This Spring the dog and I will mosey through
vast fields of flowered sod I failed to till.
Unhurried clouds drift 'cross a sky pale blue,
and on these days the sun-warmed air is still.
The copse of trees that fringe the distant creek
are an oasis when one's weary, spent.
There's wondrous shade if we're now feeling weak;
a well with working pump seems Heaven-sent.
But leisured walks don't ease this loss of love
or hide the fact my wife's forever gone.
Her gravestone sits upon a knoll above
a weed-choked bog where frogs and fat trout spawn.
Though fish and flowers sprout anew in Spring,
Death's final! And no balm will Nature bring.
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| Writing Prompt |
Compose a poem in the style of your favorite poet, living or deceased. Identify your poet in the Author's notes. Your have the leverage to use more current English, if your poet writes/wrote in the English of his or her time. However, incorporate the general style/format of the poet in your poem.
Word count: 100 to 300 words, title and author's notes not included. |
Author Notes
My favorite poet is Robert Frost who often wrote about his walks around the countryside. He used many forms, but I chose to emulate his sonnets.
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