Excellent, David!  Keep it up!

I like this, M...

but I just suggest that you attempt to make the lines a uniform length.  That isn't an ABSOLUTE necessity, and I'm not sure whether the originator DEMANDS that, but all the ones that I've seen written have the same length.... though they can be any length that you like, so long as it's uniform.

I don't think you'll have too much trouble accomplishing that.  You've already done the most important identifier: the dividing and restating of the first line differentsly, but with the same words.

limited in my comments, in Light of how difficult it has been to post.  Earlier, I couldn't even GET here!

~ Daniel 

No, no, David!  You have exactly the right idea.  You're well on the way to grasping the concept, so keep it up...

and you're too humble about your abilities, but I'm sure that N joins me in thanking you for your sentiment.  It's merely that we may be the only two on our site who've been exposed to the form?  That's why I made it the FOM for June!  I just realized a couple of weeks ago that we'd never posted here since the site began, which surprised me.

Here's the one that I mentioned to you yesterday in my post, I think, in On Track; I did share it last night along with A Wondering Sheep and Catching Mania... and I even SANG Never was your love...  plus I stumbled on a very accomplished accompanist to play it for me at the last minute (to the tune of the Perry Como standard, And I love you so).  Again, here's the piece I wrote yesterday:

I Just Keep Goin’

You think I’m crazy just because my mind
runs out ahead of yours... or you can’t find
me when there’s work – then say I’m lazy –
just because my mind….  You think I’m crazy!

Well, nonetheless, I don’t need therapy;
it’s you!  And medicine?  You wanna see
my head on backwards?  make me more a mess?
I don’t need therapy.  Well – nonetheless...

I started out.  There’s no one I would trust,
and even when I did, I often brushed
them off, while inside wrestling fear and doubt....
There’s no one I would trust….  I started out,

but move in measured steps; I won’t give up
on me (we both had pondered that enough –
and wished I’d leapt).  We know I’m not inept;
I won’t give up, but move in measured steps.

I’ll just keep goin’, though the road is long;
I walk with folks who show me I belong,
for WHO I am, not WHAT... true friendship, showin’
though the road is long, I’ll just keep goin’.

_{© MLee Dickens'son 14 June 2008}

I hadn't remembered that it was a response to yours myself, N... so don't beat up on your memory too much.  I think it tends to be a bit fragile at times. 

Here's another venture into this month's FOM, from my contemplation during the sermon Sunday morning:


For Crying Out Loud

Can my conscience still cry?  If I'm lost
in the world without values I've tossed
can I turn, let God fix what's awry?
If I'm lost, can my conscience still cry?

Though opposed to the proud, still He gives
grace that humbles my heart; mercy lives
in Eternity's plan.  As He's vowed
still He gives — though opposed to the proud.

When I draw near to Him, He's right there
'neath the laughter I’m belching for air
hiding pain in a stiff upstream swim.
He's right there when I draw near to Him.

_{© MLee Dickens'son 08 June 2008
reflection on James 4:1-10}

Thank you, David...

and nas... perhaps you'll recall that my poem was actually written in response to yours and subsequent discussion of it by several others?

deLighting in the recollection, Daniel 

Coincidentally, here's one I made earlier on the same subject.

Migraine

I’m feeling ill, my head is thumping,
held in a vice with hammers jumping;
fetch me water, a little pink pill,
my head is thumping, I’m feeling ill.

I must lie down, nausea’s rising,
darkened room the doc’s advising;
head kept still so it won’t pound,
nausea’s rising, I must lie down

I’m feeling fine the pain is gone,
tentatively the battle now won;
In future I’ll avoid red wine,
the pain is gone, I’m feeling fine.

Swap Quatrains

Swap Quatrains are an invention of an old friend, Lorraine M. Kanter, proprietor of Mosaic Musings.  Her parameters are simply that each quatrain stanza must form of a kind of reversal of L1 in L4.  The swapped segments must be completely intact, and the rhyme scheme is aabb ccdd eeff ... xxyy.  L1 may be divided at any point for swapping the segments, so long as the words in each segment remain in sequential order. 

The originator suggests that iambic perhaps will work best, but there is neither a requirement for meter nor line-length (except that each line should have the same length), and there may be as many stanzas as the author desires so long as there is not a repetition of a previous rhyme.

Here are a few examples from my folio:


The Hour Comes

When I have time to write, I think
some inner strands drift into sync
to utter things that give me fright.
I think… when I have time to write

about whatever’s going on
in front of me, in dewy dawn,
when thunder claps, or in a drought…
whatever’s going on about.

I sometimes feel forgotten wisps
of memory; they stammer, lisp
near-visibly… almost congeal
forgotten wisps I sometimes feel.

I can’t decide who’s whispering,
or shouting, laughing, whimpering
where joy and pain somehow collide.
Who’s whispering? I can’t decide.

The hour comes I have to go….
I wonder if I’ll ever know
what went on when I sucked my thumb….
I have to go. The hour comes.

_{© MLee Dickens'son 03 May 2006}


so I’m a Krank

I can’t; I don’t.
I’m done; I won’t.
It’s true, I shan’t.
I don’t; I can’t

This year, no tree
Just wait and see:
no mess to clear;
no tree this year

No cards I’ll send;
there’d be no end.
To all our bards
I’ll send no cards.

I'm Scrooge?  Too bad!
No gifts!  So sad?
My wallet’s huge.
Too bad; I’m Scrooge!

_{© MLee Dickens’son 01 Dec 2004} 


Close Makes the Man?

I had no clothes
in baby pose;
See… I weren’t sad 
no clothes I had.

As I contoured
some duds procured;
rare was the guy
contoured as I.

As I have aged
I see that my
young thought and eye
have aged as I.

New Year’s may bring
a festive fling;
glad rags and peers
may bring new years.

_{© MLee Dickens'son 01 Dec 2004}


Silent Night
. . . Holy Cow!

If I could write
about that night
I surely would
write… if I could.

Our night woke up.
A startled pup
yapped… blazing Light
woke up our night.

I would shout how
it felt.  Right now
I wish I could 
shout.  How I would!

I’m still a sheep…
can’t say a peep,
I’m by God’s will
a sheep.  I’m still.

_{© MLee Dickens'son 11 Dec 2004}


Writing Blisters

Writing blisters
Lennon Sisters;
were they knighting
blisters writing?

They're not his kin?
Well, that's a sin,
'cause they were hot;
his kin they’re not?

Could Sir Lennon
place his pen on
olive branch wood?
Sure, Lennon could!

Snow would relieve
the pain.  Don't grieve.
His fall it should
relieve; snow would.

_{© MLee Dickens'son 13 Dec 2004}