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.
I absolutely refuse to celebrate Halloween, but I love Thanksgiving dearly. Almost every Thanksgiving in my life has wonderful, love-filled memories, and I always start celebrating the holiday early. So I’m beginning extra-early this year with this brand new poem. I realize that this holiday tends to be primarily an American holiday, but many people around the world do take time during the harvest season to celebrate and be grateful for the year’s bounty, so I hope it gives all of you a lift and a bit of extra joy for this time of year.
AH, THANKSGIVING, HOW I LOVE YOU!
a poem by Sandra Conner
Ah, Thanksgiving, how I love you!
Golden, crowning jewel of Fall.
Beacon of warmth and camaraderie,
Sending glad invitation to all:
“Gather to worship; gather to visit;
Gather to focus on all that’s worthwhile;
Feast from tables resplendent with harvest;
Feast on the love in a touch and a smile.”
All the year’s labors weigh heavy upon us;
All the world’s problems seem bigger by far.
But out from that wearisome struggle you call us,
And laying it down, we run to where you are.
And whether in cottages, mansions, or churches,
Community buildings or tables in parks,
We gather with gratitude full — overflowing;
To the Giver of blessings lift voices and hearts.
Then we return to life’s pattern awaiting.
Filled up with joy, we set off on our way,
Warmer and richer and kinder in spirit
For pausing to celebrate Thanksgiving Day.
I hope each of you can celebrate this Thanksgiving Day with someone you love.
Photo courtesy of The Graphics Fairy: http://graphicsfairy.blogspot.com/
I haven’t joined in on Jake’s Sunday challenges earlier because I thought I was going so many different directions on here anyway. But when I saw this one, loving Autumn as passionately as I do, I just couldn’t pass it up. So here goes. This photo was taken by a good friend and passed on to me as a gift. If you want to join in on the challenge too, here’s the link to Jake’s place: