It comes from time to time upon a wind
that wafts aromas fragrant to a mind
now wakened from long sleep.
And yet, perplexed, he is resigned
to yet again concede his own defeat,
a yoked, unequal partner, when they meet
as man and muse combined.
Then unannounced, it parts and leaves him much chagrined.
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A 'Mistress Bradstreet' stanza - 10a:10b:6c:8b:10d:10d:6b:12a
“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." ~ Anne Bradstreet
Winter’s quick wind slips shadows through my soul,
Risking dawn’s light, leaving a mournful glow.
Deprived winking stars, moon will still console,
Grasping night with promise of graceful flow.
Wintery breath clasps the silent snow’s fall,
Rescuing each flake with cool, frosty thanks.
Gasping at the dance, beauty not so small,
Braving the night, gentling even snowbanks.
Wintertime comes and goes, leaving light trails,
Glistening joys, falling from the night skies,
Racing to meet life with enticing tales,
Memories of sweet love that never dies.
Winter’s easy light glows into the night,
Moving souls to hear its legend so bright.
I pick up their idle chatter five days of the week.
Conversation with other passengers, I never seek
to learn of a secret one of them might privately leak.
But try as I might, I cannot help but overhear
a new recipe she tried, or the reason for his fear.
Sometimes, I wish I was deaf, at least in one ear!
I try reading my newspaper and ignore the prattle,
but often it's louder than the train car's rattle.
I'm not interested in the gossip of their tittle tattle.
At least the man with the cigar, smokes it outside,
or I'd take another tram. Cigar stench I can't abide.
I live in the burbs, so it's a long way home I ride.
Today, there's a young lady who wouldn't take a seat.
She looks worried, or at least somewhat browbeat,
like the people I work with down at Dun & Bradstreet.
I often wonder what's on the young conductor's mind.
Does he despise his job because he feels confined?
I'm off at the next stop, where I leave them all behind.
the corner of her mind, a shadowed thing
has reared its ugly head to bring her down
it always coincides
with when the world goes dark and brown
it does not matter that it has a name
as years go by, it's always just the same
dons a funeral gown
and curls inside herself and bravely smiles till spring
——————
for the Painting Prompted Poetry Contest
sponsored by Lisa YY
written on 10/20/22
using image #2
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/mistress-bradstreet-stanza-poetic-forms
The exit ramp looms large just up ahead,
though still an unknown distance ‘round the bend,
a terminus of sorts.
Perhaps a point from which to send
us out of time constraints, into the now,
the means by which remain unknown, just how
exactly, this all ends.
To fret, a waste, ’tis said, so I shall trust instead.
And yet, this ideation blooms within
my mind, a frequent fascination that
with other thoughts, comports.
If only now, is there no then,
and sequencing of time, thus obsolete,
as all arrive en mass, surprised to meet?
The world I know is flat;
my finitude stretched thin, constrained to trust again.
—————
Another fun one, a Mistress Bradstreet stanza: 10a-10b-6c-8b-10d-10d-6b-12a
This one comes from a notion from reading Matthew 25, in the Last Judgment. All would have died at different times, but on that day, all were surprised, hence the idea of different departures, all arriving at now.
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This will be the third time I've added sponsor info. I do not know what is happening here...
for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written on 10/13/22
English born Anne Bradstreet
first US poet,so quite a feat
'if ever two' her famed opening line
ironic with marriage now sadly in decline
You try to fly
I live to write
Together we form a holy union
Can you Feel the words moving through?
Moving from tip to tip
End to end
They branch out into a wing span
Try to take flight off of novel ideas
Discovering true novelty lies just out of reach
Floating in the sky amongst a sea of predecessors
So Unlike you and I
Shakespeare, Poe, Bradstreet
Floating oh so high
Floating oh so high
And so you try to fly
Attempt to take off
But stand frozen still instead
Wings dampened by the fear of falling
The fear of failing to bear the weight of history
Echoing from the sky
They call to me
Tell me I am home
(whispering)You my dear are a writer
Inspired by the bard but unique,
Creative, original
Be not afraid to take flight
Into the dark of the night
Though your fears try to fill you with woe
For you may discover
A poet like no other
A poet with time to grow
And together you and I form a holy union
Together we not only fly
We soar
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