NaPoWriMo 26 – Kennings

For day 26, some kennings. Bjorn at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads presented the concept of Kennings. Or compound noun combinations.

My impromptu attempt 🙂

~~~

A leaf-fall. A leaf

falls on to the forest floor.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

A heart-knock. Someone

knocks on my heart boarded up.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

A tune-lilt. Lilting

tunes slowly take me apart.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

A death-wish. Dying

to the past my only wish.

Beyond that, silence.

~~~

Creative February 28 – Ode to summer

Today is officially the last day of summer.
An ode seemed the best way to say goodbye…

ODE TO SUMMER

Summer,
spreading, sparkling, sunlit
seduces me into her simmering haze
until I rise
a glittering mote
into her expansive golden arms
her warm pulsating heart

It is easy to lose myself
all sense of identity lost
in the frenzied heart throb of a season
where all things rise to greet the sun
In one unending exultation

Summer, queenly, majestic.
as though Spring, that debutante princess
having strutted her freshness
of tender leaves and sprouting seedlings
has ripened into a delicious woman.
Who has wrested the secrets of life
from harsh Nature and
having won the battle wears her success
in medals of ripening fruit
lush dresses of deepening green
her hair adorned with flowers,
and tiaras of butterflies, bees and birds

Brazen and wanton,
laughing at her celestial lover.

Summer,
when Nature breaks the cold cruel curse
of winter and offers a blessing
a reward for patience
a medal for forbearance
pinned to Earth’s breast
throws upon it
a congratulatory cloak of verdancy.

Summer,
the season of the cicada
who shedding its shell
rises in the hundreds
its ululating mating call
frantic and fervid
the ultimate ode to summer

~~~

Creative February 27 – My various selves

I glance at the mirror
on the way to the next chore.
Is that a stranger?
Forehead furrowed,
focussed face, grim,
a burdened Atlas.

Then I catch
the twinkle in the eye
the smile lurking at
the corner of the mouth.
As if caught out in the game.

A catch-me-if-you-can
grinning gamine
hiding behind a tired facade
breaks through.
A cheeky, intrepid sun.

I wonder then,
about my outward self,
the one that others see
that bears little likeness
to the inner me.
Montages that dwell,
and morph and grow
in others’ minds.

So varied, so unalike
as though in each of them
dwells a different me..

~~~

Creative February 25 – Revenge

(55-word flash fiction)

Revenge

The boy had killed its mother. The spider waited for its chance to avenge. Finally, it saw him at the open window. It jumped, aiming for his face. Stunned, the boy lost his balance, fell backwards, hit his head against the bed-post and passed out. No one heard the thud. He bled to death.

~~~

Creative February 23 – Age

.

AGE

my mother fades, as though
time was an eraser, erasing
bits of her, slowly but surely.
desires, memories, abilities
fade in steadfast succession
leaving behind holes like
she was the lead star in a poster
of a movie no longer playing.
the colours of her visage
once vibrant now fading,
its lines blurring, patchy in
parts, frayed at the edges.

I wonder how she feels about
this dying of summer, this
insidious takeover of autumn.
does she feel the sap’s steady
slow-down in her veins?
does she dread the night
that it might be her last?
does she mind turning into
just an echo of the melody.

your soul is indestructible,
they say. nothing is born
nor dies. maybe it’s my
mind that’s playing a trick.
conjuring up a movie where
there is nothing but light.

~~~