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#OctPoWriMo (day 12) Beneath the Poet Tree

DAY 12

Prompt ~ Imagination Stands in the Road

My current WIP has moved into the drivers seat, and as I am just a passenger on this journey paved in ink, I must follow where it leads. So, again, I’m resurrecting old words that once stopped to play with me. 

Not long ago, I typed poetry to a page, I’m not certain where my mistake was made, but it was auto corrected to poet tree. My original intent was lost, and something new began to bloom, the tale of The Poet Tree was born.

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I’ll tell you
a tale
once shared
with me,
of a magical place
and the
Poet Tree,
where muses
dance in the
gentle breeze,
and butterflies fly
with gossamer wings.

It’s been told
a word
was planted,
and a tree began
to grow,
the trunk rose
high above,
the roots reached
far below.

Her branches lifted
toward the sky,
upon each leaf
a poem
was writ,
she shaded
wandering scribes,
who chose
that place
to sit.

Some say
the tree
called out,
to those it felt
would hear,
they sensed a
gentle pull
when they
dared to
venture near.

They say
the leaves
would whisper,
in softly spoken
rhyme,
with pure and
perfect recitation,
line by
lovely line.

They felt a
temperate presence,
like a ghost
from days
of old,
weaving words
around them,
so the story has
been told.

With unseen
inspiration,
their words
began to spill,
filling full
their parchment,
emptying
their quills.

Oh, how I long
to hear,
her softly
whispered plea,
to take
my place
and rest
and write
beneath the
Poet Tree.

With pen
in hand
and heart
agleam,
I’d script
the hopes
and thoughts
inside me.

Words would waltz
and words
would breathe,
her words
would sing,
they’d sing
to me.

And I
would
slumber
neath her branches,
and dream
a paper dream

© 2017 Crystal R. Cook

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Previous Challenge Posts ~

Day 10 – Choose Them With Care

Day 11 – Playing With Words

#OctPoWriMo (day 9 of 31) Twisted Wonderland

DAY 9

~ Alternative Prompt ~

Pull a book off your shelf and randomly open it up to any page. The first word or sentence you land on, write from there. 

 

~ Page 57 ~

“We have to go, Alice.”

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Cheshire Cat is angry,
the caterpillar’s dead,
the flowers lost their voices,
and it seems you’ve lost your head.
 The mushroom’s all been eaten,
the drink has been all drunk,
the rabbit hole is closing,
and time . . . time is almost up.
Tick, tock, tock, tick,
don’t jump over the candlestick,
poor rabbit already burned,
oh, it’s a nasty little trick.
Now, my dear, it’s time for tea,
beside the Hatter’s grave,
Dormouse is expecting us,
 you know he hates to wait.
He might just dig him up (again)
he can’t stand to drink alone,
surely you don’t want to sit (again)
beside poor Hatter’s bones.
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum,
have made some walrus stew,
we must hurry along, or we’ll be late,
and I’ll be blaming you.
 I’ve been meaning to ask,IMG_2659
but keep remembering to forget,
where was it you were going,
when you and I first met?
No matter now, of course,
you’ll never find your way.
Ah, but it’s been fun,
too bad you couldn’t stay.
Just think of all you’ve done,
since curiosity killed your cat,
Did you get a taste for blood?
Is that why you came back?
Was it to pet the Jabberwocky?
Did you mean to set him free?
Now he’s loose, you silly goose,
he’s been feeding on the queen.
Were you expecting someone?
There’s a knocking all about.
Never mind, it’s only me,
come again to get you out.
Hello? It’s me, It’s Alice,
I’ve come to fetch myself again.
I know I must be in there,
though I’m not certain where I’ve been.
Time is of the essence,
the hourglass, it’s almost out of sand,
and me and Alice, as you know,
belong in Wonderland.
Again, my dear, the answer’s no,
she can’t come out to play,
not today and not the morrow,
 . . . she’s still locked away.

 

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Previous Challenge Posts ~

#OctPoWriMo (Day 4 of 31) Where Does Poetry Hide?

My Words by Crystal R. Cook

DAY 4

(it’s day 8, I caught up, then fell behind, still writing)

Prompt – Where Does Poetry Hide in Your life?

Poetry is everywhere

* * *

It flows round me and within me, it’s in the air I breathe,
it’s in the shadows that I cast, and in my midnight dreams.

It’s in the tears I won’t let fall, and in the ones I have to weep,
it’s in the honest truths, I do not dare to speak.

It’s hiding in my weakness, it roars within my strength,
it’s in my greatest victories, and in my worst defeats.

It’s in my every heartbeat, it’s where my love resides,
it’s in battles I must fight, it’s where my doubt and faith collide.

It’s there when I lose hope, and when my hope’s renewed,
it tiptoes through my nightmares, it’s in my dreams come true.

It’s in my day to day, my yesterdays and tomorrows,
it’s in my pleasure and my pain, in my happiness and my sorrow.

It’s in my stops and starts, and in the breaking of my heart,
it’s with the thing I sometimes fear, may be hiding in the dark.

It’s part of all my ins and outs, and all my in-betweens,
it’s in everything I imagine, it’s in everything I’ve seen.

It’s in words which I have spoken, and those I’ve left unsaid,
it walks among the living, it whispers with the dead.

It lies beside the monsters, underneath my bed,
it’s everywhere I go, and it’s where I dare not tread.

It’s in what I’ve whispered, it’s in what I’ve spoke,
it’s in promises I’ve kept, and promises I’ve broke.

It’s in everything I do, in everything that shapes me,
it’s in the fabric I am made of, it’s in the things that break me.

It’s in what I’ve hidden, it’s in what I’ve found,
that’s where my poetry hides, that’s where my poetry abounds . . .

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~ Previous Challenge Posts ~

#OctPoWriMo 2017

Day 1 How Did You Get here?

Day 2 – We Write Because We Must

Day 3 – Cherita Poem – Metal

#OctPoWriMo (Day 3 of 31)

 

DAY 3

(it’s still day 4, I’ve almost caught up with the crowd! )

Prompt – The Taste of Metal

Write a Cherita using the following prompt as inspiration – The Taste of Metal

A cherita is a form of poetry referred to as hexostitch. It is a 6 line, 3 stanza poem. The first stanza is 1 line, the second, 2, and the third, 3. Cheritas are typically untitled and unrhymed, each cherita should tell a tale.

(Sometimes I follow directions, sometimes I use them as coasters. There is metal in my cherita, it just isn’t being tasted . . .)

* * *

Small metal box, cold to the touch, wrapped in the tulle of an old wedding veil.

Frail and fragile hands caress the top, lift the latch, reach inside.
Watercolor eyes, wet with tears, blink and stare at the treasure within.

One by one she holds them. Word by word she reads them. Each fading page brings memory back to life, she holds his words like she once held his hand, and spreads her wings to join him.

 

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Previous Challenge Posts

#OctPoWriMo 2017

Day 1 How Did You Get here?

Day 2 – We Write Because We Must

#OctPoWriMo (Day 2 of 31)

 

DAY 2

(really, it’s day 4, still late to the party)

Prompt – We Write Because We Must

Free write for ten minutes stating, “We write because we must” 

* * *

We write because we must . . . because the alternative might be madness.


Sometimes words take us by the hand and lead us to the page, we slip off our shoes and dance with them, dance with them for days. We give them reign and let them roam, following were they go, and when we tire, we lay them down, off to rest they go.

Sometimes they beg to rise, once we lay down them down to sleep. We haven’t the time, we need to rest, we pray their souls to keep. Just for a while, precious words, for a while please be still. But with their silent pleas and sorrow, they lead us to the quill.

Sometimes they command, demand attention and release. Overwhelm our thoughts and take control of all our dreams. Not to be ignored, they rage, lest we put them on a page.

There are those among us who can quell the voice within, for others, the only way to quiet them is with a page and pen.

We write to free ourselves, and set others free as well. We write because there’s stories, so many stories we must tell. We write to right the wrongs we see, to fill in voids and blanks. We spread out words before us, and within them, we escape.

We write to soothe our souls, to scream in silent sound, we write to fill the silence with a different kind of sound. We write to find out who we are and what’s inside us.

We write . . . we write, because we simply must.

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Previous Challenge Posts

#OctPoWriMo 2017

Day 1 How Did You Get here?

#OctPoWriMo (day 1 of 31)

DAY 1

(really, it’s day 4, but I’m late to the party)

Prompt – How did you get here?

Forged in fire,
tempered with faith,
in battle I’ve broken,
been mended by grace.
Wounded warrior,
still standing to fight,
shrouded in darkness,
bathing in light.
I stand before God
courageous and scared,
I stand before God,
my soul laid bared.
Mountains I’ve climbed
have filled me with strength,
the miles I’ve traveled
have given me wings.
I tell of my journey
in verse line and ink
in poetry and prose
I breathe and I think.
Chapter by chapter
my story is told
my heart,
my heart is beating,
on the pages you hold.
Every path I have walked,
every detour I’ve trodden,
are mapped on my soul
and never forgotten.
Every step, every stumble
is writ upon my heart,
an unfolding, living story
in which I play a part.

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The Qwiet Muse Follow Giveaway

Ya’ll have heard of Facebook, right? It’s been around for a while now, all the cool kids hang out there (I do, so . . . )

So here’s the thing, The Qwiet Muse has a home away from home on the book of face, and It’s occurred to me I’ve never formally invited any of you to stop by.

The Qwiet Muse

I’m an introverted, slightly less than normal writer-type, so social graces are often lost on me. I’m working on it.

That said, I would like to cordially invite you to click on over and say hello! Feel free to get comfy, click like and come back anytime, the door will always be open.

I have a present for you 

You can use any of the links in this post or just look a little way down over there on the right side of this page and you’ll see my little Facebook box.

imageNow, if you click on it and likeThe Qwiet Muse on Facebook this week, you might get a little something in your mailbox from me.

In one week, next Friday evening, I’ll be randomly selecting one new follower for a giveaway, it’s not like a million dollars or anything, but it’s something. Just a little token to say thank you for following.

To enter, simply like The Qwiet Muse on Facebook and leave me a comment under the Giveaway post to say hello and introduce yourself so I can add your name into the random drawing. If you’re a blogger and have a Facebook page, drop me a link (here or on Facebook) so I can leave some love on your page as well!

I’m looking forward to seeing you there!

I’m not leaving out those who already follow me on Facebook! If you’ve already followed there, but haven’t subscribed to the blog, pop on over, subscribe and leave me a comment on the giveaway post to enter the drawing as well! If you’re not a WordPress subscriber, you can still get new posts via email.

I’ll be holding more giveaways and some contests in the coming months, so stay tuned and join in . . .

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