The curve of his neck seems a metaphor,
not "clothed in thunder" (Job 39:19)
but something serene and comforting -
perhaps more akin to soft summer rain.
His nose tickles, comforts
like no words ever can; lips inquisitive -
searching for sweet treats
I gladly offer.
Ears flick backward, forward
as I test iambic pentameter -
his head nods, warm brown eyes
seemingly approve. He's easily pleased.
Trees brim with birds, mint green grass
is sprouting, and words flutter & tease me
to reach out, grasp, frame them
within lines and margins.
I lean forward ever so slightly,
send Oberon off into a gallop -
challenge this budding spring day
to escape my poetic lasso.
by Margaret Bednar, March 28, 2017
This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Thought Animals"
The challenge was to write this poem in quadrille form - I thought that meant four line stanzas - not a total of 44 words! So not to be accused of not following the rules, here is a 44 version:
Curve of his neck's a metaphor
not "clothed in thunder"...
more akin to soft summer rain.
His ears flick backward
as I test iambic pentameter
mint green grass & words flutter -
tease to be tamed within lines & margins
try to defy my poetic lasso
And also with "The Tuesday Platform"