I am sometimes bumfuzzled with poetic challenges at various sites, and I analyzed one of my own story poems to see how it would be described as a challenge. To my amazement, it's a story poem of six tercets with AAB rhyming pattern, the B's of the six tercets to rhyme! Funny thing is, I wrote the poem as it came to me, and analyzed it afterward! I think my poetic style (and I use the term loosely) must be derived from 80 years of reading all sorts of poetry. I'm quite chuffed with myself, so I'll share it here in FRIDAY'S WRITINGS at Poets & Storytellers! Submitted on February 25, 2022
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ARABELLA ARACHNID
Consider the talented spider
Who, with only genetics to guide her
Creates delicate lace filigree
Her industrious endeavor
Is devilishly clever
For she has a plan, you see.
When a curious fly
Comes cruising by
He’s headed for infinity
Before time can ebb
He’s caught in her web
There’s no hope for the fly to flee
For all of her spinning
She’s accustomed to winning
She's an arachnid of celebrity
And the ill-fated fly
Who came wandering by
Is on his way to eternity.
Chuffed it is! As it should be! A style uniquely yours ~~~
ReplyDeleteShe does spin a beautiful, deadly pattern. I love the rhyme and rhythm of this poem.
ReplyDeleteI never weep--never!--when a fly head to infinity!
ReplyDeleteOh, this is so cute! I love the name Arabella Arachnid. Some webs are so amazing.
ReplyDeleteIt's brilliant. You consistently underrate your poetic skills, dear Bev! Just because it seems to come naturally doesn't mean it's inferior. Just because it follows traditional patterns of rhyme and metre doesn't mean it's outmoded. Just because it's often both nifty and humorous doesn't mean it's bad.
ReplyDeleteGood one! Nice rhythm and rhyme.
ReplyDeleteBumfuzzled...is this one of your creations or an Americanism?...totally brilliant...am going to use this one. Got any more ? Love your humour !
ReplyDeleteNice one. Your apt threading of wit story and rhyme works everytime.
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by my blog
Much love...
I've been amazed at the spiders' creations myself.
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"Swat!!!" The fly is smushed. Poor baby, Moma's joy was only out hunting a place for planting maggot seeds.
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Love the name, and your very entertaining poem, Bev!
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