The Quinzaine

After my attempt at a cinquaine in a recent blog, I turn to another verse form, sounding rather similar but conforming to a different set of rules.

A Quinzaine is an un-rhymed verse of fifteen syllables. The word comes from the French word quinze, meaning fifteen. The syllables are distributed over three lines so that there are seven syllables in the first line, five in the second line, and three in the third line (7/5/3). The first line makes a statement. The next two lines ask a question relating to that statement. From: Wikipedia).

Below are 4 of my attempts at a quinzaine, each related to one of my own photographs 

Cardiff Waterfront

Look! The sun is coming out
Isn’t it home time?
Dog: Food time?

Watchet Harbourside, Somerset

I just shot an albatross
Does that mean bad luck?
Isn’t life short?

Funeral Urn – Churchyard, Surrey

Resting place for my ashes
Will I end up there?
Who can tell?

Stone Owl – Yorkshire

The owl is a wise old bird
Does a stone one count?
Can he hoot?

WILL I DO?

Photo by ramtin ak on Pexels.com

 

‘Single man with toilet paper seeks woman with hand sanitizer for good clean fun.’

I have paper for the loo
Hand sanitiser too
Now I’m looking for a mate, Will I do?

I have headache pills galore
You will never need for more
Now I’m looking for a mate, Will I do?

I am well stocked up with food,
And I’m always in the mood,
Now I’m looking for a mate, Will I do?

I have wads and wads of money
I’d give you all you need, my honey,
Now I’m looking for a mate, Will I do?

I have the newest mobile phones
All the latest fads and clones
Now I’m looking for a mate, Will I do?

I’ve a sumptuous country mansion
And I’m craving for expansion,
Now I’m looking for a mate, Will I do?

So if you too are looking,
And especially good at cooking
Then I’m your man, yes I’m your man, Will I do?

 

©  …..  WHB

 

Cuisine Chez Moi

Cuisine Chez Moi – A Culinary Critique

a critical menu
battered salmon steaks
served on china white
juices run off
then mayonnaised
glorified and garnished
presented au gratin
with whipped creamed mash
and one fat lonely
half spliced
sprog from brussels

truly a dreamed of dish
kindly meant
subliminally envisaged
in hypnagogic moments
yet met with silence
unpopular
yet savagely devoured
by a famished family
now fed
now fulfilled
my culinary skills
uncommented
unquestioned
just silently derided
never to be repeated
by popular
though unvoiced request

 

For Starters

What to choose for starters?

Yes, I know I’m hard to please.

While others make decisions

I sit there ill at ease.

Shall I indulge in mushrooms?

Is the better bet the soup?

While I study and consider

Eyes glaze and eyelids droop.

I cannot bear the goats cheese;

Prawn cocktail leaves me cold.

I know I’m getting fussy

And my taste buds are quite old.

Asparagus is stringy,

The pâté’s often off.

The pepper in the mackerel

So often makes me cough.

Canapés are dainty,

But can be very bland.

Whitebait’s a non-starter.

Calamari should be banned.

Focaccio or bruschetta?

No, they’ll make my stomach leaden;

Perhaps my taste receptor cells

Have died and gone to heaven.

Fried brie does sound exciting,

But it’s sticky – makes me sick.

Oh, please, forget the starters

The main course please – and quick!

William Blake … 1757-1827

‘Caged Beauty’ … Pen&Ink – WHB – 1981

FROM: ‘ Auguries of Innocence’

BY . . . William Blake

 

“ . . . A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeons
Shudders Hell thro’ all its regions.
A Dog starv’d at his Master’s Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus’d upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fiber from the Brain does tear . . . ”

 

FROM: ‘ Proverbs of Hell’

BY . . . William Blake

  Image From:   

… All wholesome food is caught without a net or a trap
Bring out number, weight & measure in a year of dearth.
No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.
A dead body revenges not injuries …

William Blake … Poet & Artist  … 1757-1827