like chard remains to us I cling
I pray for rain to wash away
these memories so darkly grey
but how to free these oily wings
when blackbird sings?

.

- Mr. Darcy
© 2018

.

A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short - a refrain (R) consisting of a phrase taken from line one. The other lines are longer (but all of the same metrical length).

...........
Coma

Consciousness returned
to my sons eyes as my prayers
were answered today
................

The angels cry from clouds up high
The day a little baby died
The light it burned not very long
Its shimmer faded then was gone
Just like a final breath, oh why?

Within a circle

Upon the light one moonlit night
I saw a fairy all in white
I hid behind an old oak tree
I hope she had not spied on me

No, fairy made no sign, I said
Oh, so she rare and hair so red
she danced upon a zephyr
Her wee dress made of a feather

I grabbed my heart and I was free
To where she danced did make me flee
I stood and made to walk away
without this love could I still stay

was love my only chance the moon
I hoped again I’d see her soon
I looked * to the *
*there the * did * out *

Upon * one * night
I saw a * all *
I * behind an *
* hope * had not * me

No * made no * said
* so * and hair so *
* danced upon a *
* dress made of a *

I * my * and * was *
To where * did * flee
* stood and * to walk *
without * could * stay

was * my * the moon
* hoped again I’d *
I looked * to the *
*there the * did * out *

..................
When blackbird sings a song for him
from snowy perch all crisp and trim.
He sings of love from warmer days,
when clouds were glazed from where we lay,
...that's where our love did first begin.

Now Spring is here and still he sings;
those notes evoke dark skies they bring -
Your face returns with summer haze...
when Blackbird sings.

The drought this year has burnt all things,
like chard remains, to us I cling.
I pray for rain to wash away,
these memories so darkly grey,
but how to free these oily wings...
when Blackbird sings?

Beneath blood moon the souless prowl
they stretch their necks and start to howl
for while the town is sleeping so
There's something really they should know
Will this night end, if, when and how?

Each door is shook
..............

Bon voyage
you're sailing
Upon the seven seas
Bon voyage
You're hailing
white wings of Galilee

Your shore leave here
Was special
Your time on land
Was blessed

A pretty girl
Did land her
Dashing sailing man

Bon voyage
you're sailing
Upon the seven seas
Bon voyage
You're hailing
white wings of Galilee
........

Bee found sleeping
Beneath a polyanthus leaves
Placed leaves back

Fingers discovered
a bumblebee, lying still
Polyanthus leaf
.........

High Street litter
blows like a dirvish
past a lonely doorway

Time stagnates
Imperceptible
flea-festered tramp
and the blinkered-brothers

Listen:
to his snuffling snores
as they drift
red raw and blistered sore
half choked and soaked
in dreams
Before that dusty light
snuffed out his sight

The baylifts left
Taking the stock
The money
The lot

But not
the dreams
his snuffling had beens
those sunnier days
when shoppers would pay
for milk and eggs
And daily veg

The smile was free
Upon his face
A happy place

......................

Exbury gardens in late May (haiku)

beside fish filled pond
fly chaffinches sweeping up
our picnic litter