Strange Wind Blowing
a Crown Oddquain poem
Strange
wind blowing,
a cold harbinger
of darker things to follow
soon.
Much
closer now
than the day before,
much closer now than sages
know..
Yes,
bad fortune
is nigh upon us,
and yet we will not listen
still.
Do
we forget
every past lesson,
all those we lost in senseless
war?
Blast
us into
mass oblivion,
let nature grow the garden
new.
Oddquain is a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of seventeen syllables distributed 1, 3, 5, 7, 1 in five lines, developed by Glenda L. Hand.
Crown oddquain-a five stanza oddquain sequence
Shadow Poetry - Poetry Types - Oddquain
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