Ichabod Crane sprang from the brain
Of someone most deserving
Of Sunnyside, his proud domain.
His name? Washington Irving.
He also wrote a tale of note
About one Rip Van Winkle
Who found a sleeping antidote
To shoo away each wrinkle.
His home, intact, you can, in fact,
Both tour and pay a visit.
The costumed guide will not distract
From landscape most exquisite.
With river view, we wandered through
The rooms that Irving favored
And sampled life the way he knew
When simple joys were savored.
A worthwhile trip and here’s a tip –
Before you go farewelling,
The gift shop’s one you shouldn’t skip –
Cool souvenirs they’re selling!
Categories:
farewelling, history, writing,
Form: Rhyme
Desert days they stretch beyond, beyond the human frail
Like the heat of its haze, that waves goodbye to sanity’s hallucinations, to
A horizon of fans farewelling lost ridicule
Where only creatures dare hide in a place devoid of belief
Yet desert nights will mock the unaware, for beware the shivering thief
That slithers under sheets, stealing sips from thirsty dreams
Where logic conjures images poisoned by the drowned
But if your dreams could see, they would show you colours and wonderment
A sky full of diamonds dripping with a vastness so pure
All watched by a moon; bone white against the night
In a cathedral of dimensions and contrast known only to God
Nette Onclaud’s Poetry Contest: In the Desert
Mark Trichet
14 September 2014
Categories:
farewelling, allusion, day, dream, night,
Form: Free verse