Poetry Prompt: Tradition
Poets: Sue Fernott, Carol Forrester, Brittaina Goffy and Ambrozya
For Better, For Worse by Sue Fernott
Swathes of white satin and lace
Swirl like mountain mist,
As light through jewelled glass
Paints rainbow abstracts upon ancient stone.
Displays of timeless tradition unfold,
Golden bands stowed safely away,
Pockets stuffed with paper petals,
Whispers escaping from nervous lips.
Unwelcome misgivings rise unbidden
Fuelled by memories of past indiscretions,
Buried, but shallowly,
Beneath unspoken promises.
Temporary truces, delicate as cobwebs,
Seem resilient in the gentle spring breeze,
But enforced alliances seldom hold
When shadows fall and winter winds blow.
Swirl like mountain mist,
As light through jewelled glass
Paints rainbow abstracts upon ancient stone.
Displays of timeless tradition unfold,
Golden bands stowed safely away,
Pockets stuffed with paper petals,
Whispers escaping from nervous lips.
Unwelcome misgivings rise unbidden
Fuelled by memories of past indiscretions,
Buried, but shallowly,
Beneath unspoken promises.
Temporary truces, delicate as cobwebs,
Seem resilient in the gentle spring breeze,
But enforced alliances seldom hold
When shadows fall and winter winds blow.
Tradition by Carol Forrester
It became tradition to have Christmas at my grandmother's.
The four generations,
Ba, Granny, Mum, Jo and I
in the kitchen after lunch
with the CD player on in the background
while Granddad and dad retreated
and we dealt with the washing up,
before presents would be opened
and the piano played
and songs sang over tea and coffee
while we waited for the TV Christmas specials
to be watched at the other end of the bungalow,
away from the grownups and their conversation.
I miss our traditions.
I miss Ba more.
The four generations,
Ba, Granny, Mum, Jo and I
in the kitchen after lunch
with the CD player on in the background
while Granddad and dad retreated
and we dealt with the washing up,
before presents would be opened
and the piano played
and songs sang over tea and coffee
while we waited for the TV Christmas specials
to be watched at the other end of the bungalow,
away from the grownups and their conversation.
I miss our traditions.
I miss Ba more.
Tradition? by Brittaina Goffy
I wonder
is tradition a string, a loop,
or a coil?
Do you run forward
with the past in your hands
or backwards,
forever?
Is it a photo album,
one book with many pictures added,
generation after generation,
year after year, forever
growing?
Is it a repeating history,
time, time again, and time and time again?
Is it just a memory, fading,
refreshed, replaced anew?
is tradition a string, a loop,
or a coil?
Do you run forward
with the past in your hands
or backwards,
forever?
Is it a photo album,
one book with many pictures added,
generation after generation,
year after year, forever
growing?
Is it a repeating history,
time, time again, and time and time again?
Is it just a memory, fading,
refreshed, replaced anew?
Fireflies In The Wind by Ambrozya
Sparks in the silent night
Testimonial of the impermanence
Temporary tears, wonders of joy
Fleeting souls
Circle of joy, circle of light
Faeries
Mysteries
The fragile nature of life
One night to love
One single dance
Before the sun burns it all
Like fireflies in the wind
We loved, we danced
A mystery fading in the morning
Like fireflies in the wind...
Testimonial of the impermanence
Temporary tears, wonders of joy
Fleeting souls
Circle of joy, circle of light
Faeries
Mysteries
The fragile nature of life
One night to love
One single dance
Before the sun burns it all
Like fireflies in the wind
We loved, we danced
A mystery fading in the morning
Like fireflies in the wind...