Hello everyone! I’ve found an amazing group of poets at Carrot Ranch.com where every third Monday of the month, I host the Double Ennead Challenge as a guest at the Saddle Up Saloon.
Follow the link to last month’s challenge.
What’s a double ennead? The Double Ennead comprises five lines with a syllable count of 6/5/11/6/5, (33 SYLLABLES per stanza) 3 STANZAS EACH = 99 SYLLABLES, NO MORE, NO LESS! Punctuation and rhyme schemes are optional and up to the poet.
This month, I asked the poets to use the theme of “spring” to compose their double ennead poem.
Here are the poems from the March 15th challenge:
"Spring Sprung" Sol sat solo, silent, in his melting cell, hatching his plan to flee his hibernation, bring Winter’s reign down and turn freeze into free. Summer would soon follow, (he would scorch the earth) but a more compelling task was now at hand, bring life to seeming dead seeds in fertile earth. ‘Arise the Thor of thaw.’ ‘Freedom’ did he cry. He rent the prison’s icy bars asunder, re-leaved trees in green and set the waters free. Doug Jacquier
“SPRING” Pristine snow spring melted, Now a bubbly froth, A Cerulean cascade down lush valleys, Pebbled symphonic waltz, A welcome deluge. Arid lands guzzled dry, Pure manna sullied, And guillotined by man’s endless avarice, A limping stagnant slush, Meeting Mother Sea Lost in wide blue chiasm, Defiled drops looked up, Warmed under the blue canopy of white clouds, They Rose to be purged clean, Elutriated. The IndieShe
"Spring" Turkeys scratch, hunger led still sharp, winter’s edge, where frost yet clings, in the face of coming spring Sun days, trees pulse with sap icy winds end that; swirling squalls, freezing cold reigning season, bold winter rages defiant, violent bursts Tireless sun adamant; winter, worn, relents; gritty wet, grainy snow muddy patches show at last warmth sustained; emerging shoots, ground gained Turkeys scratch, hunger led spring’s sprung; they’ll be fed D. Avery
A Different Spring Cleaning? (Airing Out the Attic) Sprang quickly at the dawn In winter’s last chill ~ They began stripping the old roofs’ shingles quick Prepping for more repairs; One; Fan removal Two; some minor chimney Pointing and three one Replacement skylight; bangs and squeaks assault ears I may sneak out to shop For some quiet time And while they’re up there Hubby’s got a plan To add insulation in the attic eaves Where once heat was leaking ~ Happy when all’s done! Jules
"SPRING 2021" For one winter moment, one brief twilight still, the snowline draping the sills of the far peaks, the chill, dark and troubling, I worry for spring. In the depth of its dark, the veil of its night, the slight season stirs, stretches the coming blush, the grace of its entry, a repose of rain. Each season has its way, Its own gift to give. Spring proffers change, rebirth, earth sprouting anew, a courtesan of hues, a bountiful bliss. Bill Engleson
"Laughter Can Move Mountains" I put out the bird seed But the Squirrels come I am mad as I refill the feeder again I see one lovely finch It makes me happy The squirrels soon comeback Breaking the feeder I must purchase a new squirrel proof feeder I fill it with more seed Darn tree rats eat it My feeder stopped nothing One bird have I seen Returning to the store I buy something else I sit with my new gun And wait for squirrels Mr. Oh's Sideways View (from comments)
"The Swamp" (Double Ennead for Donna) Springtime is now in bloom. Down in Jacksonville, Buttonwood, black gum, cypress on full display, with moss hanging, heirloom. (Land of no good will.) Sunlight settles, diffused. Hear claws scrape on bark; be they lizards on the prowl, or a swamp owl, no missed step is excused. (Don’t be caught past dark.) This ain’t no tourist trap; best be passing through. Gator rules roost, prehistoric land seduced. Is this place on a map? (Being bait just won’t do.) Michael Todd (2021) from comments
"Spring Forward" honeybees busily mingle with flowers a menagerie of pink, white and blue blooms reminders of springtime and warm sunny days the wintry days of life a mindset chiller yet seeing those first flowers raise our spirits as we seek renewal our thoughts flow humbly golden nectar sweetened by nature herself as spring flowers pop out of their winter homes their joy reaches our soul sunshine fills our hearts Eugis Milieu
"A Seasoned Fighter" The leaves changing colors; An incoming chill. Nothing cold as the ice flowing through his veins. Opening days of camp, Peak at the right time. While snow falls to the ground, The gym’s windows steam. The heavy bag’s softened with strikes like pistons. He could do this all day, Strength in stamina. The freeze begins to thaw; Springtime brings showtime. Prizefighter pollinate the cage with violence. His cardio proved king; Off for summer fun! MMA Storytime
"The Spring Music" The earth gently opens to show frail patterns of leaves, green and purple, basking in their poise before pulling back to guard their sibling blooms. Quails chatter in a calm extinct birds’ language, showing off their tanned wings to partners, hushing at the delicious spray of dew on their beaks. Huge mountains and plains still while oceans whisper, as skies pour down, drenching tiny and huge lives soaking the brownish sand in colors of joy Call2Read
"The Stirring" It’s hard to be patient While looking for growth, After the dark, dismal, bareness in Winter, When nothing germinates And all seems shutdown. As the sky lightens up The warmth of the sun, Encourages the very, first buds of Spring, Green shoots stretch and poke through And all seems hopeful. Buds bloom into flowers With tender respect, Producing plentiful fruits throughout Summer, Then, crops for the harvest And … all seems at rest. Laura McHarrie
"Spring On the Farm" Notice the outside temp Turn off the furnace Lift up the windows, let the fresh air blow through Hear the geese honking by Snowbanks are all but gone The fat sheep are lambing Kid goats bound about Spindly leg foals stick close to their mama’s side Pollywogs will soon be Swimming in the pond The robins have returned Goldfinches yellow The rooster struts around his harem of hens The calves bleat loneliness Tis spring on the farm Sue Spitulnik from comments
"Spring has Sprung" looking out the window I gazed in wonder a carpet of blue stretching out beyond view a blanket under trees unfathomable it took my breath away this blue tapestry trees standing tall, arms outstretched giving them shade a fantasy playground on the other side I could feel the magic beauty, spellbinding down on their level, were they hiding in there? the fairies must be there just not visible Ruth Scribbles
Many thanks to everyone who took part in this challenge. Your creativity is inspiring! Writing poetry makes us better writers! As Rebecca Hussey says in the BookRiot article entitled, An English Professor’s Perspective on Hating Poetry:
“…Poetry is about experiencing language more than understanding it, it’s about playing with language rather than mastering it, it’s about creativity and expression rather than knowledge…”Bookriot.com: Hating Poetry
I’ll be back at the Saloon, on Monday, April 19th! Join in and get your syllabic poetry on!