Poetry, stories, art, and music from the desk of Jezzie G, a writer without a label
Magical Secrets
Form: Wordsworth’s Sestet
Behind closed doors our secret dared to be,
A love beyond what words express,
All senses lost in one caress,
As dreams fulfilled those things until we kissed,
In that one touch our longings set us free,
A secret magic found where love exists
©JezzieGFarmer2011
Sweet Scented Lavender
Form: Wordsworth’s Sestet
The beauty of woman shone in her eyes,
And sweet scented lavender called my name,
As silent kisses began another game.
My mind so lost where her beauty is found,
As whispers trailed into those plaintive sighs,
Revealing her breath is the only sound
©JezzieGFarmer2012
Impossible
Form: Rhyme Royal
How can the impossible be expressed
With simple words of the mind’s thought echoes
And poet’s pen is yet to be impressed
For his mindless thoughts have nothing that glows
He won’t, he can’t, but should he try do it
He tried, he can, and at last he did it
©JezzieGFarmer2022
Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue
The Sabbat of Samhain (31 October) translates as summer’s end. Samhain is my favourite Sabbat and is considered one of the most holy days of the year. The veil between the physical and spiritual worlds is at its thinnest and our loved ones in spirit can return to be with us for a brief time. My own experience tells me that is true, and I have no doubts about that. Here goes…
Love at Samhain
Form: Sestet Couplets
In Autumnal rain the evening shimmers wet
Reflecting the light of love I’ll never forget
I’m lighting candles of black and white
Preparing a feast for you tonight
Watching the shadows cavort with the fey
The magic of you is on its way
Samhain night a time to celebrate
The love that was destined to be our fate
In eternal love you are my bride
In life, in death, I am by your side
In the stillness of time I feel you, dear
As once again our love is holding us near
And though I’ll miss you to the end of my days
Love brings you to me in so many ways
To hold my hand when times are dark
In howling winds where no dogs bark
For eternity was my love’s vow
I meant it then and I mean it now
©JezzieGFarmer2022
Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue
Cloud gazing has to be up there as one of the best ways of chillin’ out and thinking life out life. I have made many decisions laid out in a grassy field cloud gazing. Not just what do I cook for dinner decisions but major life-changing ones too. Here goes…
Drifters
Form: Rime Couée
I see pictures form in the sky
Fantasy dreams from way up high
Reality moves on
While watching clouds as they drift by
The breeze that makes each breath a sigh
When dreams and life are one
Grey clouds gather setting the mood
Thunder rumbles its words so crude
Lightning flashes its rage
Battle of wit misunderstood
Still pull out the waterproof hood
For rain may take the stage
In summer clouds a tiger’s smile
Passes slowly over the mile
His stripes of aircraft trails
I watch him go his way awhile
His journey done with graceful style
I swear he flicked his tail
I see pictures up in the clouds
In quietness or stormy shrouds
As they unknot the strings
Escaping from the city crowds
My dreamy head is in the clouds
But my heart truly sings
©JezzieGFarmer2022
Another Welsh form, the Cywydd Llosgyrnog is a syllabic-based form with internal rhymes. It is a 6-line stanza. Lines 1, 2, 4, and 5 are 8-syllables in length with 1 and 2 sharing an end rhyme and lines 4 and 5 sharing an end rhyme. Lines 3 and 6 have 7-syllable lines and end rhyme with each other, plus line 3 has an internal rhyme with lines 1 and 2 and similarly, line 6 has an internal rhyme with lines 4 and 5
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxa
xxxaxxb
xxxxxxxc
xxxxxxxc
xxxcxxb
Example
Bendith y Mamau by Jez Farmer
She is speaking, our Great Mother
Not blessings or love to smother
Her other messages unheard
Now comes the suffering of Man
The goddess doing what she can
Now humans must hear her word
The time has come, many will die
Still too many are asking why
The lady’s cry heard too late
Perhaps now the foolish will hear
As the selfish drawback in fear
Mother dear, why did you wait?
So, listen now if you so care
The goddess still has love to share
Don’t you dare deny her now
The time has come to sacrifice
The self, now we all pay her price
This high price is what we owe
Inspired by and written for Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – thank you GC and Sue
In the days when health and safety wasn’t even a thing, when as kids we did crazy-assed things, got battered and grazed, and oooh we are still here, building carts that had no brakes or real steering was the bees – here goes
Old Bits of Wood
Form: Envelope Sestet
Those old bits of wood hidden in the shed
We had plans to put them to better use
Drawn out on scrap paper stained with spilt juice
Summer holidays no lazing in bed
We hunted for hammers and nails instead
Those old bits of wood hidden in the shed
Packing some sandwiches out on a trip
No swimsuits, no towels inside our bags
Just a bundle of old torn greasy rags
As we headed out for the rubbish tip
While some mates dragged through a rusty old skip
Packing some sandwiches out on a trip
And in those adventures we found some wheels
One from an old pushchair, one from a trike
A broken pedal car what’s not to like
Not one wheel looked the same and all were steals
This ain’t about style but how freedom feels
And in those adventures we found some wheels
We put it together, found some old rope
Tied to the front wheels to act as a guide
And then it was ready for the first ride
So we set out to a nearby hill slope
Not standing a chance and even less hope
We put it together, found some old rope
Pulling at cut straws to see who would drive
Mike got on board and so off he went
It wasn’t long before the wheels were bent
He crashed and we called out ‘are you alive’
Those homemade carts just how did we survive
Pulling at cut straws to see who would drive
©JezzieGFarmer2022
Written to the Wednesday Challenge prompt from gc – many thanks for inspiring my writing once again
Well I know I am a kitchen gadget nut as I love cooking but outside of that who needs them – well thinking about it. It seems I do
Not So Old Style
Form: Burns’ Stanza
Theme: Home
Subject: Gadgets
I thought I was an old-style guy
With few mod cons helping me by
Perhaps I’m wrong or so thought I
The DAB that wakes me up
And the morning is still quite shy
As coffee drips in cup
That’s two before my brain awakes
And the mobile vibrates and shakes
Sipping my coffee as dawn breaks
Denmark is calling me
The Viking speaks they need more takes
That’s how it goes you see
I see a message on my pad
The prompt is in, the poet’s glad
He needs the break from working mad
Gadgets? I have so few
And the laptop casts out its shad
That’s five I’m shocked its’s true
And I’ve not started cooking yet
Pasta machine already set
Lasagne for tea a good bet
And the stand mixer waits
The air-fryer and smoothie set
How is there room for plates?
I think it is time to admit
I use more than the one gadget
For in my life they seem to fit
But one I really need
A teasmaid by my bed to sit
Oh yeah that’s one I need
©JezzieGFarmer2022
Learning the Day
Form: Balassi stanza
Theme: Ageing
Subject: Waking Up
Alarm chimes in dim light
Coffee brewing its might
And eyes look out at sunrise
The new day is in sight
Dreams begin, fingers write
Old soul another day wise
Author’s Note: And so ends another NaPoMo, the first one I have completed in a few years. Thank you for reading me
©JezzieGFarmer2022
This Poetry
Form: Sicilian Sestet
This writing needs the will of self-control,
Against the call of doing other things,
Ignoring pokes and strange Facebook polls,
The fun and games must wait while poet sings
The lines of pain that love in rhyme consoles
Until a thought breaks as the phone now rings.
Rekindled pen begins to ebb and flow,
A gentle touch of grammar held in verse,
And inky words trail where they want to go
Compelling thoughts to bribe and then coerce
The random lines into the form they know,
Ah! Is poetry fun or cunning curse?
©JGFarmer2014
A Scene on the Ice near a Town
Form: Rime Couee
Theme: Winter
Subject: A Scene on the Ice near a Town by Hendrick Avercamp
Workmen carrying their wares and tools
Children running home from their schools
The old man sees them go
As the skaters begin their dance
The cold winter sparking romance
In the visions of snow
©JGFarmer2021
Short Particular Measure consists of six line stanzas. Lines 1,2, 4, and 5 are composed in iambic trimeter and lines 3 and 6 are tetrameter.
The rhyme scheme is
aabaab
Example
The Way Ahead by Jez Farmer
Aggression within me
As eyes open to see
My destiny is waiting there
Let my spirit go free
Be man I’m meant to be
On the path home to who knows where
The Standard Habbie, or Burn’s Stanza, consists of 6 rhyming lines, lines 1, 2, 3 and 5 being iambic tetrameter or eight syllables, and lines 4 and 6 being iambic dimeter or four syllables.
The thyme scheme is aaabab, cccdcd, eeefef and so on.
Example
Address to a Haggis by Robert Burns
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin’-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace
As lang’s my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
‘Bethankit’ hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.
Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis
The Way Ahead
Form: Short Particular Measure
Aggression within me
As eyes open to see
My destiny is waiting there
Let my spirit go free
Be man I’m meant to be
On the path home to who knows where
©JGFarmer2021
It’s origins similar to that of the Italian Sestet, the Sicilian Sestet has no set meter, again formalized by the English courts to iambic tetrameter or pentameter. The rhyme scheme of the stanza is as follows:
abcbab defede and so on
Example
This Poetry by Jez Farmer
This writing needs the will of self-control,
Against the call of doing other things,
Ignoring pokes and strange Facebook polls,
The fun and games must wait while poet sings
The lines of pain that love in rhyme consoles
Until a thought breaks as the phone now rings.
Rekindled pen begins to ebb and flow,
A gentle touch of grammar held in verse,
And inky words trail where they want to go
Compelling thoughts to bribe and then coerce
The random lines into the form they know,
Ah! Is poetry fun or cunning curse?
The Rime Couée is a French form written over two rhymes. The first is a rhyming couplet of eight syllables then a shorter third line of six lines. The two couplets rhyme as so the shorter lines. This gives a form pattern of
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxb
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxxxa
xxxxxb
Example
Butterfly Dance by Jez Farmer
Slowly feasting on petaled rose
Nature’s gift as the summer glows
She flutters through the pink
It’s on her wings her beauty shows
Black, white and red that nature chose
In pink she’s dark as ink
A nectar morsel here and there
For her life is short and unfair
Pollen shared, she moves on
A brief career but does she dare
For one more day of grace to share
While flitting in the sun
Form: Rime Couee
Slowly feasting on petaled rose
Nature’s gift as the summer glows
She flutters through the pink
It’s on her wings her beauty shows
Black, white and red that nature chose
In pink she’s dark as ink
A nectar morsel here and there
For her life is short and unfair
Pollen shared, she moves on
A brief career but does she dare
For one more day of grace to share
While flitting in the sun
©JGFarmer2021
Form: Italian Sestet
On these dark days of wintertide
When fireside tales turn ghostly grim
And spirits start their howling groans
Even snowflakes shudder outside
Still our glasses full to the brim
As we sit among ancient stones
For now the time of deepest night
Of two old guys sharing their tales
While watching snowflakes turning black
Yet by morning they will be white
In darkness we balance the scales
Returning home by age old track
©JGFarmer2021
Form: Stave Stanza
She is the queen of starlit nights,
her beauty beyond mortal sights,
one kiss, she will possess my soul,
and dreams of desire she'll cajole,
in merry dance she leads the way,
my queen, and lady of the May.
When seasons call, goddess returns,
to sacred hearts where passions burns,
her song, harmonic cadences,
refreshed by slow Sapphic glances,
summer reborn on hallowed day,
my queen, and lady of the May.
She took my hand and stole my heart,
of this world I'm no longer part,
when blessed lady touched my lip,
the ways of old released their grip,
caught in illusions of freesia spray,
my queen, and lady of the May
©JGFarmer2009
Form: Ballade
To take a junk across the bay
to city lights and song,
reflect the rippled waters way,
to nights in old Hong Kong,
as east meets west in sin we play,
my girl just wears a thong.
We danced across the stars of night,
while craving something more,
engaging senses met delight,
our need no longer pure,
her eyes incite my passion's way,
she rocks me to my core.
Unearthly touches tempting here,
her pliant kiss inflames
elation found in carnal heat,
she held this tigress tame,
and took relish in juices sweet,
in bliss I did the same.
©JGFarmer2008
Form: Collins Sestet
The artist in confident pose
Dressed in affluent clothes
Reflecting the renaissance
As a painted response
From the gilded stage
Of the golden age
Comparing his talent to the stars
Renaissance men setting the bars
In their imagery and paints
Tied by the traditional restraints
Different times, a different gauge
Reflected within the golden age
©JGFarmer2020
Form: Collins Sestet
The briefest thought that planted in my mind
Was only heard when I was left behind,
The shadowed walls of prejudicial hate
Where I was made to suffer while-u-wait;
Yet still I could feel echoes from above
They were telling me to believe in love.
In another time in a distant place,
I'd dance with sublime elegance and grace
To rhythm chanted by passioned romance
Oh, how my feet would long to join the dance
Amid the stars and all the light thereof
I wanted to believe that there is love.
I sought the chance to be me, to be free
I looked throughout the world but couldn’t see,
The light that guides is not found here or there,
Until the heart can see and be aware
The truth within the soul that speaks thereof
Believe or not, it is the path to love.
Now when I look upon the universe
Without old fears or whispering a curse,
I know I'll dance in my own unique way
For love, has found a place in me to play,
From briefest thought I long ago dreamed of
I found my heart believed in precious love
©JGFarmer2011
His amber eyes recall the jungle ways,
The silent spirit call from distant days,
Those ancient echoes that now touch his soul,
Before Man came to tame the wild carole,
When the world moved to a different law
And gods would stop to hear the tiger's roar.
His honeyed stripes an echo of his pains,
Of chasing his prey across Savannah plains,
Now he chases shelter that Man denied
In endless cravings for a thrilling ride
Still the cat remembers what was before
And gods would stop to hear the tiger's roar.
His stretching paws are seeking comfort deep
As he lays himself down for gentle sleep
He longs for wiser days no longer found
The days when all the world was hallowed ground,
And I wonder how, when as we ignore
The gods shall stop to hear the tiger's roar.
©JGFarmer2011
Form: Collins Sestet
Those gentle words that speak of loving grace
Where e'er I gaze upon her moonlit face
The sacred love that longs to comfort me,
Within the shadows of a dream I see
That home is where the heart is, so they say,
And love divine is where the poets play.
And as I pray in lunar light, I long
To hear the melody of magic's song;
Oh, mysteries in holy words of love,
Impart my soul to know the truth thereof,
That home is where the heart is, so they say,
And love divine is where the poets play
©JGFarmer2011
Form: Burns’ Stanza
When the robin visited that day
In guano, he set me out to lay
Unknowing the bird came to play
I laid beneath the sun
My warmth on a cold winter’s day
As birds play I was born
Alone, I shuddered into dirt
My shelter when wind and rain hurt
No mercy for me, just a squirt
Waiting for nature’s call
Alone in the mud with no shirt
Beside the garden wall
I cussed my luck ‘til early spring
First shooting leaves began to sing
Reaching out for the sun to bring
My first buds out for you
Soon I will bloom in colours swing
With bright and vibrant hue
At last my petals open wide
Velvet purple, no need to hide
My flowers shimmer with my pride
As they await your kiss
On summer’s day, my love, confide
Your heart within my bliss
©JGFarmer2020
Jezzie G 