In your search for a way to live your dream
Make sure its better than what you’ve got
Before you leave the pond and swim upstream
In your search for a way to live your dream
Make sure its not just an empty scheme
Promising you somethings that are not
In your search for a way to live your dream
Make sure its better than what you’ve got
Triolet
What can I say,
About this day?
If my wish were a horse,
I’d have used force,
And just galloped away,
Have my way, and not stay.
But determination won,
And I didn’t run!
This day was not fun,
But now it’s done.
I didn’t give up!
I drank of its bitter cup,
And I came thru,
Battered ‘tis true,
A bit worse for the wear,
But I don’t care!
I didn’t taste defeat,
And Victory’s so sweet!
Rhyme
Listen and learn from
Amazing language of trees
Communicating
Rooted together as one
Sensitive to each need
Tanka
We humans would do well to learn from nature.
For More Info Read This Article:
Plant a little seed
Of Kindness everyday
You reap what you sow
Senryu
Ananias lied
Immediately died
Sapphira did too
Fear and trepidation grew
And spread thru the church worldwide
Tanka
Mama, Mat’ or Màna
Mom or Mor
Mzaa, Mãe, Mère or Mamma
Syllable Lune
How Many Ways Can You Say Mom?
https://wonderopolis.org/wonder/how-many-ways-can-you-say-mom
Life’s on rerun
Nothing new under the sun
It all has been done
Haiku
The thing that hath been, it is thatwhich shall be; and that which is done isthat which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after. Ecclesiastes 1: 9-11
Poetry or Prose? Only the scholar knows what label thoughts on paper take or whether lines run together or break, the rules. Do I write to please a scholar, or to empty my head of floating syllables that wake me in the night? My answer is that I must ignor the scholar’s frown as I write down those words, thoughts, feelings in my head, waiting to be said, before they fly away to the land of dread, where they are doomed to fade away beneath piles of broken dreams and things unspoken, left to lie and die in the dust of lost opportunity and missed chance. Form can be a friend, I treasure it to no end, but there are times when thoughts run free and words won’t bend to fit in a syllabic line. So, prose then, can be my friend, as I randomly write into the night, words running ahead the thoughts in my head, tempting my fingers to tap the keys and create a space for them to live on paper.
Prose?
Mind is meant to move
Stagancy must be removed
River keeps moving
Haiku
Haiku Horizons Weekly Challenge Week 218 Prompt: Move
Inspired by:
Dove seranades
Jay Dances to his own tune
Morning bird watching
Haiku Horizons Weekly Challenge Week #217 Prompt: Tune
(Off Prompt)
Leonas Lines--Poetry Plus 