Three Tercets


William Blake … ‘The Vision Of Christ Resurrected’

A Haiku, when written in English, is a 3-lined unrhymed tercet.
A Poetic  TERCET is essentially a verse of three-lines all of which end in the same rhyme and often written in iambic pentameter.  I print three of my own such Poetic TERCETS below .  . .



To start each morning he would kneel and pray;

He needed that to get him through the day.

At least his god would let him have his say.


He loved to speak and then have the last word.

His friends, such as they were, called him absurd,

The rest just closed their ears and nothing heard.


God said to Man I’ll give to you a choice,

Believe in me and then with me rejoice,

Or be a Trappist monk and lose your voice.




Caedmon’s Story: PartsVI, VII



After my examination
Which, I was told,
My divine gift,
In humility
I accepted this new role
No longer a toiler in God’s farmyard
But now become a monk novitiate
Tutored in biblical tradition
In the classic stories
God had bestowed
In His scriptures
Encouraged to
Make music with words
And voice,
To reflect the stories
From Genesis
To The Last Judgement.

My chief desire
Through all my words
Was to redirect my fellow man
From love of sin
To love of good deeds,
To altruism
To tolerance
And righteousness.

The new found confidence
Granted to me by God’s
Gave me the will
To sing
To follow the harp,
My trembling words
Colouring the air
Gripping my listeners,
Binding them to the message
Within the spell of my songs.


In Old English
In the vernacular of my calling
And under the tutelage
In matters of the scriptures
Of Hild’s scholars
I continued to compose
To recite
To sing to the harp.

In time
I took my vows
And became a monk
Enriched by recognition
Of my gifts by my fellows
I led a devout life
Given to God
And to his servants on earth
Expressing my joy
In my heart-felt words
All coloured
Through my imagination
With images of the life
And landscape
Which I knew
From my own surroundings
These, transcribed by my brothers,
And spread through them
To other foundations across the land.


As I now know
My end approaches
I have fallen ill
And during my fever
Unusual as it was
I had a premonition of my death
This allows me
I am told
As a revered follower of God
To receive my last Eucharist.

This I now
My pillowed head
In full knowledge of
Promised Peace
Hoping I have been true
Throughout my life
To my calling
As Herdsman
And Poet.
And that
In due time
This will deliver me
Into God’s presence.


Whitby Abbey Ruins in Silhouette . . . Watercolour Wash … WHB – 1991

Tomorrow . . . ‘ Caedmon’s Hymn’ – the only extant poem known to be by Caedmon