Autumn feast – A Sonnet, April Ekphrastic Challenge

John Law

Riot of fall colours, fall sweets
Blackberries, blueberries I see
Sweet berries my love likes to eat
Chestnuts falling from the big tree

The shiny apples makes you smile
The last tomatoes makes you purr
The blackthorn we leave for awhile
Until the frost makes them sweeter

What a bountiful autumn eve
Careful love, with the rose hip stalks
The rowan-berry we best leave
To the blackbirds and the red fox

He deserves a very tart snack
We’ll not get granny wood mouse back

©RedCat

Wanted something lighter after yesterday’s shivers, so I chose this picture because of all the striking colours, even if fall harvest feels a long way off when spring has barely started.

This sonnet is in tetrameter instead of the classical pentameter, just because I wanted to give that a try. 

To read other Sonnet’s by me click here.

To see all art and read all poems for today go to The Wombwell Rainbow.


Also shared with and read on Open Link Night #300 September Live.


John Law

“Am 68. Live in Mexborough. Retired teacher. Artist; musician; poet. Recently included in ‘Viral Verses’ poetry volume. Married. 2 kids; 3 grandkids.”

April Ekphrastic Challenge – GloPoWriMo 2021

Moonsea – Ekphrastic Challenge January 22

Kerfe Roig – Moonsea

Moon of dreams and craters
Rock of sunbeams and daters

Moon of rock and tide
Shadow of moonwalk and fireside

Moon of shadow and peaks
Valleys of libido and mystique’s

Moon of valleys and seas
Dust of beauties and ecstasies

Moon of dust and reflection
Promise of lust and seduction

Moon of the Goddess
Dreams and promise

©RedCat

Both the weft and warp of this poem are mine. The inspiration I owe thanks to the artist, a friendly word and a caring heart and of course the Moon herself.

For all art and poetry for today visit The Wombwell Rainbow.


Photo by Juhasz Imre on Pexels.com
Kerfe Roig

A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new.  Her poetry and art have been featured online by Right Hand PointingSilver Birch PressYellow Chair ReviewThe song is…Pure HaikuVisual VerseThe Light EkphrasticScribe BaseThe Zen Space, and The Wild Word, and published in Ella@100Incandescent MindPea River JournalFiction International: Fool, Noctua Review, The Raw Art Review, and several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/  (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/

Gothic Christmas Carol – 16 December


I

The Yule three stood there beaming in candlelight
Next to the altar of family ancestors
To ward off malevolent spirits of Midwinter night
To let no old wounds, sore or fester

This old blue-blooded family need it you’ll see
They suffer the faith of inherited sin
To ward off the ancient scrolls poverty prophecy
Two great-great-great aunts trapped the spirit of a djinn

The bound it within a flawless stone
Thinking nothing how it would affect nearby senses
To forevermore by the family heir to be worn
To grow with whispers of gory death, unthinkable offences

II

The family prospered and notoriety gained
The women wore fine jewels around melancholic, hysterical throats
The wealth, standing always tempered by a crazy stain
The men sowing madness hexed wild oats

The Djinn constant influence made it so
Their minds slowly cracked and shattered
Together with wealth and fame, their insanity grow
The family’s cursed herd, each generation, culled by a third 

Today’s there’s only one daughter of the clan
Tearing her hair, tears on her face, vowing to poverty agree
Talking loudly, all alone, about the touch of a man
Bring me a man, to fan my loins fire, and I will set you free

III

The Djinn told her to put the stone in smithy’s furnace heat
To see the castle gates securely barred
Then go, unlace, lay naked beneath the sheets
The stone exploded in flaming shards, setting fire to the yard

The stable-hand woke at the bang with a start
Eyes gleaming red with revenge fire
Never before eldritch lusts felt in his heart
He would be the new tyrant squire

She’d often dreamt, herself intertwined with the stable-boy in the hay
Sometimes, she’d even imagine him giving her spanks and lashes
Now possessed by the Djinn, he took her in every unimaginable way
Fulfilling every dark twisted fantasy, as everything burnt to ashes

©RedCat

Photo by Markus Spiske from Pexels

Written for Poetics – Exploring Gothic as a Literary Genre (Step into the realm with me) over at dVerse. Go and read the prompt. It contains lovely Gothic poems and an overview of the genre.

It took some thinking, and a night of dreaming, until I found my way back to that inglenook and one of those forbidden poems.

“The elements of Gothic Literature include, setting in a castle, an atmosphere of mystery and suspense, high and even over-wrought emotion. An ancient prophecy which is connected with either the former or present inhabitants of the castle. Omens, portents and visions. Women in distress and last and but not the least, supernatural or otherwise inexplicable events which take place in the duration of the novel.”

Marcel Rieder (1862-1942)

What is a Nomad without a Tribe?

Photo by burak kostak on Pexels.com

What is a nomad without a tribe?
Isolated
What is a witch without a coven?
Solitary
What is an actor without a play?
Quiet
What is a dancer without a partner?
Still
What is a singer without a voice?
Mute
What is a writer without a pen?
Silent
What is a poet without words?
Lost
What is a person without friends?
Lonely

Let love lead, live life befriended!

© REDCAT

Photo by Xi Xi on Pexels.com

GloPoWriMo 2020

DAY 1 – Build a New Start
DAY 2 – Beloved Bookstore
DAY 3 – Sunshine and Hail
DAY 4 – Isolation Dating
DAY 5 –Staring out a Windowpane
DAY 6 – Casanova Comes Closer
DAY 7 – Swirling Colors of my Mind
DAY 8 – White – Red – Black
DAY 9 – Different World After
DAY 10 – Spring Hay(na)ku
DAY 11 – Love – Hay(na)ku
DAY 12 – Make Art – Triolet inspired
by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell
DAY 13 – What did you think would happen
to a child left on my doorstep?
DAY 14 – Ballad of the Lost Poet
DAY 15 – Writer’s class – Hay(na)ku
DAY 16 – What is a Nomad without a Tribe?
DAY 17 – Pale Spring, Here Again, Nature Awake
DAY 18 – Spring Day in the Garden
DAY 19 – Close Couplets
DAY 20 – Lost in Love’s First Flush
DAY 21 – She Tasted Like Memory
DAY 22 – Struggling Mind
DAY 23 – Written in the book of dust
DAY 24 – At the end of every week, Friday-Cozy!
DAY 25 – Slip, Crack, Shatter
DAY 26 – Humans Really Don’t Know
DAY 27 – April Rain
DAY 28 – Greeting the Watch Horse
DAY 29 – Letter of Hope
DAY 30 – Witches Walpurgis Night Preparation

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