[stylist] Anoterh tumbling tercet but with an envoi
KajunCutie926 at aol.com
KajunCutie926 at aol.com
Tue May 29 22:07:47 UTC 2012
Jackie, yes of course. Be my guest! it's a great little form or, as I
call it, an extension of the already established tercet. Your words humble
me and please do try one. I will warn you though that they can become
addicting little demons.
Thank you so much for your kind words. You have humbled me today and
truly honored me.
Myrna
In a message dated 5/29/2012 4:38:56 P.M. Central Daylight Time,
jackieleepoet at cox.net writes:
Myrna,
This is fantastic! I like your envoi as your title. It tells me where I am
going, where I have been, the readiness, and to the real beginning again.
It builds in intensity through your words and the structure, and the need
to
write becomes a passion.
This is something I will try. Would you mind if I take your previous
explanation and this example of it to my class which will begin again in
the
fall? Of course, you will be credited with the form as well as your
writing.
Because many of our poets go for publication, it might possibly add to the
number of published poems using that form.
I get the "Poem a Day series. Quite honestly, your poetry far surpasses
much
of what I read on a daily basis.
I am thrilled with the fact that you share it all with us and thus that
wonderfully passionate part of yourself for writing.
Jackie
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of KajunCutie926 at aol.com
Sent: Thursday, May 24, 2012 1:13 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Anoterh tumbling tercet but with an envoi
Here is the example I said I'd send. It is in email but I have also
attached it. If you have trouble opening it do let me know. This tumbling
tercet
includes the envoi although it is a very short envoi. I do hope everyone
enjoys the read.
Myrna
After The Ink Spills
In the stillness of an ordinary moment
Is heard a whisper, an almost breathless
Miracle of words tumbling into
An opened jar of ink, and I listen
With a heart in need of their wisdom,
Their joy, their journeys, and their
Love, and my hand, trembling with
Creativity's anticipation, reaches for
The pen being held in the arms
Of an empty palette, safely comforted
Until the time is right, until the
Passion, the sweet voice of words, of painted
Metaphor, is perfect. I wait, barely
Breathing, unsure of where I will be taken,
But willing to acquiesce, to trust,
To believe in creativity's path, to
Believe in the art of writing, always
Knowing that all will be revealed to me
After the ink spills.
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