Category Archives: Rain

lady of Avalon

NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with white background
NaPoWriMo 2021 Button with black background

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i dream i’m drowning

it’s an old one

but it no longer owns me

now i’ve come home to avalon

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thoughts of rain awake me

the lady comes again for me

from across the levels blurred in

a banging of silver bangles

a breathing womb of grass and apples

a trembling of limbs still stuck in the suck

of muck-moist land that’s been drained for ages

until it rains; and it rains

.

she is ages older than me, yet young

she speaks an older tongue, voice

fizzy with dialects of scrumpy cider and musky crusts of ancient cheddar

echoes dance from dank chalk caves

wassail wassail wassail

and so it was

and so it is

.

i dream her lovely face

etched upon a sorrow of cloud

heavy as half a pound of moonlight

light as a fragrance of lemoncakes

i dream her silken garments

and steely armaments

reflected in the ancient lakes of this summer land

do you see me, she rasps

swirling me in underwater loves

she drags me to her breast where i rest

kisses the stone of my bones

unheeding of the summons of Merlin

defiantly ungifting trinkets to the kings

the legend of the lady

awaits a feminist twist

shhhh, she whispers, coming

and i dream myself asleep

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not a haiku

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ps

I moved the the isle of ancient avalon last year. Do you know where that is? Quite simply, Somerset in the West Country of the UK, near Glastonbury. I felt a pull to come here and so here am i. Still dreaming…

https://www.napowrimo.net

NaPoWriMo day 25

prompt is based on the aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live. Perhaps she will be the Madonna of the Traffic Lights, or the Mysterious Spirit of Bus Stops. Or maybe you will be addressed by the Lost Lady of the Stony Coves. Whatever form your dream-visitor takes, happy writing!

wear the yellow wellies

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pray for rain, for darkest sun

say the word storm til it hums, honey

in the base of your tummy

hurry-flurry from home

wear the yellow wellies, silly

the spotted overalls, the lightning gnomes

everyone forgets to

. . . . .

pack only a ring of bells

one ( or two ) cracks of shells

a smack of berg-a-mots and cloves

three ( or four ) knocks and shoves

for good luck

smatter in some syllables

shuck some pebble-marbles

for kicks and giggles

then

. . . . .

leave them out on the porch

bring a torch

go insid

where you hid

as a kid

flash-splash beam-scream mutter-whisper

call to all your jammy jars of sea foam whiskers

tickles

you kept for later

watch

cock your ear

the path is clear

corkscrew your self to where you are young

find the poem – ( fully-fledged )

bouncing on your tongue – right at the edge

left right where you left it

catch its skin in your pearly teeth

like light from the storm beneath

bubble up, laughing

in your teacup, paddling

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not a haiku

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https://www.napowrimo.net

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NaPoWriMo day 4: write a poem . . . in the form of a poetry prompt. If that sounds silly, well, maybe it is! But it’s not without precedent. The poet Mathias Svalina has been writing surrealist prompt-poems for quite a while, posting them to Instagram. You can find examples here, and here, and here.