The Moping Owl Complains..

[prokopton]

Thanks Weaver,
it will be a pleasant journey I hope,
at least an interesting one.

G

[Steven]

Hi, Geoff

to the harbingers of Spring, droning beetles,
drowsy tinklings, lowing herds and swallows
twittering, spread all out as frosty needles
soon will vanish, and fog has filled the hollows.

Some very clear and fresh visuals, sounds, and textures. Lots to like in the whole, but especially in this stanza.

[Donner]

What seems at first just jolly fun,
Ere long rankles, soon it irritates
Before April’s course has run,
Chafing jangled nerves, and grates.

Oh, sure. Not just one poem, but two that remind me of the torture I just volunteered myself for. (And for the 12th time, yet, you'd think I'd know better.) The meter could use some attention, but the rhymes are fun.

Donner

[prokopton]

Hi Steven,
thanks for reading.
"lowing herds" and drowsy tinklings" belong to Thomas Gray,
during NaPo one takes inspiration wherever one can find it.

G.

[prokopton]

yes, Donner, thank you for reading.

if it's worth doing once, twice is a treat.
12 times? I dunno, sounds a bit like masochism.
But hey, what's wrong with that?
A little masochism never hurt anybody.
S&M now, that's another matter.
What's next? Snuff poetry?

"The universe is weirder than we can imagine."

G.
Whoops! I think I just inspired myself.

[prokopton]

3. Priscilla & Charybdis

Our friend Alphonse has now been smitten
by two women. It's two weeks
since he heard the sirens call.

Once he was a free man, until Priscilla
sunk her hooks into his tender psyche
First his life was bliss, no man was happier!
We celebrated his good fortune,
back slapping all round. We thought, like he,
her mien was lovely, and well he should
surrender to her charms. But half a week ago
a damsel as well-blessed, blocked his path.
She drew him in with saucy wit well-aimed,
her silken gams, and swirling passage
was irresistible. Charys, she was named.

What to do? We pondered this.
Could we tie him to a mast,
bind him thus, until the mood was past?
Life is a voyage full of uncertainty
filled with promise, until a lass
or two, should happen by
with flashing eyes, a pouting lip,
with wit and charms to suck a man in
to dash upon the rocks, his ship.
Can a man avoid disaster when the flirts
with batting lashes, cross the room
their scented passing and swishing skirts,
their seductive laughter their siren call?
Not Alphonse! for sure that man has met his doom.


.

[anenome]

Hi, Nothing up the Sleeve replicates precisely my approach to the month, why do we do it I wonder! I'm trying the chilled approach but that's working even less well than the frantic approach, anyway happy NaPo, just doing some fluffing rounds, anenome

[prokopton]

Hah! Well thanks for stopping by and leaving a note, Anemone.
You have been warned and now can go well-armed
onwards, ever onwards.

best of luck,

G.

[cookala]

Heya Geoff! always a pleasure to read you. I really like your attention to imagery, sound and rhyme in these first 3, and def appreciate you wit re: napo - all so true! and esp this "No more March Hares and Mad Hatters/for thirty days poets, bits will scratch/in puzzlement, they'll gnaw on 'taters/April's here, NaPo's all that matters." that's brilliant! I've yet to pen a napo deceit this year, but I have already written a cat pome to answer your annual challenge.

[prokopton]

Heya Geoff! always a pleasure to read you. I really like your attention to imagery, sound and rhyme in these first 3, and def appreciate you wit re: napo - all so true! and esp this "No more March Hares and Mad Hatters/for thirty days poets, bits will scratch/in puzzlement, they'll gnaw on 'taters/April's here, NaPo's all that matters." that's brilliant! I've yet to pen a napo deceit this year, but I have already written a cat pome to answer your annual challenge.

That's nice, Cookie - except you are praising 5th Column's edit of my poem, not my actual poem! LOL
oh well, all's fair in Napo. I will be sure to pass on your compliments. I look forward to reading your cat pome, and good luck with the rest.

G.

[prokopton]

4. Wolves


I see them now, with the clarity of memory's eye,
myself, on the deck, coffee in hand
spellbound, listening to the roar of wind in the trees
on the slopes above while in the mists below
slink wolves between the firs.
They have come upon a clear-cut meadow,
still a gash in the land where trees were harvested,
swiftly, efficiently, raping the slopes;
the mud, in places, is still fresh. They pause.

Their shaggy coats moulting, but still whitish gray,
they appear one by one, then disappear enveloped by
sudden vapour. They tread on rotten snow
patches remaining in shady places. The breeze
moves the fur of their ruffs, they freeze,
stand motionless while nostrils wink, testing the air.
By the cast of their eyes and cautious tread,
they seem like spirits gliding through the forest,
elves on their way to the west, with their silent thoughts
of rage and regret, betrayed.


.

[Emily Bronte]

Priscilla and Charybdis is witty, strong stuff Geoff.

Glad you are here and going strong

[5th column]

Wow - I love the closing lines of this last. The bones in there are good and in some ways the close feels like the beginning?

[prokopton]

Priscilla and Charybdis is witty, strong stuff Geoff.

Glad you are here and going strong

Thank you, Em. Nice of you to stop by and comment.
G.

[kristalynn]

"They seem like spirits", yes, really like this one!