I Started This Poem, You Finish It.

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   qwarkposted 13 years ago

   DAWN:
   
   In hidden niches here and there,
   in caves and stumps of trees,
   all life from everywhere
   sneak out to test the breeze.
   
   Sleepy little breezes stir
   and wake up full of glee,
   to sing and dance
   and wing there way
   down canyons to a ripply sea.
   
   an eagle soars
   away on high
   an exquisite display of flight,
   a sillouette against the sky
   of a dissipating night.
   
   In his hand, god held a rainbow
   used a ray of the sun as a brush.
   Every color used he
   till the clouds did glow
   and the world gives praise
   with a reverant hush.
   
   --------------------------? Go for it~
   Ok "believers" I just added a little to get your interest.
   Can ya finish this poem and make it live up to the title?

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      selrachposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      The end

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         qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         hahaha   not fair......:-)

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      dutchman1951posted 13 years agoin reply to this

      enough said...good as it stands me thinks
      
      First lines maybe...
      
      with chards of light, through splinterd limb
      above carefull caves-  between watch towered trees
      where small specs of life, sneak everywhere
      sensing forth to touch the tender breeze
      
      Come Tender little eyes of light......
      
      just a suggestion, nothing more

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         qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         ...good try Dutch now finish it...ok?
         Add a few lines to make the title: "Morning" live  :-)

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      dutchman1951posted 13 years agoin reply to this

      to soar defiant-  against nights obismal blue
      so high,  above oceans of mountainous green
      as if to guide the mothers tenderous hand
      a pointed touch-?  or a gift to man?
      
      and, words we will use to re-call the scene
      red with anger, or marmalade cream
      pastoral-sweet, or tender yawning
      is one word enough?  shal we call it Morning?
      
      I tried.....

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         qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         Dutch...good try..how did that feel when ya read the whole thing with your ending?

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            dutchman1951posted 13 years agoin reply to this

            nice, it was fun???? I love to write poetry, have some on my Hub page, and plan to add more.

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               qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

               Dutch: I'll check one of yer "hub" poems..
               Dutch...I've never tried poetry in prose. You hang in there.
               If that's the kind you like to write...do it.
               I work hard to make my poetry rhyme. I love the rythm and cadence and trying to make an idea come to life in rhyme...:-)

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                  dutchman1951posted 13 years agoin reply to this

                  I have rhyme poems, but i love free style. Tell a story
                  its fun, both ways, and I actualy use both.
                  
                  you made me think on this one, loved it. 

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   ralwusposted 13 years ago

   it shyt on me goodnight

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   zampanoposted 13 years ago

   it dives suddenly its eyes giving the fix
   of a prey to be taken
   from nature's stock to death shaken
   from its eager beak to young gullets not forsaken

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      qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      Zampano:
      Feedin' the kids in the nest at the break of dawn...lol good try! :-)

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         zampanoposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         That's very natural. Isn't it ?
         Natural poetry. hehehe

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            qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

            Yep...couldn't be more so...what's more natural than feedin' the kids...:-)

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      dutchman1951posted 13 years agoin reply to this

      these words are kind of mystic, very well done

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   qwarkposted 13 years ago

   Hey, I think this is s pretty good start on a poem.
   Only got 2 takers so far!
   No poets in the forum tonite...?
   I'll try to write a little more to get the "believers involved...:-)
   There I added a few lines for "believers."

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   qwarkposted 13 years ago

   Go for it guys...and girls...:-)

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      dutchman1951posted 13 years agoin reply to this

      hmmm, have to think on this one

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   pylos26posted 13 years ago

   quark wrote: Yep...couldn't be more so...what's more natural than feedin' the kids...:-)
   
   
   uhh...making the kids?

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      qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      Pylos:
      I'm far past wanting to "make kids." ... there's no joy in even thinking about it anymore...lol   :-)

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   schoolgirlforrealposted 13 years ago

   The colors of the world so lush
   Gave God the idea to rest on seventh day
   He laid down, put away His brush..
   And looked smiling at what He made

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      qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

      I knew I could get a "believer" to try. ty schoolgirl...:-)
      
      Not too many poets in the forum.
      I thought there'd be more action if i'd start a peom and see what other writers would come up with.
      I'm disappointed.

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         schoolgirlforrealposted 13 years agoin reply to this

         thx qwark !
         I found this task a bit daunting (that's not how I really talk lol!)
         cause your beginning start I thought was very very good

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            qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

            Ty School....try more of it..it's difficult but when ya finish ya look back and admire  yer good work...:-)

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               raceegirl8posted 13 years agoin reply to this

               A rainbow in the clouds
               Symbolizing a covenant to Noah from this day on
               No floods of rain in shrouds
               will destroy the earth
               A new day has dawn
               
               Blessings of another day to come
               For many entered not into His rest because of unbelief
               God calls a people who cease from their own works as He has done
               A people who will not rebell, hardened their hearts and suffer grief
               A people who surrender to the will of God and have no plans of their own
               
               
               Then a touch of the painter's brush
               Grand colors of silver and gold 
               Coming forth from obedience that only a refining fire can touch
               A people of God unfold
               Entering into the Holy of Holies through faith
               
               Why? Because this was God's work preordanied beforehand
               So elaborate that not one can diminish
               The eighth day, a day of rest so grand
               Brings forth a reality which from the beginning was already finished

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                  qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

                  Racegirl; gotta give ya credit! Ya spent some time and even tho very religious ya came up with poetry ya can call yer own. Nice feeling isnt it? to look back at what your mind came up with when challenged.
                  Good for you! thanks for responding!

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                     raceegirl8posted 13 years agoin reply to this

                     lol   I love reading and composition, lit. etc., but have never written a poem... I always admired those who could... but thanks for the encouragement... I enjoyed yours very much

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                        qwarkposted 13 years agoin reply to this

                        TY Racegirl!
                        Stick with it! :-)

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   couturepopcafeposted 13 years ago

   Hey, qwark - I had to start one verse up from your last...
   
   (..."an eagle soars away on high
   an exquisite display of flight
   a silhouette against the sky
   of a dissapating night.")
   
   he was really a Whydah of uncommon speed
   dressed in a surcoat of steel
   who, flying in sinuous circles, did float
   with a surefire, surefooted zeal.
   
   now, a supplicate sylph on that starbright eve
   found herself in a stormy petrel
   at the slype of the moon the star chamber queen
   put her silvery wings in a spell
   
   young Whydah had spotted his sylvan amour
   as he played in the fragrant air
   a rainbow of light reflected his wings
   in the silk of her corn-colored hair
   
   as the morning star pushed over the ridge
   his spirit quickened and stirred
   the stridulous queen did thus advance
   but her wrath was never heard
   
   in the simple grace of the autumn dawn
   with evening sphere removed
   the swiveted queen had fled the fray
   where once her spirit proved
   
   a mighty force against all odds
   she thought to do her will
   but love had proved her wrong this time
   for God is Sovereign still.

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