Tag Archive | writing

#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.

IMG_2161

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

img_2548-1

Previous Challenge Posts ~

Day 10 – Choose Them With Care

Day 11 – Playing With Words

#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.

img_2548-1

 

Beneath the Poet Tree

IMG_2161

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,
and words
would waltz
and words
would breathe,
upon a stage
they’d sing.
The words
would dance,
they’d be
dancing
with me,
while I dreamed
a paper dream.

© 2017 Crystal R. Cook