I am joining in with d’Verse Poets challenge to write a a cinquain. I’ve chosen an English cinquain with a rhyme scheme of A-B-A-B-B. There are no length requirements for the lines.
Pride is what I should feel,
but past hurts and future fears
leave me with regrets real.
Stony silence sounds like jeers;
cheeks wet with a mother’s tears.
As I continue to grow old
and look to the end, I wonder
what does the future hold?
Are we doomed to be asunder,
or will your hatred fold?
For this week’s Quadrille at d’Verse Poets, we are to include the word sound. I’m also sharing for the photo prompt at Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie, although it is an old photo of mine.
Late at night
lying in bed
wishing we were
I strain to hear
the slightest sound,
a hint of presence:
your light breath
the vast void to
caress my cheek,
if only to say
you still love me.
Nothing so sweet as the scent of a rose,
long -stemmed with ruby red petals
tickled gently as I held it to my nose.
Intoxicating perfume imprinted a
memory in my heart–the scent of a rose
always carries me back to innocence,
sweet innocence, as young love grows,
and fades into the past as we mature.
No regrets for this love and life I chose–
children and responsibilities take control;
No longer lingers the scent of a rose.
Still kind of crazy in my world, so I’ve joined several prompts together. I am writing about Perfume for Real Toad’s Thursday challenge. The form of the poem is the Fold, which was an earlier challenge at Real Toads. I am also linking to d’Verse Poets for their challenge of writing about a memento.