CHERITA #3

My third experiment with the poetic form – The CHERITA . . .

Cherita’ is the Malay word for story or tale. A cherita consists of a single stanza of a one-line verse, followed by a two-line verse, and then finishing with a three-line verse. It can be written solo or with up to three partners.  (See the website at:   https://www.thecherita.com for further information).

Rhyming is not required, but here is a version which does include rhyme . . .

‘Boo Hoo’ . . . Photo: WHB 2021

3.

I walked along the towpath

Observing each boat as I passed
Until I reached the very last.

A strange name it had
Some may think it sad
But no, it made me glad.

Escape To Paradise

A Paradise’ . . . WHB: Pen and watercolour – 2014

our world is not always a nice place to be
so let’s take off for paradise
to do that we must dream
so make a wish and dream
the dreams made from memories
choose daydreams
for they are made from pleasant ones
precious jewels of remembered moments
of childhood pleasures recreated in golden colours
under warm and generous skies
for what is nirvana but bliss
a perfect quietude
remembered from that golden age
when cares were so far away as to be invisible
and joy was present
in the simplicity of a walk in a spring meadow
in hesitant steps across a bubbling beck
in that breath of early evening air
bringing the scent of heather
and with it the rustle of new leaves
bursting to catch the evening air
amongst the rolling northern hills
the cradled landscape of that now distant home
forever a part of my being
both bedrock and comfort of my present
and succour of my hopes for the future

A Rainbow Visited Me Today

My Rainbow

Photo:WHB  – 2020  …   ©

A Rainbow Visited Me Today

 

As upon my chair I lay

To my dismay,

A rainbow crept up my leg today.

I like it here’, I heard it say.

So warm and cosy, I think I’ll stay.’

She whispered to me ‘Is that O-Kay?

Feeling blessed I could not say ‘Nay.’

Of course, I said, ‘Well, Yes, you may.

A joy, a gift, a bold array.

Do not decay,

No need to pay.

So, please, oh please, don’t ever go away.’

rainbow color textiles

Photo by Adrien Olichon on Pexels.com

She Lives

she

SHE  LIVES


With wizened face and withered arms he looks his ninety years;

His hairless head,  those sunken eyes, not given to easy tears.
Though yet a smile lights up his face whenever he looks at her,
For she it is who lights his life, brings calm to soothe his fears.

But she is now a photograph, an image in her youth,
Mounted in silver, encased in glass, resplendent in its frame.
A memory of memories, written on his heart,
Reminder of a life well spent, of the lovers they became.

Long years, a life, have passed him by, the past now left behind.
What does the future hold for him that hasn’t once been tried?
Save memories, now fading, but alive within his heart,
Bringing rich fodder to his dreams, a full life justified.

 

Bar-Rose

ANOTHER  YEAR

icarus4b1

‘Icarus’ … Pen & Wash – WHB – 2020   ©

ANOTHER  YEAR

Another year older
and
against time’s odds
deeper in love –
with life
with living
with a fervid
lust for existence

I want to feel
feel fast
feel free
to fly above my waning world
to feel what Adam felt
when first
he faltered
and fell
feel that Icarus moment
that experienced joy
that knowledge gain
that original lesson
singed
tinged
with both
joy and regret

I fear
I am led
to disregard
inhibitions shackles
and give hedonism
its brazen head

Desire
becomes the imperative
Desire
given to us
to ensure our continued existence
Desire
without which
no history would exist
and all would be
the futility
of Dreamland

snowflake

Flower of Perfection

perfect1

Photo: WHB … ‘On a Surrey Grave’  – 2019   ©

Flower of Perfection

 

This In Memoriam
Flower of perfection
No brighter yellow
Offset dark greens
Centred in mauve
Dewdropped
Bejewelled
Delicately scented
Microcosm of
A dreamworld’s core
Promising abounding joy
And a life renewed
In Nature’s gift
To a heart-sore world

 

bar-curl4 

Life is made of Memories

Life is made of Memories

As the morning warms its shoes
As the dark gives way to dawn
So new day begins its tale
Yet another story born.

Every moment, every day,
Bring new memories again;
Similar but none the same
Some of joy, others of pain.

Life is made of memories
When each life has been and gone
Let us all remember this
Memories are what live on.

Amen Corner

Amen Corner2

A house in which to end my days.
Goodbye it says to all,
For here at last I am content
Behind my garden wall.

The name I gave it says it all,
How still, at peace, and blessed,
How glad am I to know such joy,
To be by love possessed.

That final farewell anthem,
When it is heard at last,
Will sound around these humble walls
Where present meets the past.

For I have lived a life I loved,
Loved the path I’ve trod.
Amen was written on my heart
In this my House of God.

A Devon Cottage, England

 

‘On Lost Youth” . . . A TANKA

black and white man young lonely

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‘On Lost Youth” . . . A TANKA

 

Still lusting for life

It so defeats me to cry

Joy now comes with pain

Bringing thoughts of what has been

Youth will never come again

 

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Tanka is a genre of classical Japanese poetry meaning a short poem, and one of the major genres of Japanese literature. 

A Tanka consist of five units (often treated as separate lines when romanized or translated) usually with the pattern of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables per unit or line). Wikipedia

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