It was really cold, dull weather today. Once I'd washed and hung out the dog's bedding I came back inside and, avoiding all the things that I should have been doing, sat down to have a go at Tom Stephenson's Sonnet Poetry Challenge.
Here's my entry, Shakespearean metre, (ababcdcdefefgg) and 'Rupert' style. (Bear, that is, sadly not Brooke!)
When I consider how my days are spent
with aching back and mud upon my knees
and all the effort and the hopes that went
in nurturing the flowers that would please.
My clothing in the 'Wurzel Gummidge' style,
patched elbows and the trousers held with string
attending to my garden all the while
giving great care to every little thing
while bugs attack and caterpillars chew
and slugs destroy with relish and their slime
and birds and beasts, and people too,
care not for all the time
I lavish on my little plot, 'tho all's worthwhile to me
when eating home-grown produce or one perfect bloom I see.
Here's my Bloggers' Challenge, to produce a haiku, a Japanese form of poetry that is made up of fourteen syllables arranged in three lines of five, seven and five syllables.
Haiku form is short
just five, seven, five we're taught.
Entire concepts caught.
( The last line is incorrect if you pronounce 'entire' correctly as three syllables!)
Even a small seed
in an earth bed and well fed
will flower like love