Tag Archives: Decima

Ronovan writes Decima prompt #93 #Memories

Whilst stationed in the Hindu Kush

something that I can still recall

was every day before nightfall

over the mountains would come a hush

just the song of a single thrush

his liquid song like crystal clear

and all would pause the notes to hear

while every day his song we heard

we never saw the tuneful bird

something we all found rather queer

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Ronovan writes #Decima prompt #90 The beauty of nature

Out in the woods I saw today

guaranteed to lighten my heart

was a sight of natural art

for on the grass I spied a jay

although quite common so they say

as on the grass he alighted

true to say I was delighted

silver blue wingtips shining bright

and chessboard flanks of black and white

with fawn and purple neck and breast

his long beak probing on it’s quest

truly a magnificent sight

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Ronovan writes #Decima prompt challenge #81

I once knew a sailor called Jack

loved it when the ship’s sails unfurled

and off he’d sail around the world

never knowing when he would be back

trusting the Captain to plot the track

constantly hoping for a breeze

to carry them across the seas

seeing foreign harbour lights

with all their promise of delights

to cater for the sailors needs.

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Ronovan writes #Decima poetry prompt #78

You must forgive my misty eyes,

memories often make me weep

and even though I try to sweep

them off, they make me realise

I should forget them, as if lies,

but this I find so hard to do

replacing them with something new,

a task for which I may need help,

leave gloomy thoughts upon the shelf

but then see the futility

for they keep flooding back to me

from deep within my inner self.

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Ronovan writes #Decima prompt #77 Night sky wonders

I looked up to the skies last night

and marvelled at the starry scene

but knowing much was left unseen

for if the moon is shining bright

small things are hidden from our sight

when in the moon’s reflected glow

they do seem reluctant to show

being so naturally shy

they easily avoid our eye

standing in wonder far below

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Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #227 Memories

In the sunset glow, both world and waters calm

we strolled along the seafront arm in arm

to right and left lounged rusting hulls

overhead drifted screaming gulls

and before us in uncanny silence

from the sands arose two twisted pylons

where one night a raging conflagration

had produced this scene of devastation

not just some ramshackle dwelling

but home to a story that merits telling

where once had been music and lights

Mods and Rockers clashed in vicious fights

a fun palace that gave so many families cheer

the splendour that used to be Southgate pier.

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Sammiscribbles weekend writing prompt #225

In many houses throughout this land

whether they may be poor or grand

is practised with each new day a ritual

that would now be seen as habitual

as while you are sitting quite alone

you could just as easily grab the phone

yet over breakfast in the morning

or often as the day is dawning

sometimes even while still in bed

the daily newspaper will be read

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Ronovan writes #Decima poetry challenge #69

Let your imagination leap

and picture me as I mumble

Sir I am ever so humble

seen as the archetypal creep

I am of course Uriah Heep

Of all the books that you have read

this man will stick within your head

but if we look inside his mind

we gain insight into mankind

no better trait needs to be said.

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Ronovan writes #Decima poetry challenge #67 “Cat and mouse.”

Fishermen’s cottages fringe the bay

as the cool evening mist comes down

the lamplighter begins his round

his measured footstep seems to say

the ending of another day

in the cramped parlours fires burn low

shadows form in their fading glow

whiskers twitching mice start to creep

wary of the ginger tom’s leap

knowing that fresh warm blood may flow

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Ronovan writes #Decima prompt #66 #Writers block.”

Two black pens are lined up neatly

as if they haven’t got the time

to start their day and fill the lines

with words that used to flow sweetly

inspiration lost completely

under the desk an empty seat

outside light rain has cleared the street

by now it is too late it seems

to cast aside this dismal scene

and see words appear on blank sheets

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