rendezvous merriment echoes purity of their love savouring stolen moments ‘til they meet again
Every Wednesday, they met behind the gate like clandestine lovers. She would bring a picnic basket and he, a bottle of Merlot. She would often giggle like a young teen despite her sixty years in age. It was the only time she felt alive and filled with a sense of hope until her return home to care for her senile brother.
wind blows in her hair blossoms fall softly on her cheek from the plum tree
The church was filled with people of her past, close friends, colleagues and family. It felt so bizarre being in this house of worship. This was where she received five sacraments…only one left to go. The voice of the priest interrupted her thoughts now and then.
At the reception a few old high school friends offered their condolences. Her first high school sweetheart looked like a caricature of his teen-self decades ago adding jowls and lots of wrinkles on this stranger’s face. She was touched by his presence; his husband was introduced to me too. How life was different then, she thought. At least today society seems a little more open. Leaving a small, gossipy and unforgiving town helps too.
wishing life were fair
sweet innocent love affairs
dreams just may come true
That night she rummaged through her bedroom closet and took out her old childhood jewelry box. Sitting on the bed, she opened it and tears streamed her face as the music box played Lara’s Theme. Looking through the old memories, she held a pin her mother had given her when she had “become a woman”. It was their secret. She held it in her hands and still felt the warmth and love they shared together, that very special bond.
She smiled at a postcard her best friend in Grade 9 had sent her when she had met her first love that summer long ago. She cranked up the music box to feel she was back there in her childhood bedroom years ago. Her fingers felt the sharp edges of the Eiffel Tower. Her art teacher had given her this hoping she would take her gift in painting seriously…she never did get around to that after college…life happened.
At the bottom of the jewelry box was an old photo…her mind traveled back in time.
that first kiss,
sealing promises of dreams
This prompt, Chèvrefeuille has discovered Shadorma, a short poetry-form from Spain. I have had the privilege to have learned about this through Bastet in her weekly prompts at Mindlovemiserys Menagerie. I think I was drawn to it as well because Oliana is an island in Spain…so it was most fitting that I learn this poetry-form. The Shadorma is a poetic form consisting of a six-line stanza (or sestet). Each stanza has a syllable count of three syllables in the first line, five syllables in the second line, three syllables in the third and fourth lines, seven syllables in the fifth line, and five syllables in the sixth line (3/5/3/3/7/5) for a total of 26 syllables. A poem may consist of one stanza, or an unlimited number of stanzas (a series of shadorma). I sometimes like to add another form, Bastet introduced to us called Tilus which is 3 lines consisting of 10 sylables 6/3/1 with Shadorma forms to get a message across.
Chèvrefeuille sought the internet and ran into several examples of Shadorma, but this one by Richard Ankers is was one he found beautiful.
A shadorma is composed of six non-rhyming lines (sestina or sextet) and the syllable pattern is 3-5-3-3-7-5. It can have as many stanzas as you like, just as long as each stanza follows the syllable pattern mentioned above . You have a week to create you poems so be patient and let the photo inspire you! Or use your own photograph or art work!
Tilus – the poem is divided into two parts, the first consisting of two lines of 6 – 3 syllable count. The second is composed of a single one syllable word. The goal of the tilus which must not be more than 10 syllables is to contemplate the world of nature and how it can open the door of understanding life.