Sometimes aloud in perfect solitude, with me, my thoughts

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Like one drawn to cigarettes;
sauntering down lane,
am I to kiss, deepening
eyes -so full– of rain.
This winter of mud,
who knows what the hours will bring?
I’ve slept amongst buds.

 

Lilacs false know not hue, love
I will say it loud;
sideways in pall of black smoke
in this lonely crowd.
Of all the seasons,
Spring pushes forth at first chance;
look for life’s meaning.

 

 

 

Photo credits: “Priceless,” limited edition artwork by Richard Blunt, Pinterest.

Grace hosts at dVerse and invites us to try a new poetic form
known as
“Seguidilla.” Come join us! πŸ’

Posted for Poetry Form, “Seguidilla” @ dVerse Poets Pub

30 Replies to “Sometimes aloud in perfect solitude, with me, my thoughts”

  1. This winter of mud… what a devastating statement… but from mud grows the finest plants I think… spring is wonderful when it comes.

  2. I love that winter of mud, changing to lilacs and hint of spring, in the second septet.

    The change of thought or volta is wonderful, specially : of all the seasons. Wonderful crisp thoughts in a lovely form!

    1. Thank you so much, Grace πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it πŸ’„β€οΈ

      (and thank you for the glorious prompt) 🌹

  3. I love how you’ve kept your own distinctive poetic voice alive in the form, Sanaa: it really works well.

    ‘This winter of mud,
    who knows, what the hours will bring?
    I’ve slept amongst buds.’

    Just lovely, lovely!

  4. We’re headed into Mud Season up here at present. Between all these back road mudbogs, the nascent but rapidly expanding pot holes (some resembling roadlakes) and waiting for Covid Needle #2, there is STRONG disincentivization to venture anywhere. I’m just going to stay home and read some outstanding poetry…like YOURS, Sanaa!

  5. “This winter of mud” really stuck with me too. I can take winters of cold, white snow and dark. Winter with just dark and mud would be soul crushing.

    The last three lines are inspired Saana. Spring really do push forth at first chance, weather or not it’s a fools spring or not.

  6. Sanaa, I really, really loved the contrast between cigarettes and buds, and the word buds also conjured the word ‘butts’ to my mind, as in – cigarette butts.

    Great, great writing.

    Yours,
    David

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