Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt challenges you to also write a love poem, one that names at least one flower, contains one parenthetical statement, and in which at least some lines break in unusual places.
Since “loved and lost” is a frequent theme of poets, I’ll give this a whirl. I’m adding a twist, though: I’m doing it as an abecedarian poem.
And now, my love, because I can (indeed I must) carry on, casting off desperation and dolor, even if I still ache for your arms, your voice. Good things, they tell me, have but transient lodging in our lives, juxtaposed with kabooms of dreams and plans. Love is for earth-time – this merry-go-round of nebulous bitter and sweet on which I’ve flung myself. (Perhaps dreaming overmuch?) Quietly I begin reconciling love to truth swallowing the ache, I take comfort: “Time heals all wounds.” Useful – or useless? – platitude, valerian haze with hopes of waking in some Xanadu, heart mended, and you’ve drifted into that zone where all is forgiven.
I’m adventuring into some unusual forms of poetry for National Poetry Month. The form I’m posting now, I found listed at The Writer’s Digest site. It’s a treochair, which is an Irish tercet form with alliteration.
Rules for a TREOCHAIR: Variable number of tercets (three-line stanzas) Three syllables in the first line, seven in the second, and seven in the third. First line rhymes with the third. Treochairs employ a lot of alliteration.
Bashful sorts like Milton and Mike oft’ tell fate their dreaming thwarts.
Never bold enough, their arms stay empty; no sweetheart they’ve told
deepest dreams; they’re too shy for romancing by mellow moonbeam.
Courage be a godsend to these misters! The gals will agree:
happy hearths are acquired by lads who dare to risk their hearts.
“Why’s all this traffic on the road this morning?”
“Big country music jamboree near Regina. Starts at noon, every first of August.”
“Fast food places will be packed. Hope we can find a table when we’re ready to stop.”
“Feels funny, you know. All these folks heading for a party and we’re going to say our last goodbye to dear Aunt May. Solemn music, tears and tissues.”
Two hours later, as the funeral started, they were surprised to hear Garth Brooks singing “If Tomorrow Never Comes.”
Note/Confession: Funeral music has changed a lot, I thought as we listened to “Born To Be Wild” at the end of the service for my brother-in-law. Which gave me the idea for this story, but Google had to help me with this one. I’ve never heard this song, but read the words and it looked like something that might fly at a funeral — the general theme being, “Say those loving words today to the people you love, in case this is your last chance and tomorrow never comes.”
There is an annual Country music Jamboree every year at Craven a small town not far from Regina, SK. At least there was before COVID hit.