On the menu today: journeys, limericks, and alliteration.
Today’s word prompt is journey. Write a poem about anything that word evokes for you, from the excitement of a trip you’re about to embark on, the mental progress you witnessed someone make, or the struggles, pleasures, and extreme emotions that travel can bring about. Today’s form is a limerick, and the device is alliteration.
I was surprised by the definition of limerick. I didn’t realize it was really just another poetic form. (Being only familiar with the Irish sort, that is — wink.) Not the easiest, I’m finding.
The greatest of journeys usually start
with frenzied packing before you depart.
But I started my quest
in a calm state of rest,
for my journey began within my heart.
At Journey’s End
If I lived alone my house would be
a little stone cottage by the sea.
With pens and ink
to help me think,
this surely would be heaven to me.
This is a poem I posted back in October not long after I started the blog. I’m going to use it again here since I’m kind of short on time tonight, but I’ll try to do a new one tomorrow. I THINK this is what alliteration is, anyway.
Like empty arms reaching back in time,
the vines crept through the pane-less windows
of the old abandoned house seeking signs of life,
finding only echoes of days gone by.
The high-pitched laughter of toddlers in the bathtub,
whispers of youthful conspirators from the porch,
mommy and daddy voices raised in anger in the bedroom
followed by soft, satisfied sighs of reconciliation.
And grandpa’s lullabies…
Lost in grief, the vine sags and weeps,
its sorrowing leaves covering the floor
in a final, fluttering embrace.