A poem about a writing challenge I gave myself this week.
I'll pursue this task without delay!
A lofty challenge for the mind,
but worry not! The words I'll find!
A verse of love will be the first,
(that treacherous emotion, both blessing and curse!)
A second day will bring remorse,
words of regret, wretched discourse.
Day three will find a dark, bleak rhyme;
a hint of terror would be sublime.
Next in queue: of nature's wrath,
Of life beyond the aftermath.
On day five, words fall to chance;
I'll pen an ode of happenstance.
A lullaby awaits soon after,
To bring sweet sound of child's laughter.
(a whimsical tale with form and meter,
shall delight the youngest reader!)
The final day of this scribe's exertion,
brings somber notes of disconcertion:
Of loss, of love, of blood, or death,
an opus to expel one's breath.
And with my quest for verse complete,
both thought and pen will find retreat.