I’ve found an amazing group of poets at Carrot Ranch.com: double ennead challenges 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 the challenge HERE
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 everyone to think about how Autumn interacts with our six senses (taste, touch, sight, smell, hearing, and intuition) as we composed our double ennead poems.
Our senses help us take in information from the world. Our senses are a powerful tool that helps us convey messages to our readers by providing a connection to the imagery inside their heads.
Here are the poems from the September 20, 2021 challenge on Carrot Ranch.com:
"September Time" The Indian summer swansong brings wasps out, their buzzing, sharp, stripey warning. Time to hide! Rain brings aural release. Sweet, steaming cocoa. Music no longer rings through screens from Albert Hall, for cakes and sequins mist up TV, now: icy eyes stalk the tent, before glitter-belles and joyful Johannes feast on fashion. Time to flaunt my colours: deep green, bold burgundy, and thick, rich-purple socks. Time for Autumn's shine. © E.A. Colquitt
Breathe in Autumn’s harvest. nature’s smudging cleanse! Every step a cidery press of scents green melting in fall fire summer ferns kneel brown. See Autumn’s praise-songs. Gatherings of voices! Choired trees exalting in crackling colored tongues tart air an apple bite wing strokes flute bell skies. Hear Autumn’s palette. Offerings of colors! Quicksilvered moonshadow songs of coyotes red leaves’ raining patter blue forgotten dreams. D. Avery from Comments
"Golden Dame" Elegant sylph up high Grand receptacle; Espouser of light, ardor, and purity Salacious savvy star Golden deity Source of serene delight Gracing earth tonight With your internal glow you complement us Sweet direct convergence September full moon Clouds that hide you from me Find me lusterless Yet O-gape I be, your face I know by heart And so I float to you Raze the clouds away © selmamartin.com
"The Shape of the Season-A Taste of a Canadian Fall Election" A light sprinkling of rain, a hum of voices, a slow-moving line of Covid citizens, a masked electorate democracies feat. The Gymnasium is cool, fresh autumn air flows, a penetrating sound shakes the old hall. Rusty bolts on the move as hammers pound in. From eleven to one scrutineering fun, carrot, banana, orange, nary a gun under grey cloudy skies we shall overcome. © Bill Engleson in Comments
"Esprit Egression (*plus…)" In the autumn of life The inkwell was still In use by the paper thin skinned hand that now Shook just a little more While filling the page Letters scritchity scratched Black India Ink Ran, danced, echoed memories real and Imagined from the pen Capturing moments Until the cold winter Arrived leaving just The bare bones to drape on the author’s desk chair Would fame come now that death Had taken all else? © JulesPaige
"In the Shadow of Pumpkin Lattes & Fall Sightseeing" pumpkin spiced hot coffee lures locals to drive thru the steel girders of the Keweenaw lift bridge defying construction zones and stalled traffic cars emit fuel fumes waiting to hum across the water that divides the peninsula where colorful autumn leaves beckon fall tourists the taste of pumpkin spice erases the thought that it wasn’t worth the costs to cross the bridge denial or excess we thrill to burn gas © Charli Mills in Comments
"The Turning" let me know the turning morning mists open fire engine reds blow out in hot bursts - siren! speak my name softly now imprint on my skull my eyes wide in pleasure I dream of genies undress my body, overlay our bones' breath one button at a time acorns plink, plonk, drop bottled rain laps the lake Autumn comes tonight in the hunter's full moon we gather, howling lay me down in her bed I pray for solace *** Scarlet in midnight's bliss dances in silver, as a cardinal calls in the willow bush, her swirling skirts a flame, a shell by dawn's light. Her lips offer a kiss as the moon quivers, siren red bells jangle bruising Autumn's shush, she, never to be tamed, fanciful in flight. She swims freely, a fish tied by the moon's sash, his song fires her heartbeat, quickens in ambush, her lover awaits, game, she is Autumn's lass. *** The woodsman with his axe regards the old tree, blushing apples, once blossoms held in Spring's palm adorn the branches flush, its bark, waved ridges; time, in its slow rush, grooves the skin of her face, maiden she was, carrying herself with grace, a silver wedding band gifted by the moon binds each to the other long offered in June; wood smoke singes the air, she a flame's shadow, lingers, stinging his eyes; Autumn's apples sigh. © Pocket Poems, et al.
"Winter Calls" We flow into autumn from summer’s embrace when twilight hastens and the sun rides low ripening abundance a gilded farewell Quilted paths of crimson through colors we roam mugs of cloved cider and a cinnamon moon our pumpkin’s grin candled memories loosen When scents of woodsmoke curl on crisp, crackling morns will you weave me a shawl from skeins of soft wool hold me warm by the fire for my winter calls © D. Wallace Peach
"Lamentations" mother says, “let it be” autumn is here now yet, the grass and trees are still green and it’s warm we love the cool breezes acorns on the ground brown leaves are floating down not yet in color north Texas is very different from NY city where one sweater or two were needed for warmth no wood burning this year drought is upon us the earth is thirsty, pumpkin spice will not do a freeze is not likely Mother, color please © Ruth Klein’s Scribbles
"Three Wishes" If you had three wishes, How would you use them – Rewind that video, erase the harsh words? The screech of Raven birds, That echo; echo. Perhaps you’ll imagine, Ingressing the dream – A luxurious penthouse in the city? Clear vista so pretty, No dust specks dancing. Maybe you’ll ease world peace, Spritzing a great gift – On all those with power to use it for right? Each wish; has destined might; Take care how you choose. © Laura McHarrie
Many thanks to everyone who took part in this challenge, and to the Saloon at Carrot Ranch for the opportunity to spread our poetry writing wings. What a thrill to read all the incredible poetic descriptions of Autumn. The next time you feel stuck in a writer’s rut, try penning some descriptions of your favorite seasons. I predict you’ll be unstuck in no time.
I’ll be back at the Saloon, on Monday, October 18th for another word filled double ennead challenge!