This week was a 'free' week at Poetry Thursday. Since I so enjoyed experimenting with forms last week I decided to do it again. Dana and Liz, see what you have wrought? So, here's my terzanelle about how I spent my time last weekend. Comments gratefully accepted; I feel like I am struggling with meter.
Oh - please don't forget to check out what other PTers have been up to this week.
Turning Flower Beds in Spring
Haul rotted leaves out to the compost bin.
Old husks must go – it’s time – their gift has passed,
so clear the way for new growth to begin.
No, nothing in the earth is meant to last
forever. Seasons always change and these
old husks must go. It’s time. Their gift has passed
into the roots. They nurtured and released
their essence: birth from death, the pulse of life.
Forever, seasons always change and these
things still remain. So ply the pruning knife
without remorse. Move on; you will not scar
their essence. Birth: from death, the pulse of life
returns. Breathe in the damp and fecund air
to taste the promise waiting to roar forth.
Without remorse move on. You will not scar
the heartwood. See? Strip out the old, the coarse;
haul rotted leaves out to the compost bin.
To taste the promise waiting to roar forth,
just clear the way for new growth to begin.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
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5 comments:
Most excellent piece Sasha! Spring gardens are engaging in so many ways.
Great minds...
--and so it goes--
...Rob
It felt good to see a terzanelle, though it does not strictly follow the rhyming pattern. Somehow the variation works.
Vey apt for this season. Turning Flower beds in spring.
I loved the message behind this poem- that change is inevitable but necessary and beautiful. Thanks, Sasha...
What an amazing, rich, and finely crafted poem, with the form being perfect for the content.
I'm not familiar with the form, so can't comment there, but I really liked the gardening scene and especially "Without remorse move on. You will not scar" where you bring a telling metaphor.
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