Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Monday, December 22, 2014

Monday's measly minutes #7

Dear Monday,

I participated in December poetry slam : Tritinas.
Of the two prompts given to me, I have attempted one. On a workMonday, I could afford only these many measly minutes. Plus the skepticism about trying a totally new thing.

But I liked the format so I will try the other set soon.

On with the prompt set: Christine Hanolsy suggested the following set for me: dark, wind, gold.

And here's my very first Tritina:

Only if you were not a dream of dark
Winter night; I would have told the wind,
To call you back; Bonding beneath the sliver of silvery gold.

But when the skies were stained a sparkling gold,
All I had with me were wrinkled reminders from dark,
And some lilting sussarations of the cold moist wind.

Slowly the leaves and straws scattered in the wind,
With the wind. Slowly, through you I turned to gold,
Burning yet satiated, Like fireflies in the dark.

Like a wanderer's homecoming from the dark, like a sparrow in sweeping strong wind, like a moth drawn to amber gold, I too surrendered.

So while you figure out what I did here, my Monday clock is asking me to move on to the next thing in the list.

Welfare unto all ...

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.