Colors condescend here and mingle with perfect ease. Green dives into blue to create a calm combination. Peach perches on rocky terrain. I rise with the mist to kiss the clouds. A wondrous land beckons me far beyond the fragrance of fir trees. An empowering lift. A milky channel opens to welcome a weary soul.
An artist at work unfurling serenity breathing in colors her easel is eclectic divine power mentors her.
I walk into the forest in the month of October – a mosaic of colors, and wonder why it brightens my mood, adds a smile to my face and warms my heart. There is gold in the air but I have an aching desire to catch the drifting leaves – reminders of life passing by! The pine in my backyard doesn’t care.
Thanks to Colleen’s weekly TankaTuesday challenge, ( taste the rainbow) which has inspired me to create a tanka prose. Tanka is typically written in the 5-7-5-7-7: a five-line syllabic structure. Tanka prose always contains a title. One basic requirement: one paragraph, and one tanka.
Today’s challenge explores Ekphrastic poetry, inspired by visual art or photographs. Reena provided a piece of her artwork for this month’s challenge. Thanks to Colleen for the inspiration to write syllabic poetry.
I chose a new form: Octelle and have tried to write two poems. It was challenging as I had to keep in mind the rhyming scheme, while writing a syllabic form.
The Octelle is a poem consisting of eight lines, using personification and symbolism in a telling manner. The syllable count structure for this verse is 8/8/7/7/7/7/8/8, and the rhyme scheme is aa/bb/cc/aa.) The first two lines and the last two lines are identical (refrain).
echoes of green, crimson and blue pull me into aesthetic coup of colors that define life vague reflections croon with fife yearn for elusive tunes trapped in the maze of half moons echoes of green, crimson and blue pull me into aesthetic coup
Pine needles pierce deeper, as they reach out to gather the glow of glorious summer once again opening my youthful eye, yearning to touch the golden era that whizzed by unseen while my face was buried deep in the books.