Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge: Write a Fourteener — a poem on any subject but having seven iambic feet. Join the fun. There’s still plenty of time to get into the rhythm of writing a poem a day in honor of National Poetry Month. Click the link above to visit the main site and get the easy rules.
Since iambic heptameter lends itself particularly well to narrative poems, I thought I’d go that route.
The giant Oak had reigned supreme o’er farmer Webster’s woods.
But there’d been talk of late that ‘neath those woods lay soil quite good.
And then one day bulldozers came and men with churning saws,
The wood did spew; trees fell – not few – into bulldozers jaws.
The giant oak shook to his roots; his life he held quite dear.
And closer as the enemy came, he trembled hard with fear.
To be cut down and sawed into – the thoughts he could not bear.
And oh the shame – to be transformed into some wimpy chair.
But when the dozer charged his way and scoured to left and right,
It passed him by and left him there, his roots still clinging tight.
Soon all around had been laid bare: a sorry sight to see,
But then one morn, before the sun, came planters bearing seed.
And week to week, with gentle rain and warmest, friendly sun,
The seeds did sprout and then did bear their harvest one by one.
Now mighty Oak stands solitary sentry o’er the field,
And, season after season, hungry folks receive its yield.
And farmer Webster often stops to rest beneath Oak’s shade,
And blesses God for giving land and food for which he’d prayed.