Fran Haley is a K-12 literacy educator, wife, mom, and Franna of two little girls. She savors the pastoral life just outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. Writing is her favorite thing to do; she loves helping people of all ages fall in love with the craft. She authors the blog Lit Bits and Pieces: Snippets of Learning and Life.
Inspiration
Sometimes form gets in the way of a poem that wants to be written and the poet must discard it for another. Other times, the poet needs form for inspiration. The triolet is a form I’ve been tinkering with lately, as I love the musicality of its repeating lines and rhymes.
Triolets are small and powerful.
Read Triolets in the Argolid by Rachel Hadas and Triolet by Sandra McPherson to get a feel for the flow and how punctuation can be used to change meaning.
I find inspiration in nature most often, but I’ve also used a quote or photo to craft a triolet. A special person or event are good topics; I wrote a couple of triolets to commemorate my son taking my seven-year-old granddaughter to a father-daughter dance.
Process
The triolet has eight lines, but you only write five original ones:
1: original line
2: original line
3: original line – end word rhymes with line 1 end word
4: repeat line 1
5: original line – end word rhymes with line 1 end word
6: original line – end word rhymes with line 2 end word
7: repeat line 1
8: repeat line 2
Fran’s Poem
Round Yon December by Fran Haley
for Grandma Ruby
born the day after Christmas
died the day before Christmas Eve
Come December, I’m remembering you
in the lights and silent night
—our time, like snow and feathers, flew.
Come December, I’m remembering you
at sight of ruby-red cardinals, too,
on wings of the morning, where all is bright…
come December, I’m remembering you
in the lights and silent night.
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Thanks for introducing me to this form, Fran. It definitely stretched me and I decided not to adhere to it perfectly. 🙂
Upon Moving
Sure, there are some things I’ll miss about Texas
The wildflowers mostly and bonnets of blue
What I won’t miss, though, is always missing you.
Sure, there are some things I’ll miss about Texas
The warm winter and equinoxes
The proximity of neighborhood parks too.
Sure, there are some things I’ll miss about Texas
What I won’t miss, though, is always missing you.
Fran, this was very hard. It took me some time to process, but I persevered.
Place of Honor
The tables adorned and beautifully set.
My placement previously reserved.
Accepting the invite, I do not regret.
The tables adorned and beautifully set.
A fun night of honor I won’t soon forget.
Always humbled by the accolades I get.
My placement previously reserved.
Last night, my district, Arlington ISD, held a banquet to honor those who had been selected as Teacher of the Year for their respective campuses.
And I still messed it up. Oh Well I tried, and I’m proud of that.
Fran, I’ve learned an new poetry form today. Thank you a prompt that gave me time to start processing headline grabbing shootings of late. I’ll never understand them.
How can we end these shootings now?
Three young people shot due to an error
Ringing a doorbell was nearly fatal, wow?
How can we end these shootings now?
Pulling into the driveway ends in death, how?
Not your car, not you are face terror
How can we end these shootings now?
Three young people shot due to an error
DeAnna,
The fact that so many of your lines are questions is so appropriate, given the topic. It is a question that cannot be easily answered–unless we are willing to confront the disinformation and implicit and explicit biases that are far too common right now.
DeAnna, this poem and the repetition of the important questions reflect my own thoughts and feelings on this issue. I like that you use the word “how” to emphasize that we need change!
Fran, thank you for introducing me to a new form.
I’m not super proud of this one but here goes:
I am in love with fairytales
That take me to magical places,
Where dragons roam and danger prevails.
I am in love with fairytales
In which the prince fumbles and fails
And the warrior ‘damsel’ saves their cases.
I am in love with fairytales
That take me to magical places.
Saba,
Lovely ode to the magic of fairytales.
Fran, thank you for the opportunity to try a Triolet! I always enjoy a poetry puzzle and usually am pleasantly surprised by the outcome!
Losing nights
There are endless nights when
we sit alone in the dark and
I imagine when I’ll yearn for this again.
There are endless nights when
your small body is nuzzled in—
I just want the world to still and stand.
There are endless nights when
we sit alone in the dark.
Oooh yes. Those nights that seem “endless” do end, way too fast! I love: “I imagine when I’ll yearn for this again” and “I just want the world to still and stand.” I’ve had those exact thoughts (in probably less poetic terms haha). The triolet form worked perfectly to give your poem the “endless” feel.
Laura, this is both lovely and poignant. The vision of you there in the dark holding your little one and wanting the world to “still and stand” – it pulls on the heartstrings. Makes me recall the sayings about not wishing time away. I am so glad you like the form!
Fran, I set out to write about my new grandson, but my heart tugged me toward his mother–the third of my six children–who did not always get enough of the mother she deserved. I don’t think the poem makes sense without explanation (which means, I think, the poem isn’t yet stable–), but I appreciated the opportunity it gave me to think about how holding/loving my daughter’s child–when my relationship with her is still rocky–is both wonderful and painful.
I held your mother next to me
we warmed each other skin to skin
through January 1990
I held your mother next to me
the precious sandwiched number three
child of mine–please let me in–
I held your mother next to me
we warmed each other skin to skin
I love where this form took you tonight. Some of my favorite poems are the ones I didn’t know I had in me. I appreciate your honesty here. Those beautiful new babies bring out a lot of emotions!
Allison,
Your poem is touching, especially in the context of your honest introduction. We moms do look back and see our shortcomings. I hear you and see you in the “did not always get enough of the mother she deserved” confession, I’ve been having similar experiences w/ my son and new baby.
Awww, Allison, what a heart-felt poem that I’m sure was not easy to put on paper. I know the struggles too and I hope your daughter knows how deeply you love her and one day I am sure she will understand how hard it is to do everything right for every child. I applaud you, Allison. SIX CHILDREN! Lordie beeee! I told my sister after my second the third would have to find its own way in life. LOL.
I want to hold on to this the same way you held her and your grandbaby:
Hey, in my defense, the unplanned 5th baby turned out to be twins! (Truly the Zeus-zap gift of my life!)
Allison, first of all congratulations on your new grandson! He is adorable. I love how you addressed the poem to him and the focus of the “skin to skin” provides a marvelous connection. The “please let me in line” resonates with your motherly love. Pure aching love and joy pour out through your fantastic triolet! Lovely!
Allyson – The repetitions reinforce the ache that’s there. “Let me in” helps us share some of the burden, simply because we understand the struggle of a mom and her daughter . And now you hold on metaphorically. That is what mothers do, right? “Skin to skin” is a phrase that evokes both touch and the bond of “kin” in the “skin.” Good choice. Hugs, Susie
Allison, the plea of this line especially pulls on the heart: “Child of mine – please let me in-” it is just a few words but so full of ache and longing. It is an aside, addressed to your daughter, while speaking to and savoring your grandson, whom I envision in your arms, skin to skin, as you and his mother once were. That repeated line “I held your mother next to me” is so effective – deeply moving. That you are there to savor your grandson – that your daughter welcomes it – is such a wonderfully hopeful sign for your relationship! What a loving, piercing poem – thank you.
Fran–this was hard! I had to scroll through my camera roll for inspiration–and the photo still says more than the words to me. But this form is something I think I will try again. There is something about “rules” that can push ideas in ways that are unexpected. Thanks for the challenge!
Sea Reflections
when I look into the mirrored surface today
sea echoes in my ears and in the roll of the waves
in my eyes reflects every shade from teal to blue to steely gray
when I look into the mirrored surface today
whispers I hear in the outlines of egrets, whistles of shorebirds, briny tickle in my nose…it’s here I’m called to stay
my heart beats to the rhythm, nature’s melody rings clear, it is this wild wet place my soul craves
when I look into the the mirrored surface today
sea echoes in my ears and in the roll of the waves
Blog post with photo: https://thinkingthroughmylens.com/2023/04/18/a-triolet-npm23-day-18/
Kim, I too am drawn to forms that constrain me. You said it well with “push ideas in ways that are unexpected.” The “rules” force me to hone in on my intent, PUSH against a wall to see where I am. Thank you.
And your poem: You brought the sea (and the birds, and the “briny tickle in my nose”) up close to me here in land-locked Iowa. Ah, what a poem can do!
Beautiful imagery in this poem, Kim. I love those whispers!
Kim, I love your observation: “There is something about ‘rules’ that can push ideas in ways that are unexpected.” I agree – form can produce a diamond of a thing that might not exist otherwise. Pressure, shaping…and oh, what beautiful images in your poem! The pull of the sea, its colors, its rhythms – it’s there in your poem with those shorebirds (love!) and that briny smell – oh, now i am longing to be there, too. I keep playing with triolets – they are a bit of a challenge, and they, too, have a unique pull.
Franna! Does that mean grandma? (You look far too young!)
I was just outside of Raleigh (Wake Forest) last week meeting my first state-side grandchild! Thank you for introducing me to this form. I think I’ll write about Roger…back soon!
Sweet!
<3 It was!
What a dream!!! Congrats, Allison! Roger is adorable.
Allison – yes, “Franna” is my grandma name! I live right outside of Raleigh and am in Wake Forest several times a week – you were so close by. Oh, my gracious – your grandson is absolutely gorgeous!
Uncomfortable Luxury
By Mo Daley 4/18/23
Solitude is an uncomfortable luxury
Why do I feel guilty savoring time alone?
It helps me escape the drudgery
Solitude is an uncomfortable luxury
But it is much needed for recovery
Precious time on my own
Solitude is an uncomfortable luxury
Why do I feel guilty savoring time alone?
Solitude is a luxury for sure, Mo – I often crave it, and often feel uncomfortable for it. I have almost gotten over thinking it selfish, as it truly is recharging to hear your own thoughts, to conserve a little energy, to keep from being completely drained…”it is much needed for recovery,” indeed! I needed this poem, this day – thank you.
Mo,
You and I must be wired similarly. Solitude is essential to my wellbeing as I exist in a career full of noisy people. So yes, why does it feel like “an uncomfortable luxury”? It is precious indeed. Thank you for writing!
I love the way this form made your message so strong! “Precious time on my own”–definitely a must rather than a luxury!
Mo – I feel that tugging… “guilty savoring “ and it is a very real contradiction. You ask a question that all of us here know too well. Susie
First, let’s just pause and enjoy the oxymoron of Uncomfortable Luxury. Bravo.
But then we see the luxury is the most elemental: a feeling even billionaires must long for: precious, precious time alone.
I loved your rich rhyming: drudgery/luxury/recovery.
I hope writing this reminded you to afford yourself the luxury of your own solitude.
This was a thought-provoking poem for me. Thank you.
Mo, thank you for this poem. I should carry it around in my pocket as a reminder that solitude is well earned and needed. The refrain of “uncomfortable luxury” is perfect.
Thank you Fran, for the beautiful Christmas time imagery and sweet reflection of Grandma Ruby.
As I was driving home today from school, I thought “there’s got to be a poem in this place!” After I got home, I thought that sounds like something I’ve heard before and indeed I have. Check out Amanda Gorman’s poem if you have the chance which inspired this one.
There has to be a poem here
between the pages of a day,
or behind truant’s sneer.
There has to be a poem here
underneath the Expo’s smear
or before snickers in the hallway.
There has to be a poem here
between the pages of a day.
Rachelle, what a treasure of a poem! And a lovely connection to Gorman, a bit of borrowed poem-thread with which to weave this completely new and different triolet. It flows so beautifully, line to line – and oh, are there ever poems behind the truant’s sneer and the Expo’s smear!
Rachelle,
This is awesome! You capture the feeling of teaching all day and brain-switching to write a poem. “Truant’s sneer” is spot on, but mine were more entitled and arrogant. Sigh. I most especially love your first (and last) two lines.
Oh my goodness. Rachelle, have I told you lately how much you inspire me as a poet/teacher/person? I am again and again grateful that our life paths crossed! (Ready to move back to Iowa?) This poem has such an edible rhythm–coupled with strong, intentional diction. Indeed, there IS a poem here! <3
Rachelle, I love the way your poem takes multiple facets of the day of a teacher and somehow shines the light on the beauty of being human even if it’s a hard moment.
Rachelle,
I love how you’ve captured a teachers day here. I enjoy the visual of the words “Expo’s smear” there seem to be many of those through the day in different classrooms. Thank you for sharing.
Fran — Thank you for introducing this new form. Today, I’m lamenting the crazy weather in Cleveland.
Yesterday, I stepped out into rollercoaster weather
where a slate gray sky dropped fat wet flakes
Its April, I don’t want to wear this itchy wool sweater
Yesterday, I stepped out into this rollercoaster weather
Just last week it was 80 degrees and so much better
as orange and red wavelengths spread across the lake
Yesterday, I stepped out into this rollercoaster weather
Where a slate gray sky dropped fat wet flakes!
Tammi, my family in the midwest were telling me the same story. How awful I thought the snow would be over! The imagery and juxtaposition of seasons in this poem sure emphasizes the confusion of this type of weather. Rollercoaster is the perfect metaphor. Cheers to Spring!(?)
Oh, Tammi – the fickle weather is so frustrating! When I was growing up, the area where I lived didn’t get a lot of snow, but the biggest of all came in mid-April when I was in high school. Just unheard of. Love the change in punctuation to emphasize the emotion at your poem’s end. I could so see that colorful, inviting lake…here’s to the end of cold, wintry weather SOON!
Wow! That definitely sounds like a rollercoaster! I like the way the form expresses your dismay so succinctly!
Tammi, you’ve captured the same weather I’m experiencing. I love the color within your poem and the sensory appeal of the rollercoaster ride. Your triolet moves effortlessly like a welcome breath of spring.
Summer Dreaming
I long to walk the Jamaican shore
Soft white sand comforting bare feet
Sun and saltwater how I adore
I long to walk the Jamaican shore
Beachfront massages while waves roar
Swim, sleep, dreams so sweet
I long to walk the Jamaican shore
Soft white sand comforting my bare feet
©Stacey L. Joy, April 18, 2023
Stacey,
I long for all this, too — “sun and saltwater” and “dreams so sweet” . How the place can assuage concerns another place cannot. Wishing you white sand for your bare feet!
Sarah
Oh, this is seductive – I, too, want to walk this soft sand. Lovely the way these lines roll, repeat, how fun this triolet form is!
It’s been a school year, and I could use a walk on the beach. The sensations of “soft white sand” and “massages” do give me a sense of relaxation and comfort even though I am not on the beach. Thanks for taking me with you, if just in this poem.
Stacey, I would love “to walk the Jamaican shore,” and your words are enticing and calling. This year has been quite difficult; can’t wait for the break. Your descriptions of leisurely time is so relaxing, especially that “Soft white sand comforting my bare feet.” Thank you for another poem of Joy 😊
Stacey – now I am longing to walk the Jamaican shore with my feet in the soft white sand! I can almost dissolve right here in your poem, in the utter relaxation emanating from it. A beautiful and beckoning triolet of escape… I am more than a little wistful for it!
I appreciate your prompt! But your comment makes me want to change the title to TRIOLET, TAKE ME AWAY! 💙
That title is hilarious but perfect!!
Mmm-mmm, I’m ready for some if that! The sounds of your rhyming words even have a soothing sound. I’ve not been to Jamaica… I’m ready! I hope you get there soon, Stacey. Until then, your poem will take you there. Hugs, Susie
Stacey, your “soft white sand comforting my bare feet” put me there with you. Thank you for this beautiful image.
Stacey, I love this and hope that you are prepared to bring us all along IRL as you have brought us all along through your words! My toes curled as I read the line about sand comforting my feet. Thank you for this gem.
Fran, thank you for hosting today and challenging us with a triolet. Sometimes shorter poems seem more difficult because each word carries so much meaning. I like your poem to remember Grandma Ruby. It is so touching.
I decided to write about flowers and spring today to welcome renewal and some positive changes.
First Spring Tulips
Draped with petals of velvet lace,
the first tulips in red, white, and yellow
make a spectacular entrance.
Draped with petals of velvet lace,
they announce spring’s presence—
the winter’s over; come and say “hello.”
Draped with petals of velvet lace,
the first tulips in red, white, and yellow…
Leilya, this is beautifuł! I can almost feel the texture of the tulips; “draped with petals of velvet lace” so captures the splendor of these flowers on their grand entrance. They seem like royalty. And so welcome after the long winter.
Leilya,
Gorgeous descriptions. I see these tulip brides walking down the aisle. Love the personification and the color imagery. I do wish spring would arrive.
Love the beauty of your poem, Leilya. Your title is the perfect invitation, and I love the “velvet lace” descriptor as this is perfect when describing a tulip. I can imagine a garden full of tulips waving happily while reading your gorgeous poem! Thank you!
Leilya,
Your poem is so rich and luscious. I can almost smell it! Gorgeous descriptions and just the right lines for repetition.
🌷
Leilya,
That first line is beautiful in image and sound “petals of velvet lace”. The soft “e” and the luscious “l”. Nice. This is the perfect form for that line because we get to swim in it three times!
Sarah
I love the repetition of “Draped with petals of velvet lace,” really underscoring nature’s bounty at this time of year. Such a beautiful season – and beautiful triolet!
Leilya,
I love the picture you painted of your “petals of velvet lace”. I have daffodils in my yard that are all bent and broken from yesterday’s snow! 🙁 Can’t wait for warmer weather.
Leila,
We were on the same page! I love the image of “petals of velvet lace.” My tulips are just budding, so I’ll be reciting your poem to them to encourage them along. 🙂
“Petals of velvet lace”is so beautiful, and the personification here…”make a spectacular entrance” and the saying of hello. You have done it here: “each word carries so much meaning” Beautiful, Leilya.
Thank you for introducing me to this form, it reminds me of a pantoum. I went simple today because it was a busy day.
April showers bring a profusion of blooms
coloring the world after a long gray winter
–where the newest growth was mushrooms
April showers bring a profusion of blooms
and the students escape from classrooms
before their minds begin to splinter
April showers bring a profusion of blooms
coloring the world after a long gray winter
Hi, Cara, we are both channeling spring today. I, too, had a busy work day. Just like you, I need a brighter world “after a long gray winter.” Have a restful evening.
I’m a big fan of the pantoum, too, Cara! I’ve written more of those and you are right – the triolet is reminiscent. The wit in your lines is the perfect touch – the newest growth was mushrooms and students escaping classrooms before their minds begin to splinter. These are unexpected and true – and they make your triolet bloom!
Cara, escape they do! I love the surprise of mushrooms – against the backdrop of the profusion of blooms!
Cara,
That phrase “profusion of blooms” has a cool sound and image that also sounds like “perfume” — or at last I smell that when I say the phrase. Perfect line for the triolet to bloom, bloom, bloom!
Sarah
The surprise of “–where the newest growth was mushrooms” is so fun…and a gray surprise, I think, after this long gray winter. Sweet triolet!
Cara — I can’t wait to escape from the long gray winter, too!
The “profusion of blooms” is such a hopeful symbol after a “long gray winter”. I love the colorful imagery of your poem.
Cara,
This April feels like more showers than normal, but those blooms are beautiful. It is also true that as the days dry out we do seem to have more and more students escaping classrooms. I know some staff may want to escape as well, but they continue to show up for those same students. Thank you for sharing.
Fran, Thank you for this lovely prompt and your poem. I love the internal rhyming in your lines, a beautiful tribute to your grandma.
I’ve been away this week. This is my first time doing the challenge, and I’m having a hard time making time for this! I appreciate all of you so much–thankful for this space that I wanted to return to.
All City Orchestra, Grades 5-12 on Senior Night
Bows dance gracefully in tidy rows,
Fifth graders’ feet dangling and eyes widening,
Wondering if they’ll ever make songs like those.
Bows dance gracefully in tidy rows.
Last song: “Ode to Joy,” all the groups propose
Parents’ cameras clicking and our time tightening
Bows dance gracefully in tidy rows,
Fifth graders’ feet dangling and eyes widening.
Brenna, I’m so glad you made it back to write this lovely poem, full of vivid images and palpable energy. I feel the awe of the fifth graders for the older students’ orchestral ability. “Ode to Joy” just ties it all together like a ribbon.
Beanna, I went to an all band festival for twenty years straight, I believe because my sons were that far apart in age. I love how you make this such a wonderful event with the fifth graders’ feet dangling and their eyes widening. The last song is truly a delight.
Brenna,
It’s almost as if you are in my school with my fifth graders! Looking forward to the spring concert now that you’ve reminded me how special it makes them feel!
Sooooo lovely!
Brenna,
Love this “Bows dance gracefully in tidy rows”. I am seeing this as the fifth graders being capable of “gracefully” in one reading, imagining them playing this way with their eyes wide and feet dangling, and then in another reading I see them witnessing the “gracefully” in awe but making their feet mimic the dance of the bows. A fun, joyful poem of a concert scene.
Sarah
Love the juxtaposition of ‘bows dancing gracefully’ and ‘feet danging’ – how the repetition of this really captures these youth orchestra events in the most delightful way. Thank you for this!
Brenna,
I have three children all of whom were in the band and I remember those days when they were all so squeaky and we were all “Wondering if they’ll ever make songs like those.” I really is so cool to witness the growth over the years and hear the beautiful music they will make.
Brenna – such a sweet and “joy[ful]” image. Those kiddos and their bows. I love that. I have two nephews who are professional musicians. One plays viola and violin for the Houston Symphony. The other is a cellist and finishing up in Cincinnati Strings… not sure where he’ll go next. You piem took me to these loved ones. Thank you. Susie
Fran, thanks so much for hosting today. I love your triolet, the sounds, the images, the message are all poignant. Your grandmother’s entrance and exit dates are certainly unique.
Blindly Locked Away
across the battered land, savage skies cast a chill
where unforgiven souls are blindly locked away
can you hear their tortured souls shrieking still
across the battered land, savage skies cast a chill
no one hears their grieving songs, except the haunted copse on the hill
feel their silenced eyes calling through the gray
across the battered land, savage skies cast a chill
where unforgiven souls are blindly locked away
Barb Edler
18 April 2023
Ooo, Barb, the echos of sorrow are here. The “chill” and “I forgiven souls” take us to the darkness on “grieving songs.” I feel the woe and worry about the sense of entrapment in “locked away.” I hope the sunshine of today helps the healing. Love, Susie
Barb, this is fiercely haunting! It flows magnificently well. I shiver reading it (even in my wonder at your wordcraft) and I grieve that no one but the copse on the hill hears the grieving songs of unforgiven souls. The temperature in the room where I sit reading went chill just now – it really did. So powerful.
Barb,
Ypu are a master at writing these short form poems. This is brutal, hones, amazing. The repeated line magnifies the injustices of our so-called criminal justice system. And it’s an ironic commentary on the idea that “justice is blind.” I love everything about your poem. zits amazing.
Barb, your words create powerful and grim images of “savage skies.” You make me grief with you for those “unforgiving souls” that “are blindly locked away” and question who did or allowed this to happen. Your words are always chosen so carefully. Thank you!
Barb! Whew! I almost here, Alfred Hitchcock, speaking! So mysterious and bone chilling! Have you considered writing mystery novels? This is darn good!
These two lines back-to-back gave me such a chill –
In many of the nature triolets, it seemed to me that the repetition added a meditative quality…here, the repetition amplifies your powerful call to justice. Awesome triolet, Barb!
Barb,
The sorrow — “tortured souls shrieking” and
“no one hears their grieving songs” in your poem is palpable. So vivid and haunting!
Barb, your poetry goes where many of us dare not tread. You are a master at word choice, tone, and whatever it is that sends shivers up my spine when I read this poem. “can you hear their tortured souls shrieking still” Thank you for speaking out for those “Blindly Locked Away”
Today I received a rainbow heart doodle from one of my kindergarten students. It was a shaky heart with bumpy letters saying “i lv u”. It touched my heart. It was the inspiration for the poem below.
Crinkled Paper With Rainbow Heart
Crinkled paper with rainbow heart
a precious student gift
relationship rocky at the start
crinkled paper with rainbow heart
born from kindness on both our parts
attitudes did surely shift
Crinkled paper with rainbow heart
a precious student gift
Your poem is absolutely gorgeous and lyrical. Your triolet is a precious gift in itself. Truly lovely.
This is a perfect little triolet of love – that crinkled paper rainbow, a mighty metaphor! I can see it and feel the warmth it represents. Such a precious moment, gift, and poem.
How sweet! I always think about this kind of gifts as the best rewards for teachers. I am happy with you that “a rocky start” has resulted in “iI lv u.” Thank you for sharing this kind and beautiful moment.
“relationship rocky at the start” – I know this added such meaning to the gift, to recognize how far you’ve come. I admire how the relationship grew from hard work by both of you. Lovely triolet, lovely present!
Lovely! It doesn’t really take much to show appreciation, does it? Well, I appreciate your taking time to share this gift of thanks.
CM — Your poem made me smile. It’s moments like these that remind us why we teach.
Love, love, love! So much can be expressed in writing–by you and by your student!
Fledglings
outside the front door
the nest is filled with fledglings
for days I’ve watched a bird minding the nest
outside the front door
I noticed a few soft, fuzzy heads above the rim of the nest
and on Monday I watched a bird drop something into an open mouth
outside the front door
the nest is filled with fledglings
Jamie,
Ypur words paint a lovely picture of a bird feeding her little fledgling. Today Fran wrote a blog post about the finches that nest on her front foot season after season. I think you’d love reading it. There’s a little video that in many ways captures your poem, too. I do love all these bird poems.
Jamie, your words are so very near and dear to my heart!! Birds are a favorite topic of mine. House finches return every year to nest in my front door wreath and right now three of their five eggs have hatched. I am awed, watching them, and I relive it all here in your beautiful triolet that I absolutely love. Here is link to the post with the very short video of my hatching finches (as Glenda referenced), in case you’d like to see: https://litbitsandpieces.com/2023/04/18/for-my-finch-followers-hatching/
Birdies!!! Yea, Jamie, I LOVE these little birdies. Just made me smile. Thank you! Susie
Such a warm spring poem, Jamie! We, too, have a little nest on a side of a grape vine. Waiting for the eggs to hatch. It makes me feel so happy. Thank you for sharing!
What a special moment in nature you have captured here! Beautiful!
[My dear friend drove to the federal building downtown this morning and became an official citizen of the United States. Our country truly did a bit of healing today. In honor of Rigo Ramirez. Susie]
PARA RIGO RAMIREZ: THE U.S. HEALED A LITTLE TODAY
Mi querido amigo took the oath today;
dijo la promesa, hizo el voto;
se unió al país this very Tuesday;
mi querido amigo took the oath today,
despite the insanity de armas y politica at play;
pasó el examen y dijo que he’d be a citizen anyway;
mi querido amigo took the oath today;
dijo la promesa, hizo el voto.
by Susie Morice, April 18, 2023©
Susie,
First, congratulations to Rico, and a heartfelt thank you to him for being here, for his faith in the American Dream, for his participation in democracy. We are lucky to have him as a fellow citizen. I do love your triolet, especially the code-switching. It’s a glorious reminder of our shared language that is itself an amalgamation of many languages. Fantastic poem.
Susie, what a way to honor and welcome Rico to our country. And this line: “The US healed a little today” recognizes both the strength of Rico (he agreed to become a citizen despite the insanity!) and of our country because of those who come to be here. Your blending of languages nods to that strength too (I love that you did that!). Beautiful poem!
Wow, Susie – what a fantastic commemoration and tribute to Rigo! It IS healing to read of this, especially in the dual languages. I celebrate the moment alongside you while marveling at this beautiful poem.
Congratulations and welcome to Rico! I LOVE the way you blended Spanish and English in this poem–it creates a beautiful celebration of language. It’s great how the balance of Spanish and English changes line by line. Great internal rhyme with “dijo que” and “anyway.” Thanks for sharing this special piece!
Susie, I’m so happy for you and your friend. I know how difficult it is for someone to be a citizen as a good friend of mine had to go through this process. I’m sure I do not know every word here, but I think I get the gist. Way to showcase your language acquisition! Bravo!
Congratulations! So very wonderful. I love how you write in two languages – and the repetition of lines that the triolet specializes in, this amplifies the emotion of your poem. Beautiful triolet!
Susie, I love your poem. Have you shared it with Rigo? As an immigrant who took an oath too, I wish your dear amigo all the best in this country. The translanguaging is amazingly fitting here. Thank you!
Susie, such a beautiful poem for Rigo! Congratulations to him. I love the idea that in spite of the guns and politics, he’d be a citizen anyway. “The U.S. Healed a Little Today” to be sure. The promise holds even though we’ve lost our way for a while.
Thanks, Fran, for introducing me to a new pattern for writing. You know I enjoy rhyming and this one “REQUIRES” rhyme. 🙂 Or, shall I say, encourages…
Writing Under the Sun
Writing poetry can be fun,
Unless the prompt evokes tough times,
Unless in competition you happen to run.
Writing poetry can be fun.
I’m glad here we have every choice under the sun.
But sometimes poems evoke news about crimes.
Writing poetry can be fun,
Unless the prompt evokes tough times.
Boy, Anna, this is so true. Having all the choices gets us by the tough times/crimes and the competitiveness that stifles creativity. Your rhyme pattern helps emphasize the rhythm of your words, helping to add to that fun in the writing! I’m betting this poetry form was a natural fit for you too (at least it feels that way when I read your words today!).
Anna, I love your title and the truths in your triolet – it is a natural for you, for sure! I, too, am glad we have every choice under the sun here, for some prompts come so easy to some of us while others are hard; it is different for everyone, for are all different, and that is good. It is THE reason we need each other and each other’s poems! I am struck by how much that photo emphasizes the thinking and feeling evoked in your verse. You are always the whole package: all-in, all-seeing, heart all-open. Thank you for it all.
Anna, yes, some poems flow with joy while others do feel more difficult because of the message it shares. Your image perfectly illustrates your poem’s ideas.
Yes, you had fun with the rhymes, here. When the prompt evokes tough times, writing poetry becomes healing, I think. Loved your triolet!
Your Song
I tried to play your song again.
I felt it in my heart.
My fingers played the chords, then
I tried to play your song again.
I stumbled, ended with Amen!
Trying the best to do my part
I tried to play your song again.
I felt it in my heart.
The Triolet is fun! Thanks, Fran.
“I felt it in my heart.” Love this. I can imagine you trying to play a dear melody from memory.
Susan, your chosen line to repeat (I tried to play your song again) emphasizes the effort the narrator makes in trying to make it happen. I envision a nod to someone lost as the person plays in memory or perhaps a newer player trying a more complex song. I love “I felt it in my heart.” We feel it too!
Susan, your triolet is perfectly lyrical, a song in itself. I feel the longing and ache in it. The need to play “your song again” is so important for the speaker to keep trying. I am so glad you found the form fun! I do, too; I keep experimenting with it.
Susan – You captured something I’ve experienced as well. When a song hits your heart really hard, it is particularly difficult to play/sing. I “stumble” until I play it so often that I numb myself to the hurt. Music can transport me as powerfully as poetry. Your poem is a reminder of the power of our arts. Thank you. Susie
Susan, such a wonderful experience of trying “to play your song again” but stumbling and ending with Amen seems appropriate. Even in the trying, you “felt it in (your) heart” Beautiful!
She almost surrendered
we all do—almost. Serious
as it is to doubt our contribution,
she almost surrendered. With doubt
a soul risks the forever silence.
Doubts of purpose crush a soul:
she just wanted to be a contribution.
We are all a contribution.
Doubts of purpose DO crush souls, Sarah…risking the forever silence is tragic.There is, within each of us, so much to give. So much of it is what others need…like this poem. Thank you for it, for VerseLove, for all of this incredibly meaningful experience.
“With doubt
a soul risks the forever silence.”
This triolet is so thought-provoking – and affirming. “We are all a contribution.”
Sarah, I loved this sentiment and the empathy that shone through in it to the plight of the doubter. I could see this applying to writing, to VerseLove, to so many things in our lives where we are inhibited from acting!
Sarah, I feel such a heavy weight reading your poem. It’s incredible how much a group can impact an individual positively or negatively. That first line “She almost surrendered” is haunting. I also love the way you emphasize “souls risks the forever silence./Doubts of purpose crush a soul”. It’s been a difficult day here, and so maybe I’m adding more into this than I should, but it feels like a crusher-type of poem. Self-doubt can be difficult to overcome. Provocative and powerful poem!
Sarah,
Ive read this poem several times. Like Barb, I’m likely reading between the lines and drawing conclusions. Key word: Doubt. It’s the word of the day. Questioning: Contribution. I’m not sure of that last line in this moment in time. It’s too often for others to decide.
I love this concept! Thanks for sharing it.
The Final Frontier
We long to be released from Mother Gaia’s arms
Yet mere infants in the eyes of eternity
Why do we forget how she kept us from harm?
We long to break free from Mother Gaia’s arms
Children age and home loses its charm
When we realize the fragility of her security
We long to behold more than her arms
Stubborn children in the eyes of eternity.
She once was our entire universe
Until science peeked behind the curtain
Seemingly unable to break free of a curse
Expand cognition, expand the universe
Then we saw our miniscule worth
Infinitesimal, it seems for certain
That infinite is our mysterious universe
Can science look beyond the curtain?
That just makes us long for it more
To touch the intangible, the infinite
Just as sailors landed on distant shores
What will it take to be more
Like birds when we can’t soar?
Thinking truth is there within it
That just makes us long for it more
To touch the cosmos, the infinite.
Henry,
Welcome.
These lines strike an image I want to sit with for a while:
Sarah
There is something ominous about this poem, Henry, and I love it! Your words speak well of our humanity and our longing for more. Yet, we are fragile and may behold more than we can handle behind the curtain.
Henry, how you guide us to reach beyond with this form! Those opening lines about trying to break free of our earth mother/home are so true; we always crave “more.” The questioning, the peeking behind the curtain, the restless longing in our souls to touch the infinite – you capture it all so clearly, powerfully, lyrically.
Beautiful images of how we seek new frontiers,
“Thinking truth is there within it
That just makes us long for it more”
Henry, I just adore this! Love that you made it a series of triolet, and the rhetorical questions, personification, and figurative language made this just a delight to lose myself in!
Henry, a triple triolet! Better than a triple scoop of ice cream or a triple axle. You rocked it right out of the park today! Right into the cosmos.
Fran,
Thank you for hosting and giving an inspiration that has parameters. I need stretched like that.
I plan to write a more melodic, descriptive one, but for now, testing is on my mind.
High Stakes
State-mandated testing starts today.
The stress and the frustration are sky-high,
Teachers and students are filled with dismay.
State-mandated testing starts today.
We all really want it to go away.
To tell massive measurement bye-bye.
State-mandated testing starts today.
The stress and frustration are sky-high.
Susan,
Ain’t that the truth!
Never really thought state-mandated testing could be poetic but you sure made it so. Love the line – state-mandate testing starts today. We all really want it to go away.
Susan, Ugh. These tests are problematic on a whole host of levels; least of which, I realize, is just how tedious it is to watch students test all day, but, boy, oh boy, do I hate that. You (and your students) will make it through!….just so you can do it all over again next year….I’m sending you “good thoughts and vibes and whatnot,” so you don’t have to fill out any irregularity reports!
Ugh, Susan.
The triolet works well here with the repetition and how it feels like groundhog day with all this testing. Love that line “tell massive measurement bye-bye”– right? So long already.
Sarah
Succinct and powerful – love this lines ‘student-like’ goodbye at the end –
“To tell massive measurement bye-bye.”
Susan, it is perfect! Not to mention timely! Every single line begs the question when, when, WHEN will state-mandated testing go away? This is my favorite line of all: “To tell massive measurement bye-bye.” YES. PLEASE. Data points cannot tell the whole story of living, breathing beings…I will stop here or this will be a looonnng comment. Thank you for this true trials-of-testing triolet.
Susan,
I feel your — and your kids’ — pain! Great topic and terrific job crafting it into a lament.
Thank you, Fran! What a sweet form this is for capturing moments in nature. Thought I’d include my photo inspiration, as well.
water play
sun and shadow in water play
dancing bobbing moving
to happen upon this sight this day
sun and shadow in water play
honestly, it takes my breath away
the image all-consuming
sun and shadow in water play
dancing bobbing moving
I love the rhythm of this! The -ing constructions give your poem great, well, movement!
That is a perfect line to be repeated: “sun and shadow in water play” it describes the image so well! Lovely picture and I love the movement of second/last line!
Your poem makes me a bit jealous…wish I could have witnessed this play today. Your words – dancing, bobbing, moving- add the play like quality to these two elements of nature.
Maureen, you captured this image so well (both in the poem and in the photo)! I love the interplay of the sun and shadows upon the trees and the water; your “dancing bobbing moving” line depicts this so well. Thank you for the poem and the picture today!
Very creative intertwining multiple forces of nature. I appreciate how you molded the ordinary into the extraordinary. How shadow ( bad) , light (good) and water ( mediator). are all working together even when we are not there. Thank you this is awesome.
Oh, how lovely — the movement in the words and the way the gerunds to the work. The picture you add is a bonus!
Sarah
Maureen, you are right, the triolet is a wonderful form for capturing moments in nature, and you have done it so beautifully here. I love the title of your poem! I could see the images in my mind and feel their beckoning… the photo is an extra gift, and makes me want to be in this place. Such peace and wonder, here in the heart of nature. We need more of it – and of restorative lines like yours!
Maureen,
I love this poem doubly and need the warmth and green of the spring it celebrates because it is snowy and blustery here. Keep the spring coming. I’m living vicariously.
Maureen, what a gorgeous picture and a gorgeous picture your poem paints!
Maureen, The river is one of my favorite places to be, and your lines capture a water scene so beautifully. I love the repeated line “sun and shadow in water play–” it’s so active yet also so peaceful. You captured the essence of the photo perfectly!
I love your verb choices in this poem, Maureen, and thank you for sharing this marvelous photo. I love how you capture the essence of nature’s magic. “sun and shadow in water play” is definitely mesmerizing and so is your poem!
The movement of water is heard in the words, babbling, bubbling, trickling, rippling, dripping – as it dances, bobs, moves. You were blessed to happen upon this sight this day, and we are blessed that you shared the picture that inspired your words!
Maureen, your poem does a fine recreating the picture. We could feel the movement in the words you chose and arranged so skillfully personifying the elements of nature. Ah. Just luscious! Thanks for both the picture in both places.
Maureen, so lovely. The sound of your poem made me want to read it aloud. dancing bobbing moving and rhyming with all-consuming is spot on.
And this sweet aside that we hear from the witnesser:
Beautiful!
Fran, thanks for introducing us to this cool form! Here’s my attempt at a triolet today:
Breath of Earth
Wandering in woods, we found a spot
where, between a fissure in rocks, cold air breathed.
In these Alleghany hills, air thick and hot,
wandering in woods, we found a spot:
Time, we both forgot
scent of pine unsheathed –
Wandering in woods, we found a spot
where, between a fissure in rocks, cold air breathed.
“Time, we both forgot” – such a treat of a poem, Wendy, capturing this moment where time stood still a bit. Just lovely. And the title – ‘Breath of Earth’ – how I love that, too!
These lines are absolutely lovely: “wandering in woods, we found a spot:
Time, we both forgot” oh the joys of being able to forget about time!! <3
Your poem is full of calm. Reading it allowed me a release of tension as I imagined walking with you. “Scent of pine unsheathed” is a line that stood out to me.
Wendy,
That title is fantastic “Breath of Earth” and it calls for the poem that follows with the breath as “wandering” and the breath in the “fissure” and in the “cold air.”
Sarah
Just gorgeous, Wendy! I have wandered in the mountains and felt these natural air-conditioned places…such a fascinating phenomenon. Breath of Earth – love that – is is real and etheral all at once. These lines have me especially enchanted: “Time, we both forgot
scent of pine unsheathed –” -Magnificent. I love the whole meandering, primeval feel.
Your first two lines welcome your reader to this space. I paused wondering what lay beneath that fissure to allow the cold air to escape. And I love the 6th line – “scent of pine unsheathed” Having grown up in Georgia, I love the first breaths of piney air. There’s nothing like it.
Wendy,
This is a beautiful poem. A hike can result in “time we both forgot” as we lose ourselves in nature. I’m imagining putting my face into that fissure and breathing the cool air. Such a comforting and healing poem.
Beautiful poem, Wendy! I love the interplay between the landscape and the people in it. “We both forgot” and “we found a spot” remind us of the people in the space, but your second and last line show how the earth and this special space exist all on their own. Thanks for sharing it.
Wendy, every sense here is ignited – I can taste the pine as I smell it in the air, and feeling the cold in the fissure of the rock, it feels like an adventure of exploration, of discovery – – and finding a spot is like treasure on a map.
Wendy, beautiful poem with an inviting title: “Breath of Earth.” Is this really a phenomenon where you can find those spots?
I love the two shorter lines and how the last four lines read together. I especially like “Time, we both forgot” — It sounds like a beautiful wandering outing.
Denise, it is! And I don’t know what it’s called — Fran also commented on it above. I do know that it’s a fissure that goes so deep into the earth that it accesses cold air — when we breathed into the cold air, we could see our breath, though it was sweltering out — too cool!
Amazing!
Fran, thank you for another new form! I’ll have to play with a triolet again some other time. Great for cyclical themes and your mentor poem is a beautiful remembrance of Grandma Ruby. My poem is inspired by the increasing Kuwait heat and a phrase I thought was really weird to find on none other than a juice box. I know my line five doesn’t rhyme with line 1 but I liked it this way 🙂
The juice box says whispers of summer.
What a lie, here summer just shouts:
“I’M COMING OUT!” Better take cover.
The juice box says whispers of summer.
Nowhere to turn cuz the heat’s so loud.
Nowhere to turn, just stay in your house.
The juice box says whispers of summer.
What a lie, here summer just SHOUTS!
Love the all caps shout of “I’M COMING OUT!” Thanks for sharing that you are writing from Kuwait – I can only imagine the heat there, this time of year. Love that strange message on a juice box, and love this poem of yours!
Such a fun poem inspired by that darn juice box! Wish we had a little more of that summer heat here!! I love how you played with punctuation / capitalization to vary the repeating lines.
Angie, what a poetic exposé of the tales told on juice boxes! There’s not usually much transition from spring to summer here in NC but I know it cannot compare to the heat in Kuwait. I imagine it does scream – unbearably. Your triolet, however, is a truly refreshing delight! Thank you for it and for your gracious words.
This reminds me of visiting my bestie in Texas:
“Nowhere to turn cuz the heat’s so loud.”
Great synesthesia!
I agree with you about line 5! “Nowhere to turn cuz the heat’s so loud.” You’ve got the opposite of “whispers of summer.”
This is so funny, Angie. I know that would stick out like a sore thumb if you saw that allusion to summer in Kuwait. Yeah, there would be no whispers of summer. Kuwait is averages at least 10 degrees hotter than Bahrain! That is soooo loud!
Ohhhh! This is so fun, Fran. You are absolutely correct…sometimes having a structure or form for a poem is just what our writing brains need. And today, I needed that. This is very inviting. Thank you!
Basquiat’s Untitled (Head), 1981
Knit one yellow, knit six red
Pass the yellow under the red
To make a beanie for my head
Knit one yellow, knit six red
Knit six yellow, knit one red
Yellow under red is what I said
Knit one yellow, knit six red
Pass the yellow under the red
Wow this works so well with the form! I love how the process of knitting fit perfectly with the triolet! Awesome.
This is so so fun! You have taken the most delightful ‘snapshot’ of knitting, bringing me right into the action. I love the line “To make a beanie for my head.”
Amber, this works so well that it takes my breath! Its beats remind me of poems I loved as a child. I almost want o jump rope to it. Your triolet is an absolute jewel. And, pairing it with that priceless work of art, per the title – just stunning. Truly.
This is so cool, abstract, and imagistic — and I have to say that I’d never seen the painting, and it is sooo creepy!
The rhythm of rhymes like “knit one yellow, knit six red” mirrors so perfectly the needles in motion.
Fran,
First, your poem is beautiful, the imagery is befitting the remembrance of your Grandma and the symmetry of the form is an apt reflection of how your grandma came into the world and how she left.
…As for my attempt, I’ll have to give this another form another shot, because I just don’t have the stuff today. Like Bryan Crandall, I originally read the prompt as “Try a Toilet” at around 6 am–a toilet would be a fitting destination for what I wrote, but here goes…
As deadlines approach
Deadlines approach like lengthening shadows
as the sun falls towards the horizon-
There’s much to be done before shedding work clothes
Deadlines approach like lengthening shadows
And I lack a research team like Rachel Maddow’s
Give in to Chat GPT? I do have 5G on Verizon…
Deadlines approach like lengthening shadows
as the sun sinks towards the horizon
Dave, This flows with the beats we’re accustomed to reading from you (the hip hop influence, indeed). I paused to say, “shadows…clothes….shadows….clothes,” and fell in love with the rhyme. The 21st Century stuff, too: Maddow, GPT, and 5G bring an immediacy to the deadline, too. Love it.
I like the Chat GPT reference. Yes, those darn deadlines – your metaphor makes me think about that word DEADlines – so depressing. I like the difference in fall and sink by the end.
The rhyme of “shadows” with “Rachel Maddow’s” makes me smile!
Dave! It’s so clever! There’s a (justified) theme of educator despair today, re: deadlines, testing, all the unnecessary/necessary evils. These ARE lengthening shadows, at least for a time.On a lighter note: I am still laughing hysterically at y’all thinking the prompt was “Try a Toilet.” I get it, waking up, still groggy-eyed…but…what if…? Never mind! Probably not my next prompt. Thank you all for adding hilarity to my day and writing triolets instead of…well.
Bwahaha:
“And I lack a research team like Rachel Maddow’s
Give in to Chat GPT? I do have 5G on Verizon…”
Oh, this gave me a good laugh! Thanks, Dave!
Kansher
Ladybug on a black rose,
Ladybug weeps dark petals,
Your red love for me grows,
Ladybug on a black rose,
Your love for my dying shows.
Dying my love shall not settle.
Ladybug on a black rose.
Ladybug weeps dark petals.
-Boxer
I lingered on this phrase “Your red love for me grows” that stood out to me amongst the black and death. Very nice images in this triolet!
“Dying my love shall not settle.” – so many interpretations possible with these few words, leaving me wondering…
Boxer, this is a haunting little triolet with its stark colors and twists – “Your love for my dying shows” caught me like something straight out of Poe, just to be backed up with “Dying my love shall not settle.” All capped by the ladybug, innocent-seeming symbol, representing luck and chances… weeping dark petals, alas. The artwork is the perfect pairing.
I love imaging what a ladybug on a black rose might look like. After being captured by the image I’m drawn in to the story. A little sad to discover the ourcome.
Love how moody this was!!
“Your love for my dying shows.” = wow!
Thank you, Fran, for having us play with the triolet this morning, but, I fear, I must issue you a public apology. I’m sorry for what you’re about to read. (Everybody else, it’ll probably be better if you just move along…nothing to see here folks, nothing to see…). Once this (rather sophomoric) idea entered my brain, I couldn’t shake it! 🙂
The movement of this poem depends on how each line is worded,
but like a rudderless captain at sea, I’m out of my Depp(th).
I should have chosen a topic less tawdry, less lurid.
The movement of this poem depends on how each line is worded,
and it seems, poetically speaking, this triolet’s bed I’ve, unintentionally, Hearded.
Instead of watching Court TV, I should have cast a wider net and widened my breadth.
The movement of this poem depends on how each line is worded,
but like a rudderless captain at sea, I’m out of my depth.
Excellent!! you sailed through troubled seas instead of watching court tv… love it!
Dear Scott: Why are you apologizing?? Earlier this week I couldn’t get the blackout poem to work for me – I mean, c’mon, the blackout!! I just did it my way anyway and y’all were, as always, most gracious. Now. This triolet is hardly tawdry or lurid (but what great word choices) and it speaks an important revelatory truth: The movement of the poem does depend on how each line is worded…and your wordplay is so much fun. It always is. Another honest-to-goodness bright spot in my day. Mean it. 🙂
This is too funny.
Fran, thank you for this challenging prompt. It turned out to be fun too!
The Danger of Reading on the Fly
I thought the poem’s title was Grandma Baby.
What a strange title – so Toni Morrison-like.
Rhymes with Brooks’s “Ballad of Chocolate Mabbie.”
I thought the poem’s title was Grandma Baby.
What a start, what would this day be?
Grandma Baby – consonants strike.
I thought the poem’s title was Grandma Baby.
What a strange title – so Toni Morrison-like.
Haha funny topic to pull a poem from. I can’t lie, I understand how you could have first read Grandma Baby 🙊 I love the reference to “Toni Morrison-like”
Gracious!! Today with this prompt we have had Grandma Baby and Try a Toilet! I almost feel I should craft a poem out of these! I have been howling over the misreadings. Now. I have to say I adore this triolet, with the initial wonderings and thinking the mention was so Toni Morrison-like, then connecting it to Brooks. Absolutely rich. Thanks for confessing to reading on the fly… I adore this!
Katrina, this was too funny — and totally relates to my reading of “triolet” as “toilet” when I first saw the title on top (“Try a…Toilet”?!?!?). Good thing we both reread!
Fran, thank you for the inspiration. I remember your sweet father-daughter dance triolets. Your sweet poem about Grandma Ruby. I love how Christmas is a time now to remember her “in the lights and silent nights.” I was just relaxing wondering what to write on this cold morning, and this was in my view:
FireplaceIn a cast iron box, glowing window
Ignites warmth around and within
Orange coals, dancing flames flow
In a cast iron box, glowing window
As I sit in quiet, you stage a show
In sweet serenity, this day begins
In a cast iron box, glowing window
Ignites warmth around and within
Denise, I am savoring the warmth of this poem! The staging of a show is a perfect descriptor for watching the dancing flames in the stove on a cold morning. You pull me right in to see it, bask in it…even without that photo! LOVE the stove and your lines, which wrap me in comfort!
Denise,
I have an image of you sitting and reading and writing next to the “cast iron box” and envisioning it as a source of inspiration. Your triolet embodies home and comfort. I’m so glad you included the picture. It enriches your poem.
Nothing is more relaxing and moving as watching and listening to the fire! Well versed!
Denise, this flows so perfectly and it makes me feel so comfortable (if I were there) definitely not here, haha. I love this personification: “As I sit in quiet, you stage a show”
I can picture (without your picture) the glowing coals and dancing flames that give out so much warmth and comfort. Yes, they give off quite a show that one can stare into for hours.
“In sweet serenity, this day begins” – the repetition of lines of the triolet form adds so much meditative serenity to our poems today, I think. I love this. Sounds like your day began beautifully!
Denise, what a great subject and a imagistic interpretation of it — this was a feast for the senses!
Your poem is warm with lovely imagery and sensory appeal, Denise! Love the glowing window and dancing flames. “Ignites warmth around and within” is definitely serene. Love it!
Denise, there is nothing like the warmth of a fire to comfort and bring instant coziness. I love a fire – -and gas logs so I can have one as fast as I can turn a knob. I love the old fireplace box. And these lines are my favorites:
In a cast iron box, glowing window
As I sit in quiet, you stage a show
Denise – I’d love to be there sitting with you! I love that @cast iron box”! Susie
Denise, it sound so warm and inviting to begin a day “in sweet serenity” without rushing anywhere. I can “see” you sitting quietly and enjoying the view. Your poems spreads this warmth generously around. Such a treat!
Working on a multiform project with students that centers on the Johnny Nash song, “I Can See Clearly Now.” I’ve never done a multiform project that features some thing so small as a single track and expand it into multiple pieces of narrative, definition, microessays, ekphrasis, etc. So, here is an attempt at Triolet to try to convey in the small form afforded here, what that work is doing in me and for me:
“I can see clearly now”
a new direction for the work
an extension of the what and how.
I can see clearly now
writing that might amaze and wow,
drawing from where ideas hide and lurk,
I can see clearly now
a new direction for the work.
Paul, what a great idea for the multiform project. I love the sense of exploration and experimentation here today and in the whole project. I’m curious, does each person choose their own different inspiration? I’m finding I want to try this myself!
I love your “drawing from where ideas hide and lurk” and going in “a new direction for the work” Beautifully told.
Paul,
I appreciate the commentary preceding your poem and the explanation of how short forms challenge you because I am familiar w/ your writing through our friendship and NCTE work together. I love that you’re building writing around the song and challenging your own writing in the process. I think we all need “a new direction for the work” at times. And I’m glad to find you in this space today.
Paul – this triolet works beautifully to convey the nature of your current work! I am fascinated by your process with the track and expansion; I expect the students will be astounded by all the places this will take them. This poem itself is a celebration.
Paul,
The project sounds fascinating! I have to try that–ideas are bubbling up thinking about it. And your poem is great! I love it as process analysis–looking at where the ideas hide and lurk.
Very clever! I love how leaning into something small leads to complexity, more ideas, extensions.
Neat! Loved how you incorporated the song (love that song!) into your poem.
Paul, I’m glad to see you here! I’m using your Blockhead poetry idea on Jenga blocks as part of our National Poetry Month celebrations on the town square – incredible you! Love your poem, and the song I will hear on replay……that line with the multiform project is surely going to amaze and wow!
Fran, your triolet is simply lovely — snow, feathers and ruby red cardinals each holding such viivd visuals, each capturing so much thought and emotion in so few words!
April Morning, 1991
How wide and deep was the April sky
when first she placed you in my arms.
How soft were the clouds that drifted by
How wide and deep was the April sky.
How sweet was the sound of your newborn sigh
How distant the threat of harm—
How wide and deep was the April sky,
when first she placed you in my arms.
Oh, Ann, what a beautiful poem. I love how the “wide and deep” April sky “placed you in my arms.”
This line is heartbreaking…
Ann, such a lovely moment to preserve in verse, which serves as a lullaby for that newborn baby I envision in your arms. How can 1991 be so long ago?? But here in your poem, it is now, will always be now, the sense of it forever preserved. So beautiful.
Gorgeous poem. I love your first (and 4th and 7th) line, how you juxtaposed the sky images with the new baby images. It feels hopeful. I have an April morning baby, too, and though I don’t really remember how the sky looked that day, I’m sure it was beautiful! Haha.
This poem is a lullaby. I have a special daughter born in April and I remember the sweet sound of a newborn. Your words “how distant was the threat of harm_” resonates with me in its truth. Oh, how I wish the harm would remain distant.
I really love your triolet. Ah, this precious moment of birth. “How sweet was the sound of your newborn sigh.” So lovely!
Ann, loved your repetition of “How” here as anaphora — it was lulling. Beautiful imagery, and congratulations if this is a recent event!
Fran, fun! I think I tried a triolet in a challenge back in February but I know it’s not a form I’ve used much. I look forward to writing with you all today. Fran, I have staff dance practice after work so there’s a good chance my poem won’t be up until the evening. I am sure I’ll have lots of great poetry to catch up reading and responding to.
I love that your triolet is about remembering Grandma in December. I always reflect on my grandmother during December and it was also her birth month.
Thank you for inspiring and encouraging us today!
🥰
Aww, Stacey – thank you always for your gracious words. Tell me: Was “Silent Night” your grandmother’s favorite Christmas song? It was Grandma’s, hence my working it into the triolet (which is always songlike to me anyway). I haven’t written many of these but I love them. Look forward to yours, and thank YOU for always being such an encourager!
Fran,
I haven’t written many triolets, so I welcome this opportunity to practice the form. I agree w/ all you’ve said about form. Certainly, I need it! Your own is lovely, especially the cardinal imagery, which I always love. I’m not sure where my poem came from, but here it is.
Break-Up Note to Old Sneakers
our relationship has run its course
time to go our separate ways
no longer an inspiration source
our relationship has run its course
understand this decision is by perforce
what’s inevitable deserves no delays
our relationship has run its course
time to go our separate ways
—Glenda Funk
April 18, 2023
Glenda: Your triolet makes me think of the nature of social media contacts. Especially when Facebook presents one with memories from years ago. One might see a comment from a friend/contact at that time and place and wonder where a disconnect might have happened. And, if the channel provides for a return to those interactions in the same space.
Glenda, I love that we come up with ideas from random sources. It is very interesting to read the poem with and without the title. It could have so many meanings, but a break-up with old sneakers is great.
Enjoy those new sneakers!
I love it, Glenda! I haven’t written many triolets, either, but I love the rhythms of its repetition and I REALLY love the playfulness of yours, in these serious tones! Alas. The time just comes. It was good while it lasted…sorry, good and faithful shoes. Your sole just ain’t everlasting (LOL – sorry, couldn’t help myself!). Thank you for your words and the shared loved of cardinals 🙂
I love the play on words in “our relationship has run its course.” And isn’t it always nice to put on those new sneakers?? Especially at the start of a new summer – makes me think of Ray Bradbury’s description in “Dandelion Wine.”
Hahaha “run its course” – breaking up with old sneakers! If you don’t read the title (as Denise says below), you get a very different message…this is really cleaver, Glenda. New sneakers can be inspiring!!
Glenda,
This! “our relationship has run its course”
Too funny!
I don’t how you made this ring with sensory detail just by intimation, but you did a beautiful job of it!
Such a fun poem. A favorite line is – our relationship has run its course. It was certainly worth making it the focus of the poem. Nice job with the rhyme.
Glenda, I love the creativity and universality of the fit of these sneakers to other “sneakers.” Ha. This break-up note is timely and perfect for today.
Glenda, wow, I love the “run its course” line since it so perfectly captures the purpose of sneakers. I had a great chuckle with “what’s inevitable deserves no delays”. This is particularly humorous to me because I one hundred percent agree, and yet I have such a difficult time letting go of junk and crappy shoes, too. Wonderful poem and word play! Love it!
Glenda – I need to break up with some old shoes too. “Run its course” gave me a grin. Fun to think of the idea as a “break-up”… 😊 👟 I have a killa pair of red stilettos 👠 that I just can’t part with, mind you I’ve not worn heels in … what… maybe a decade. LOL! I’d break my neck trying to wear those beauties now. Maybe there’s a poem there somewhere. There we go: poetry begets poetry! Susie
Glenda, the title is promising. Love it! The repeating line “our relationship has run its course” seems to hint on more than just “worn out sneakers,” but human relationships as well. The second line just solidifies it. Very well played!
Fran, I loved trying out this form & am excited to play with it more! I decided to write about a photo I have of my now almost one year old. She’s not so small anymore, and I miss these days!!!
4 days old
So smug and small, you cuddled up
content with your mama
and ready to drink life’s cup
so smug and small you cuddled up
chiller than ice, sweeter than syrup
that day you wore pink pajamas
so smug and small, you cuddled up
content with your mama.
Rachel, this form is perfect for that photo and your sweet smug and small little bundle in pink pajamas. You both are as cute as can be.
This makes my heart happy:
What a beautiful images you’ve shared in both words and pictures. These are precious days an you’ve captured the contentment of your little one ~ and her mama 💕
Rachel, your poem just sings and my heart runneth over with love for it and this photo! I can see it framed together as a keepsake for your daughter. <3
Rachel,
This is such a sweet triolet and gorgeous baby girl. Denise and I both have grandsons born in June, and seeing them grow from those tiny newborn babes has been the most heartwarming experience. I love the repetition of “smug and small.” It’s a bit like “hush” w/ the /s/ sounds. 🥰
What a treasure to see this photo! Thank you for sharing it. She is a sweetie! They grow so much in that first year…they’ll still snuggle, but not as easily as this. Absolutely precious! This triolet is such a fun form!! It worked beautifully for your poem.
Rachel, loved this! My faves:
“and ready to drink life’s cup”
and
“chiller than ice, sweeter than syrup”
What a CUTIE!!
Rachel, what a gift this is to your 4 day old sweetie – something she will treasure from you as a memory of this day! I love your repeated line – what a sweet addition and something to return to, again and again! Love this photo of you too!
Ahhh, Rachel, your baby girl is adorable. Look how happy you both are. Your final line “content with your mama” is pure love. Congratulations, and you need to put this in her baby book or a journal for her to have when she’s grown so she can relive this loving moment.
This is too sweet, Rachel! Thank you for sharing this precious memory that you skillfully put in a triolet form. She is adorable!
Hi Fran! Here is my try at a triolet this morning. Thank you for the prompt.
Magnolia Triolet
The magnolia blooms outside my window,
White and magenta pointing to the sky.
Spent petals fall like snow,
The magnolia blooms outside my window,
Reminding to stop and savor slow –
Breathe, inhale its sweet fragrance, sigh,
The magnolia blooms outside my window,
White and magenta pointing to the sky.
Joanne, I can see it reaching for the sky. I can smell it, and the fragrance fills me with hope for all that’s possible. Did I ever tell you that Magnolia is my Scout’s middle name-? It is the queen of flowers and the crown of your gorgeous triolet – my day is brighter for having read it.
“Breathe, inhale its sweet fragrance, sigh”- this line placed me right there with you. Your words before it painted a wonderful picture in my mind so I could imagine the fragrance around me as I read this line.
These moments in nature work so beautifully with the triolet! How lovely to have a magnolia in bloom just outside your window.
Beautiful!!! I love: “reminding to stop and savor slow.” My mom has a magnolia tree outside her window, and when it blooms, it means Spring. We sit outside and watch it. (Until a wind storm usually comes and blows all the blooms off – like snow!)
Joanne, just gorgeous, peaceful imagery here! i could just smell it. Loved:
“Reminding to stop and savor slow –
Breathe, inhale its sweet fragrance, sigh,”
Lovely!
Our neighbors have a huge magnolia and the scent is so luscious. I like your word choices for the rhymes: snow, window, slow.
Joanne, what a lovely triolet about the magnolia – – the tree of steel, strength, fortitude – blooming sweetly, but oh such a powerful force is this tree.
Once upon a time at Snooks pond
Where we, as preteens, lolled in wheelbarrows
I was, of you, so fond
Once upon a time at Snooks pond
I couldn’t forecast beyond
Our talk, our swim in the shallows
Once upon a time at Snooks pond
Where we, as preteens, lolled in wheelbarrows
I love the image of preteens lolled in wheelbarrows! In such a short space, you captured the age precisely. Wonderful.
Jennifer, your triolet feels playful, whimsical, and a little mournful. Makes me wonder what came next after the shallows of Snooks pond…maybe foreshadowing something deep. I love the intrigue and the scene of preteens lolling…such great word choices throughout!
Love love the three rhymes, pond fond beyond! You’ve captured a fun preteen memory here.
Jennifer, what a great snapshot. And my heart sings when you write about locations I know, which makes reading your poems even more fun. <3
Jennifer – I loved the sense of nostalgia and a sort of wistfulness … teens “loll[ing]… it’s a soothing image. And even the repetition inherent in a triplet lends itself to the “shallows.” I really like this poem. Susie
Fran, True story. When I REALLY need to focus, I tie things around my head: ties, ribbon, rope, belts…anything to keep my brain from being too manic. This is why I love and appreciate form-poetry. It reels me back to the deck ,so I don’t get too lost in the ocean of ideas. My favorite line from your morning poem is,
I’m going to savor that line all day. And yes, At first I read today’s style as toilet, and there were many inappropriate ways I wanted to go (is that a pun?). Lucky for me, though, I’m wearing a hoodie. I pulled it up, tied it tight, and forced my self to go elsewhere.
Toilet Triolet for Eros & Psyche
~b.r.crandall
Barba non facit philosophum,
she snarled, shaving her legs on the toilet.
Once you label me, you negate me. Cogito, ergo sum.
Barba non facit philosophum.
I only asked, “Where’s Octavia Butler from?”
but she baptized the question a wild hair, inappropriate.
Barba non facit philosophum.
she snarled, shaving her legs on the toilet.
Bryan, I love the idea of this philosophical conversation (or not — “I only asked, ‘Where’s Octavia Butler from?'”) happening all the while she is “shaving her legs on the toilet.” (Thanks for teaching me the Latin phrase about the beard not making one a philosopher, too!) Now, I’m glad you were wearing a hoodie today (because I obviously wasn’t when I crafted my poem, lol), but, just know, we’re “here” for all your “offerings” (“inappropriate” or otherwise)!
Bryan – first things first, ahem! – I love this praise of form-poetry: “It reels me back to the deck, so I don’t get too lost in the ocean of ideas.” Yes! Exactly. Good boundaries… which brings me to the rest of your poem…LOL. I am in awe of your Latin phrases (oh, the layers of interpretation-!), the vivid image of the legs propped on the toilet, being shaved, the snarled response against being labeled (or minimized), and that title doing a whole lotta work, too, in regard to romantic relationships. Just, WHOA. You killed me with the initial toilet/triolet confusion – I only survived because laughter is the best medicine, like, in this case, Narcan – your brain is just amazing, therefore, is your poetry.
Phew. I had to reread my own poem. I think I now have another interpretation that was unintentional, but I think it works. Oof. Words! You just never know.
I love the Latin! Just as with the Botany lesson, I had to Google the Latin. It works so humorously, all this shaving of the legs while a beard does not a philosopher make. How intelligent and humorous, this scene, these words. These conversational reactions. I love being there to hear this!
OK: I was NOT the only person who read quickly and saw the title of this as “Try a Toilet.” Whew! Love your toilet triolet!
Fran, thank you for hosting today and sharing this form with us. It is a reasonably accessible form and I appreciate how you remixed it for your grandmother.
in between pillows, she is coiled
lazy days, jealous of her pace
snuggles, tickles, treats–spoiled
in between pillows, she is coiled
as our days are long and toiled
if only humans could resist the race
in between pillows, she is coiled
lazy days, jealous of her pace
Something about “she is coiled” here that evokes a deep emotional response as I read your poem, Stefani
Kevin
Is her name, “Karal,” Stefani? I read the poem, headed to the kitchen, saw the dog on the couch, and reread the poem….jealous of her pace…always wanting to resist the race. Love the triolet treatment here.
Stefani, I am sensing the lazy days of dogs, the way they are spoiled, coiled, waiting on treats, living the dream! If only humans could resist the race……oh, how true! Oh. How. True.
Oh – love the cadence of this – so wonderful.
Love this stanza:
as our days are long and toiled
if only humans could resist the race
If only we could take life lessons from our pets.
Stefani, thank you for your words about the accessibility of the form; that is exactly why I picked it! The image in your triolet is so real; I see my own dachshund, Dennis, coiled on the pillow and being the star of this show, but I also honor that it could, could, be a cat. Therein lies the great poet-magic, creating something so personal yet universal. Oh, do I feel the longing for the comfort this creature experiences! I especially love your choice of rhyming words.
Stefani, I felt like this HAD to be about a lazy, cozy feline like ours when you used the word coiled — and it was such a cute picture and made me yearn to take a sick day tomorrow to stay coiled with him!
Fran, your poem really captures Christmas, in all of its joy and silent awe. How lovely to share memories of your grandmother in this form, all wrapped up like a special Christmas present.
I’ve never tried a triolet–I really like the simple compactness of this form.
April Music
Lilacs’ fragrant smell
whispering through the yard–
of springs’ onset they tell.
Lilacs’ fragrant smell
accompanied by the bell
of just-hung windchimes, standing
guard
Lilacs’ fragrant smell
whispering through the yard.
Julie, I love the notion of the “onset” of the smells of spring that whisper throughout your poem. Thank you for sharing.
Julie, this is like a walk in nature with floral scents on a breeze on this fine sunny springtime moring. Thank you for taking us with you! And the windchimes, whispers from the winds of messages we can take to heart.
Your lilacs go so nicely with my magnolias. Ah spring!
I’m closing my eyes and smelling the flowers. What a great poem!
Absolutely lovely, Julie! From the title through the lilac fragrance and “just-hung windchimes standing guard,” your triolet enchants and refreshes. Such peace, here in your verse; thank you.
Julie, this made me so eager for our lilacs to come and welcome us into spring! Here in rural CNY, we bloom late and are still on hyacinths and daffodils. 🙂
Love your olfactory and auditory imagery.
Julie – You’ve brought me a bouquet of my favorite spring flower… that indelible scent. My fave. You made it “whisper” right through my house! Thank you! Susie
Fran, I love this prompt because it is a challenge for me and it’s on my poem-a-day forms-to-try calendar. Your poem draws me in to how December can be a celebratory time but it’s also a time for remember loss.
I have watched a cardinal couple at my feeder and witnessed the male feeding the female.
I’m also feeling the presence of my father in cardinals these days.
At the Feeder
two cardinals come,
kiss sunflower seeds from beak to beak.
Mama calls, “Daddy’s home!”
when two cardinals come.
I wonder where they travel from.
Is it asylum or adventure they seek?
When two cardinals come
and pass the sun from beak to beak.
Margaret, your punctuation adds lovely variation to this form. I love the question of asylum or adventure! Thank you for sharing today.
Margaret, the kissing of sunflowers is such a stunning image of caring and love. I love that question: is it asylum or adventure they seek? Deep, my friend, and full of wonderings on the wings of these messengers sent to us to say HELLO. I’M FINE. I LOVE YOU. As they often do.
Just love – pass the sun from beak to beak!
Margaret, I love you frame your triolet ~ from kiss the sunflower seeds to pass the sun! Perfect!
Margaret, I thought of you when I chose this poem for today, knowing the cardinal connection…and oh, yours are glorious, passing the sun from beak to beak. The line about Mama calling “Daddy’s home!” has completely undone me, knowing how you miss your father. Thank you for this jewel of a triolet and the light always shining out of your heart, which we all need.
I think about cardinal stories all the time, especially vis-a-vis those loved ones who have passed. Beautiful that you are feeling the presence of your father in cardinals; this hopefully brings solace. “Is it asylum or adventure they seek?” They are a sighting of wonder!
Margaret, I loved this image so much!
“two cardinals come,
kiss sunflower seeds from beak to beak.”
Just the sweetest!
Margaret, the thought of cardinals passing the sun from beak to beak (as if the world depends on them) is beautiful.
Fran, as always, your family roots shine brightly, and in your very Fran way, you extend your hand and help Grandma Ruby take center stage today with her cardinal red presence to steer and to guide, to remind us of the importance of carrying forth a remarkable legacy. I feel her even now, smiling as her soul knows that we are all thinking of the ways she embraced you and loved you so, the way you embrace your own little granddaughters and love them so in the never-ending circle of life. Powerful presence today! Thank you for hosting us with a triolet! I changed one rule, line 7, as preachers’ kids are known to do…..
Choose to Live!
Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
unfurl your fingers! choose to live!
mixed tears of grief and joy I cry
Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
my gaze drifts heavenward, eyes to the sky
reassurance of faith and hope you give
Resurrection plant ~ tears green you, oh my!
unfurl your fingers! choose to live!
Kim, I appreciate that you give way to the “preacher’s kid” rule of change;) Your personification is smooth throughout this verse. Thank you for sharing.
The “brittle, brown, dry” phrasing is all rhythm here, giving the lines momentum (particularly if you read it aloud)
Kevin
And in today’s Botany lesson, Kim Johnson mandates you do a Google Search for “Rose of Jericho.” And there you have it, Crandall…new learning for the day. What a beautifully named plant to be resurrected in a triolet! Indeed, you labeled it well: brittle, brown, dry!
Love the cadence in this – Rose of Jericho – it’s a poem in and of itself.
Ah, Kim -the breaking of the rules is perfect here, in this extension/sequel to yesterday’s profound poem on why we write poetry. I quietly broke the rules myself with the blackout poem, earlier this week. Your triolet is charged with energy; it is vibrant; it is ALIVE! It sings itself into my heart, where it will stay, crowned with green hope and all promise…utterly gorgeous. Victorious. And thank you for your words re: Grandma Ruby in her cardinal-red presence taking center stage. She adored the bird and the color. Truth is – I remember her EVERY day <3
Love thinking about this plant having fingers, and it is beautiful to see that line repeated “unfurl your fingers! choose to live!” Beautiful triolet, one of hope.
Kim, I didn’t know what Rose of Jericho was and so looked it up — what a beautiful plant! And love how a reader could take this to mean more than the plant — loved:
“Rose of Jericho ~ brittle, brown, dry
my gaze drifts heavenward, eyes to the sky”
Lovely imagery!
Kim, your voice is so powerful in this poem. I feel your speaker’s voice full of desire for the rebirth to occur. Loved “unfurl your fingers! choose to live!” Wow, what an amazing image!
Kim, I love your dedication to rose of Jericho once again. The words and images reveal your grieving soul looking up to heaven. Peace to you, friend! 🤗
Fran, your words both gather your grandmother in and let her go. What a beautiful time of year (and way to remember her) within lights and silence and snow. I love the line “on wings of the morning,” not only because it extends the cardinal metaphor but also because of all Christmas mornings bring. Thank you for sharing triolets with us – having structure this morning was welcome and for sharing your grandmother.
Take these letters and put them together
however you wish.
Create a thought as far as forever.
Take these letters and put them together;
make yourself an alphabet tether,
a character line up, a rune string, a word flourish.
Take these letters and put them together
however you wish.
Jennifer, I love how your poem invites us in to the creativity of writing. “Create a thought as far as forever” is what we try to accomplish as writers.
That “however you wish” is the perfect heart and anchor of your poem, Jennifer
Jennifer, a thought as far as forever, this alphabet tether, rune string, whatever we wish – – it’s a fun thought about how parts and pieces of letters, sounds, language join and rejoin to form words, thoughts, ideas, inspire actions. You capture all of this and so much more today.
Love this! My favorite line – make yourself an alphabet tether.
Jennifer — I love how inviting this piece is …it rings of possibility and challenge to step into the word soup. Very clever and the triolet is a dandy vehicle. You must share this with your students as they set out to do some poeming! The voice reminds me a maternal soothing sound… even the repeated word “however you wish” sort of swooshes gently onto the page. Now, I need to do some “alphabet tether[ing]. Lovely, Susie
Jennifer, I am so glad that having a structure was helpful today (I was so hoping it would be). Your triolet-!! I may have to print it and put it in my room at school. And on a wall at home, near where I write. Here’s what it’s ALL about: The magic of language catapulting an idea from the mind of one person to another. “Create a thought as far as forever”…”make yourself an alphabet tether” – I LOVE these lines. I absolutely savor them. They are both the how and forever the why. Thank you for this pure poetic delight!
The power of words, the power of poetry! Beautiful triolet – “Create a thought as far as forever.” Those three rhymes are extra special, together-forever-tether.
Jennifer, loved these lines:
“Create a thought as far as forever.”
“an alphabet tether,” “and “a rune string, a word flourish.”
Unexpected combinations of imagery — beautiful imagery!
Fran – I love the patterning and echoing in this form.
Kevin
It’s hard to fathom the warning
when listening to an orchestra of birds
on such an beautiful morning
It’s hard to fathom the warning
of a world, built slowly storming,
and how we’re told but only heard:
it’s hard to fathom the warning
when listening to an orchestra of birds
Kevin, I’m a firm believer in the warnings of birds and other animals to sense things undetected on all our high-dollar weather technology. Told but only heard – – so much is true from these prophets themselves giving us a heads up that we don’t heed. Perfect words for these times!
The repetition and beat in this accentuates the storm warning – just wonderful!
I can hear the music of the birds as I read this poem, warning us about the storm that is about to happen, It comes to a crescendo at the end.
There is such ominous foreshadowing in “of a world, built slowly storming,”…it is hard to fathom, in the midst of listening to birds in the morning. Delightful triolet.
Loved this. You had me with the juxtaposition of the birds and the warning, then this:
“It’s hard to fathom the warning
of a world, built slowly storming,”
Such beautiful phrasing!
Fran, this triolet is perfect…reminds me of a snowflake as it’s so delicate and refers to December. I am slightly addicted to triolets. I will be writing them this morning in my writing time. Thank you!
Linda, I believe I recall your love of triolets! It seems to be a new form for many people today, which makes me happy that I went with it. Thank you for your sweet words. You always do my heart good.