Morning Scene from the Window

Day 16 of NaPoWriMo.  Missed finishing the poem yesterday.  Today’s prompt is to write a terzanelle – which combines aspects of villanelle and terza rima. Where I thought I needed the poem to flow a little better in places, I took slight liberties with the form.  I also went with the alternate couplet route in the final quatrain.

Sunshine seeping thru the leaves,
dewdrops watering the field,
shadows dancing on the eaves,

gentle breeze getting distilled,
birds making homes in the trees,
dewdrops watering the field-

filtered moisture from breeze.
Sunshine sweetening the deal-
birds making homes in the trees,

branches joining in with zeal,
hummingbird flutters its wings,
sunshine sweetens the deal.

Robin strutting on lawn, sings
an ode to the sun and spring,
as hummingbird flutters its wings,

and more birds chime in and sing,
an ode to the sun and spring.
Sunshine seeping thru the leaves,
shadows dancing on the eaves.
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In My Footstep

Day 11 NaPoWriMo prompt was a doozy.  It was to write a poem in Sapphics, which is attributed to Sappho.  A poem in Sapphics is usually written in quatrains, where the first three lines have eleven syllables and the fourth has five.  But, that just isn’t it.  It follows a strict meter where the first three lines include two trochees (“a two-syllable foot, with the first syllable stressed, and the second unstressed”), then a dactyls (‘a three-syllable foot, with the first syllable stressed and the remainder unstressed’), followed with two trochees.  “The fourth line is a dactyl, followed by a trohcee.”  Does that have everyone’s head spinning?  Mine did too.

Yesterday I did not get to a poem, but ended up writing 2 quatrains today.  So I will claim for Day 11 and one for Day 12.  But, though, I have a 11-11-11-5 syllables quatrain, I did not meticulously check the meter, as I a matter of fact, I am certain I have violated the stressed and unstressed syllables.  I think I am meter challenged.  Oh well.

In My Footstep

Cross-legged on rusted chair, flexing his old
arthritic hands, reading the newspaper half-
focused, half-worried if his wayward son will
takeover his trade.

Day 12 is a companion piece to this.