See bare the branches, boldly stark
against the ghostly garden rot;
it’s lure of leaves have left, to knots
and fits, my fists are folded; dark
my heart is hunger, heckled from
the clotted clouds and cold of fall.
But drums of dread, this death of numb-
ness brings a brittle beauty; mauls
yet gives its gold, a gad of mind
a summer’s softness saved and found.
Today prompt at toads is to write 10 line poetry to “The eye of the Beholder” at toads. My 10 line is a small invention that combines alliterative poetry with rhymes, and formal meter. It should be fun to read aloud. Also linking to Poetry Pantry.
November 8, 2015