Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 418 KIND and Vivid.

Ronovanwrite’s

This week for Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge I have written a symbolic Haiku with 5/7/5 syllables , and a straightforward 3/5/3. I wrote about the values my parents taught me.

KIND and Vivid.

© willowdot21 2019

Be gentle be fair
Be generous and giving
Your true colours shine.

*******

Please be kind
Your aura vivid
Soul aglow.

#TankaTuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 280, 7/12/22, #SpecificForm: Lanturne or Lanterne

WELCOME TO #TANKATUESDAY

Last month, Colleen asked Lisa, the VerseSmith to select a syllabic form for us to learn more about. Her choice was the lanturne or lanterne. Colleen says:”The lanturne is a kind of shape poetry. Many say it originated from Japan, but I found no evidence to support that claim.”

The lanturne is a five-line verse shaped like a Japanese lantern with a syllabic pattern of one, two, three, four, one. (1, 2, 3, 4, 1).

This week, write a lanturne poem or a series of lanturne poems. Oh(A series gets you extra credit, by the way). The only thing I ask is that you do not use “ing” ending words to satisfy the word count.

FAST FACTS

Wikipedia.org shares:

“A lanterne is a cinquain form of poetry, in which the first line has one syllable and each subsequent line increases in length by one syllable, except for the final line that concludes the poem with one syllable (1-2-3-4-1). Its name derives from the lantern shape that appears when the poem is aligned to the center of the page.

Each line of the lanterne is able to stand on its own, and while the poem may or may not be given a title, the title of a lanterne sometimes functions as an integral part of the poem, working as a ‘sixth’ line.”

Wikipedia.org.

You can find more facts a Colleen’s page as well as comments and entries here at Colleen’s Tuesday Tanka Challenge.

I have chosen Death as the theme and I have written a series of lanturne poems.

Death
Comes to
All. None can
Excede their time
No.

Death
Has no
Comforter
He stands alone
Spurned

Death
His sythe
In hand waits
Black cloak wrapped tight
Cold

Death
Turns your
Hour glass
Your time is up
Gone

Death
Patient
In no rush
Time on his side
Wins

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