To HEAL the HURT

An Etheree is a 10-line poem in which each line follows a syllable count that matches the line number. For example, the first line has one syllable, the second has two, etc. The poem is unrhymed but has rhythm, meaning, imagery, and sometimes an underlying second meaning.23 May 2017.’

The etheree can take a variety of different forms, but for this,  my first attempt,  I have kept things simple (if that is the correct word for a tricky exercise) and hopefully straightforward.

The photograph was taken by me earlier on the North Sea coast of Yorkshire.

She

Was late

After  nine

Walking slowly

Along the seashore

With only one purpose

Looking for his sand imprints

The staunch assurance in his stride

Resolution  taut as pre-stressed steel

Hoping against hope she’d find him weeping

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.

Lustic Limerick #4

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Over the next five weekdays I give you…

A Limerick every other day
To keep my Covid Blues away …

Suzie gets what Suzie wants
When Suzie starts to cry
No wonder why
Her little sigh
Can always make me cringe and die.

While Time Ticks On: 2-word Tales #15

Pen&Wash-WHB

WHILE TIME  TICKS  ON

Time tells
Its tale
Tick tock
Tock tick

If truth
Be told
When time
Runs out
I won’t
Be stressed
I won’t
Be tired
Just sad
Wist-full
Pen-sive
Love-sick

Yet still
Hell bent
To start
With zeal
Pre-pared
To do
Just what
It takes
To live
A-gain

Next time
In peace
Con-cord
Re-pose
While time
Still there
Ticks on

 

Songs My Mother Sang

Song Book: Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The songs were of chill and anguish,
Sad songs with wistful themes,
Telling of loss and longing,
Songs of uncertain dreams.

Wistful, anxious, plaintive,
Sung in the dark days of war,
As though no end to suffering
Would reach us evermore.

She sang of the wandering gypsies,
The old lady sweet and kind,
Of old Barbara Frietchie’s flag,
And the boys who were left behind.

But though her words were sombre
I knew as she held me tight,
Her clutch was so warm and tender
The darkness would turn to light.

 

 

 

 

Sad Sky

Photo by Simon Matzinger on Pexels.com

 

The Sky is Sad today

Its Clouds Weep bitter joyless Tears

While Winter Winds arouse the foam-topped Waves

Would that they Wash away my burgeoning Fears.

 

Roland’s Rest

Following the sad and sudden passing away last week of my beloved wife, Judith, I shall not be publishing any of my planned observations, poetic thoughts, or photographic records during the coming week.

I apologise also if my viewing of and comments on the postings of those who I follow and who follow ‘Roland’s Ragbag’ will also, regrettably, be limited.

‘THAT LOVE MAY LIVE’ – A Story In Four Haikus

Image . . . Pinterest

 

SADNESS

The heavens opened 
On my hopes for sun and warmth
Leaving me bereft

DESPAIR

As the waters rose
So my spirits with them sank
I thought love lay lost

HOPE

But I was quite wrong
For Nature wove its magic
Showing me the truth

TRUTH

Look upon the rain
As summers need to renew
And keep love alive

 

WORDSWORTH: ‘A Slumber did my Spirit Seal’

(Poem No.40 of my favourite short poems)

I posted Wordsworth’s poem   ‘She dwelt among the untrodden ways’ on the 1st August 2016.   Wordsworth’s ‘Lucy’ poems are laden with wistfulness and melancholy, but the simplicity and delicacy of their language, and the directness and aptness of their rhyme, have always touched me with their beauty and tenderness.  Below I print another of these short poems from the ‘Lucy’ series, usually known by their first line …  ‘A Slumber did my Spirit Seal’

Burne-Jones … ‘Sleeping Beauty’

A Slumber did my Spirit Seal

A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years. 

No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth’s diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees. 

By:  William Wordsworth

 

To Absent Friends

Newton-under-Roseberry Churchyard … Photo Collage – WHB Oct.2016

As the distended rollers break
Upon that ocean shore
I think of all the hearts that beat
But now will beat no more.

Friends who were once so close to me
Whose lives with me were one
Who now have lost their lust for life
Lost it, and have gone.

Sadness is no gift to sorrow
But memories linger on
It’s when I watch the ocean’s waves
It’s them I think upon.

Why this should be I do not know
For me there’s no release
It is the breathing of the waves
Confirms our own will cease.

Perhaps it is their constancy,
Their never ending thrust
Confirms our own ephemeral lives
Will end soon, as they must.