Day 9 NaPoWriMo Persona poem

Today’s prompt is to write in another persona. I’m a bit late today as my brother is here visiting, but in order to keep with the flow I have “cheated” a bit in revising an older poem. This one is in the voice of Eleanor of Aquitaine.

Eleanor’s Lament  (Henri has not come)

My steps take me
again to the place of wailing
behind castle stones
where  walls weep dark tears.
Henri has not come,
though I will him so.

Pride may kill this love,
its heartbeats falter
as a small bird
quivers when held
even between gentle hands.
Henri has not come.

I shelter in this place of shadows,
keen softly at the sharp stings
of  loss and sorrow.
Henri has not come,
and Fate forbids I go.

Fate stains the dark stones
of a thousand years, yet
they stand, precarious.
A soft breath and they may
fall away.

I cannot tell Henri’s heart
from the fallen stones.
My heart lies shattered, a thousand
and a thousand shards
glint in the wet gleam
of bitter tears
and still—
Henri comes not.

Carol A Stephen
as Eleanor of Aquitaine, during her time kept prisoner by her husband, Henry II

Eleanor of Aquitaine, queen consort of Henry I...

Eleanor of Aquitaine, queen consort of Henry II of England. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No-Comfort Zone Week Ending April 8

This week, I have made some progress on personal issues and I’m feeling a bit more optimistic about things in general. I am also realizing that I have been putting a lot of pressure on myself with unrealistic expectations. Not a new thing, but new for me to accepting that I don’t really need to do many of these things that I am being self-critical about. It is a liberating feeling. I still have a lot of work to do on attitude, but it’s starting to go the right way. Success in the No-Comfort Zone is not always what we started out for it to be!

This week I am preparing for the Quebec workshop, which takes place next weekend. Nervous about it, yes. The instructor is a very well-known Canadian poet, and editor of one of the major national journals.  But so were the first two, Barry Dempster and Roo Borson. I learned a lot from both.

Looking forward to the opportunity, then, to work with John Barton.

Carol A. Stephen

 

Day 8 NaPoWriMo Easter Sunday Walk

 

 

 

Carol A. Stephen

 

Today’s prompt is to walk with a notebook, observing, and then to sit and write.  Here in Eastern Ontario, the day is bright and blue with the promise of 14 degrees Celsius later on. Spring doesn’t arrive as early as it does in Toronto, which is one of the things I truly miss about my hometown. Nevertheless, it does arrive, unexpectedly showing itself in corners of gardens. My poem tries to capture this a little. Just as a note, Carleton Place, not far from Ottawa, is on the banks of the Mississippi River. (No, not the mighty one, but a pretty river just the same!)

Carleton Place on the Mississippi

 

 

 

Walking Along the Other Mississippi 

Easter Sunday, Lanark County, Eastern Ontario

Sun rises early now, the morning bright
blue outlining maple branches,
bare but promising buds.
Birds gather round feeders, songs
sounding Easter morning hymns of praise

for spring arriving, chasing away the last
of winter’s white. Lilac offers green hints
of purple blossoms, coming attractions.

Along Lake Avenue, a surprise of daffodils,
full-bloomed where micro-climate pockets
already welcome warming air.
Forsythia flaunts yellow, green leaves of tulips tease,
early scarlet flutes not ready for their close-ups.

On the back steps, squirrels have found the nuts
their own Easter hunt successful. Lanark County
celebrates spring’s arrival, nature’s own flourish
grander than any man-made Easter parade.

Carol A. Stephen
April 8, 2012

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day 7 NaPoWriMo Layers of Saturation

Carol A. Stephen

Today the prompt is to write a poem where everything is a particular colour or that colour predominates. Hope this is not too prosaic…

 

Layers of Saturation

The days close windows, shutter
sky in purple cloud, sending the sun
somewhere south and west.

When moon rises, she’s wrapped herself
in the purple midnight we call black,
yet purple even so.

Light from white stars filters
the line of purple through layers of night,
layers of amaranth, their haloes shimmer violet

rain descending, sending a mist
of red-blue tears. At sunrise,
beneath the trees, purple crocuses.

Closeup of crocuses in early afternoon light.

crocuses (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Carol A. Stephen
April 7, 2012