The storm of last night brought cool air
Tree frogs have much news now to share
Perfect weather for their rainwear
Clouds everywhere, clouds everywhere
Fog in the hollow tops the creek
This gift of gray clouds' cool not bleak
Sheer shawl fog adds its mystique
Veils of Batik, veils of Batik
The roosters in the hollow sing
Chorus of anthems loudly ring
Air holds song accelerating
God conducting, God conducting
Dear Fall, amaze us with your colors warm
the brilliant carmine, peach, and tangerine.
Weave a batik with more delicate charm
that glows and glints like lustrous opaline.
Bring the willful winds that chill the stale air.
Blow summer’s heat to our southern sister.
Fill the dry skies with nimbus clouds that flair
and revitalize us with their glister.
Let your winds sing a lullaby good night
while white snows begin to blanket our source.
We will soundly sleep dormant without blight
and let Mother Nature run through her course.
*Image of Fashions by EL.
Unique
I heard, exaggerations, so to speak,
Of where in the world their clothes ware is chic,
In India it's awesome said a Sikh,
Free-flowing sari so graceful and meek,
On Java, fabric prints known as batik,
Smooth Indonesians make profits they eke,
When in Afghanistan argued Derrick,
They wear burqas, fear not being *fasiq,
Changed from animal-skin times, that's unique.
2022 November 02
*1st Place*
Writing Challenge - Unburden a ''U'' Word
~~Constance La France: Judged 2022 November 12
*fasiq; an Islamic lawbreaker, a sinner.
Once a little girl named Monique
Dreamt of opening up a boutique
Between the creek and clinique
Thought long of every technique
Her sign above would be no antique
It would glow and actually speak
“Hello we’re MYSTIQUE -
Open every day of the week
Come on in, have a peek
We sell clothes that are chic
Indian silks from the Sikh
Colourful lace and batik
For women of every physique
You’ll love us, we’re unique
And for lunch, stay fill your beak
Try Mom’s soup of fenugreek and leek“
While others were playing hide-and-seek
Little Monique dreamt of opening her boutique
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Thought about over thirty years of Easter eggs
done up in a thousand different ways.
Finding late in the evening that the dregs
of eggs were spoiled and quickly to Safeway
to buy a few dozens to boil and dry,
then wax and dip and batik and paste
and make a mess, oops!, forgot to fix dye,
run to get some vinegar, have to waste
a few experiments that went awry,
oh well, we will just have to eat them with
some salt and pepper, then with quiet sly
steps throughout the house in greatest mirth,
in semi darkness hide the little oval
messages of love to be found by all.
That arts are ageless,
lies a maturity of the artists.
It also bears a meaningful message,
whose arts are border less.
In-flight Batik. 020816. 7:45AM.
Take me to a place where I belong
Where I can be free and recite my song
Where mountains kneel with valleys down to pray
The trees and flowers swing and sway
With vibrant colors, bold as silk-screened batik
Aromas abound that laugh and speak
Take me to that place where I can stay
To hear children laughing when they come to play
Where people join hands to celebrate
Communal spirit and contemplate
Take me there and let me be
A celestial being living in harmony
Brothers and sisters I hear your voice
Your words beckon me I’ve made my choice
I’ve now found the place I call home
Where Love Peace and Unity reside under Your dome.
Jan.28.2016 (referring to poetry soup)
Your style is unique
Each word very sleek
The poems never meek
Yet no bad critique
Humorous mystique
You never misspeak
Such lovely technique
All your rhyme so chic
Always tongue in cheek
Poetic batik
You kid me not Jan Allison You are a poetess of sublime rhyme. And are the smile and mirth of PS. Bless you.
A riposte to Jan's poem "I HUMOUR ICON - ICON YOU THAT I'M A POET"
~Written 15/04/2015~
Shane
The storm of last night brought cool air
Tree frogs have much news now to share
Perfect weather for their rainwear
Clouds everywhere, clouds everywhere
Fog in the hollow tops the creek
This gift of gray clouds' cool not bleak
Sheer shawl fog adds its mystique
Veils of Batik, veils of Batik
The roosters in the hollow sing
Chorus of anthemns loudly ring
Air holds song accelerating
God conducting, God conducting
"It isn't raining rain to me"
Only a garden down
Soon there'll be tomatoes for tea
Peas, beans, corn, squash _no frown
Clouds of gray set blue mood today
As the fireball sun peeks
Through cobalt to greet, all with rays
Of sand, on those clouds batik
Beginning line direct quote
Robert Loveman.
The poem made him famous.
He was orginally from Georgia.
From Wisconsin the American walked the streets of Lagos
To black Africa welcome! To the pearly continent
Cradle of creation, primordial of civilizations
To the thickest jungles, haven of gigantic elephants
Den of fiercest lions and colourful gazelles
Ours is the blazing sun, golden in the horizon
Rains in seasons in the rainforest
Wildest plantations, lush vegetations
The mighty oaks, cedars, and irokos
Our is the heights, the pinnacles
Kilimanjaro, a supral-archectrural piece
Olumo, a refuge, a fortess and a stronghold
The towering Zuma rocks, Idanre hills, and the Mambilia plateau
Ours is the depth, the length
The Nile, the Niger, aquatic splendour
The riches of the earth depth, oil diamond and gold
To us belong the ageless heritages, a living culture
The talking drums, the festivals and the dances
Ours are fashion and style, regal and noble,
Batik, adire, kente, Ankara and aso-oke
And flowing African milk, palmwine, burukutu
Ogogoro, kunnu, fura de nunu.
And to us the millennium bestowed
Welcome to Africa, the motherland Nigeria.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.