My poem: No taste for gamy love: Gen

Title: No taste for gamy love
Poetic form: bref double [using Turco's rhyme scheme]
No. of lines: 14
Length: 105
Rating: Gen
For: 2022 GYWO Yahtzee roll #3 prompt: gamy
Inspired by: the painting Nymphs and Satyr by William-Adolphe Bouguereau

the bathing nymphs beside the water’s edge
they frolic, heeding not the satyr’s stare
they play, enjoy the day, the warm, spring day
without a care for who or what might see

then overcome by lust the satyr stirs
from hiding place among the water’s sedge
he springs, provoking startled shrieks; with fright,
some nymphs take flight at lunging devilry

of sterner will, some do not flee the fray
but rather seize the satyr by his horns,
and having not a taste for gamy love,
they pitch him in the pond defiantly

‘do douse your wick, you water’s dredge!’
they cry and hie, absconding gleefully

Poet's Corner: The Conway Stewart by Seamus Heaney

How about a poem about a pen? :)

The Conway Stewart by Seamus Heaney

"Medium," 14-carat nib,
Three gold bands in the clip-on screw-top,
In the mottled barrel a spatulate, thin

Pump-action lever
The shopkeeper
Demonstrated,

The nip uncapped,
Treating it to its first deep snorkel
In a newly opened ink-bottle,

Guttery, snottery,
Letting it rest then at an angle
To ingest,

Giving us time
To look together and away
From our parting, due that evening,

To my longhand
"Dear"
To them, next day.

My poem: Cinquain: Gen

Title: Cinquain
Poetic form: cinquain
Length: 12
Inspired by: this photo

star stairs
over water
arched firmament motions
unending horizon beckons
‘you, come.’

Poet's Corner: Pantoum by Sandra Lim

Pantoum by Sandra Lim

Taking on an aspect of the Orient,
Skies full of hatchets and oranges
Love, uninvited, hangs in the blood:
But what is a kingdom to a dying emperor?

Skies full of hatchets and oranges
Keep the birds singing, sorrows fresh—
But what is a kingdom to a dying emperor,
As the nights grow steadily into mountains.

Keep the birds singing, sorrows fresh—
The princess braids these into a necklace
As the nights grow steadily into mountains,
Why, even regrets recede unexpectedly.
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