Monday August 1st, 2016

The exercise:

Write about something that is: looming.

Ran a few errands today before going out to dinner with Kat. We had a lovely time and the boys enjoyed their evening with Grandma and Papa.

Now I am tired and ready for sleep.

Mine:

It's been a long time coming
And now it's finally near;
Just one more sleep and then
I can set aside this fear.

Tomorrow I will wake
To greet this fateful day;
I will speak all these words
I've been practicing to say.

In less than a day it will
All be said and all be done.
And then it will be time
For the next fear to come...

4 Comments:

morganna said...

Lurking
Overhead
Obvious only when sun-blind
Most patiently awaiting
Its chance to
Nibble your
Giblets.

Greg said...

@Morgana: I'm sorry to hear you were ill, but much happier to hear that you're better again :) I hope all the illness is well behind you now.
I think I may have said before that I admire your skill with acrostics, and this is no exception! You get an absolutely beautiful rhythm in your poetry even with these constraints, and the word-choice is great -- although now I'm going to check my giblets are well covered up next time I go outside....

@Marc:The only thing missing from your editorial today is what it is that's looming :) Still, I like your poem and find myself thoroughly intrigued as to the words to say will be and what the event is. I also like the last stanza especially, with the implication that this is something we can never escape from.

Looming
The stairs creaked slightly as he ascended but he was sure that drum beat from below would hide the noise from anyone. While the cellar was obviously where the celebrants were he hadn't survived an entire War without taking necessary -- and sometimes paranoid -- precautions. Going down to a cellar without knowing how empty the rest of the house was would have left his spine tingling with the worry that a knife would be driven into it at any moment. He paused on the landing, checking out what was around him.
The landing was carpeted with the same oilcloth as the stairs; it was hardwearing and functional and cheap, what you used when you had little money and lots of pride. There were a couple of framed pictures on the wall, but it was too dark to make out details. Three doors framed the narrow rectangle of the landing. The one to his left was open and he could see the glimmer of a white porcelain sink through it. The other two were closed tightly, and he felt a band of tension tighten in his chest.
"Come on Jack," he said under his breath. "Two out of three isn't so bad."

Yolanda said...

It's midnight and I can't sleep. My body aches from all the lifting, carrying, pushing, mostly a young child afraid of monsters who had a bad day. I try to ignore the pain but my mind is busy, worried i'll forget something, or it will all be too much, too heavy, or won't fit into my SUV when I reach the other end. My mind drifts beyond that to the cold quiet that's to come. Short winter days, no cousins, no daily playdates, no grandmother to help me out. Only the sounds of kookaburas, cocatoos, and magpies. Constant bird noise traveling through thin glass.

Nothing overly creative from me tonight, but your theme has been on my mind all day. 6 days left of our Canada trip and then we fly back to our very quiet life in Melbourne with way too much stuff and a toddler. Not sure how I'm going to get 5 checked bags 3 carryons and a toddler to Vancouver via Greyhound, then to the airport via taxi, then into my car at the other end. But i'll be glad when it's over and I can sit back, turn on the heater, and listen to the birds. 😊

Oh and one more thing... your nectatines were so good it was a shame we couldn't get back to Penticton to get more.

Marc said...

Morganna - another pitch perfect acrostic from you. They are clearly your specialty, though of course I do enjoy it when you dabble in other techniques :)

Greg - this was written on the eve of my interview for the town job. The next fear to come was the wait to find out whether or not I got it. But I suppose that all became a little more clear once I'd finally shared what was going on :P

Ooh, so pleased you continued this. No idea where you're going with it, but oh so eager to find out!

Yolanda - that's a wonderfully poignant slice of your life you've shared with us, and I thank you for it! That final line is delightfully poetic.

I hope your trip went smoothly, that everything (and everyone!) made it one piece, and that you've settled back into your Aussie life.

And I'm very pleased to hear the nectarines were enjoyed so much :)