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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Spiritual >> ID #1540855 |
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![]() Mist-like, veils of time slowly lift showing a path that seems to drift, meandering as if by chance. Life's map, once scribed in youthful hues, now guides in ways I didn't choose. I attend skyward in askance. I knew my goal. I knew my way yet somehow I have gone astray. Another's hand or just mischance? Do I follow or do I lead as along the path I proceed to some promised heavenly manse? I won't bemoan, what e're my fate, nor sing of my successes great. Instead, I'll just enjoy the dance, moving with purpose, not adrift, thankful for the mapmaker's gift: a road to guide through life's expanse. Notes Prompt: Picture Form: Nove Otto It has a basic construction of 9 lines, with 8 syllables per line. The rhyme pattern for the poem is aacbbcddc. For more than one stanza, or to create a 'chain', stanzas would be structured as: eecffcggc, hhciicjjc, etc... askance - with disapproval, suspicion, or distrust. manse - the dwelling of a landholder; mansion. Thank you for reading my words... Please, take a few moments and leave a comment. Reactions, criticisms, even a kind word... all are equally welcome. Ken
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