And we’re off with “Greener Grass”(National Poetry Month ’16 – Day 2)

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P1000802

Photo © 2016 by V. Nesdoly

Greener Grass

The discontented colt
longing for neighbor’s luscious grass
turns envy green.

“Count blessings,” Mother
says. “We’ve clover daisies, dandelions
and green grass!”

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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And we’re off!

The poem above is my poem for April 1st. I’m even posting it here and linking it to The Poem Farm, because this is a Wonderopolis-inspired poem, following the challenge Amy LV set herself and invited us to join in.

To do these poem-a-day challenges, I use a variety of prompts. A document with links to Poetic Asides, NaPoWriMo, Adele Kenny‘s blog and now also Wonderopolis, sits  on my desktop. Every morning I check all four, collect the prompts and the let the ideas stew. Later in the day, when I find the time, I compose a poem. It may be based on one or a combination of several of the prompts, or something else entirely.

The subject for the above poem came from Wonderopolis. The lune form was the suggestion of NaPoWriMo.

(This is a word-count, not a syllable count lune—a Collom Lune [though the NaPoWriMo post describes it differently—5-3-5 words—than all the other sites I consulted which say a Collom Lune consists of 3-5-3 words]. This is a 3-5-3 word lune.)

Houston Trail – Langley BC

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mossy branch arcs over water

“…branches arc…”

Houston Trail – Langley BC

Peacock ferns, prehistoric, lush
draw us into the dim, cedar-canopied wood.
Uprooted trunks sprawl, branches arc,
snapped limbs leap in frozen pirouettes.
Slim apparitions forever grope, reach, grasp
a menagerie of many-appendaged moon monsters
sculpted from dripping filigree
and moss macramé.

Victim of the spell
in Mother’s warning:
“If you frown like that
your face will stay that way,”
the forest’s pose is fixed.
But time has softened the arboreal grimace
muffled the keening of the wind
with hangings of verdant chenille,
knitted blankets, sweaters,
hats and gloves of lime angora
for the slumbering
arms, stumps and claws.

© 2004 – Violet Nesdoly

mossy branch

“…apparitions forever grope, reach, grasp…”

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I live near rainforest. Some of my favorite walks are through woods beside the Fraser River. I’ll never forget the first time I walked the Houston Trail—a loop walk through the most mossy woods I’ve ever seen. It looked like a forest minefield draped in green. The poem above is my memory of that walk.

On Sunday I walked another trail near that one and again moss was everywhere. I wrote the poem some years ago. I took the photos on Sunday.

poetry+friday+button+-+fulllThis poem is part of Poetry Friday, hosted today by Greg at GottaBook