Day 15 at the NaPoWriMo 2013 April adventure featured a glimpse at the Pantun poetic form.

The pantun is a Malay poetic form. Per Wikipedia, the pantun originated as a traditional oral form of expression. The most common theme is love.

The basic pantun consists of a quatrain (4-line verse). Commonly, each line contains between 8 and 12 syllables, and employs an abab rhyme scheme.  A pantun traditionally  follows a fixed rhythm.   Again, per Wikipedia, “The first and second lines sometimes appear completely disconnected in meaning from the third and fourth, but there is almost invariably a link of some sort. Whether it be a mere association of ideas, or of feeling, expressed through assonance or through the faintest nuance of a thought, it is nearly always traceable.”



 Threadbare blankets lay lightly on the chaise;
His loose change clinking as he shuffles off.
A ticking clock broadcasts that life’s a race,
While clicking cane attends a muffled cough.
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013



…and all at once, the rain had ceased.
When did my children grow so quick?
The length of sunshine has increased.
Why has it left me feeling sick

when the warmth of Spring emerges?
Little girls become young women
Comfort in this season’s surges.
and all the changes from within –

blossoms having rooted now bloom,
Decorating each life they touch,
fragrant flowers fill up the room.
truly knowing they mean so much.

Life’s bouquet gathered together,
Grown in love to know what life means;
flourishing in all kinds of weather,
ever-growing, evergreen!

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013


  1. Pictures of You

    Night is when I miss you the most,
    My dreams are flooded with pictures of you:
    Our hearts, and our fingers, almost
    Touching, mine almost healed, still broke in two.

    I know you’re in a better place,
    And there’s no more pain, but that won’t stop me
    From crying, wishing to see your face.
    At night our fingers almost touch…in dreams.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  2. Across the floor two marbles roll left and right.
    Mom unties her apron, hangs it on a hook.
    Bob’s off to Stanford, the Navy’s garnered Dwight.
    Now Mom gathers memories in a scrapbook.

  3. Life
    (a Pantun)

    Born naked on a hot, humid Northeast August day
    Walking on snow white beaches of the Emerald Coast
    Screen saver pictures spur memories from far away
    Impossible to pick a memory that is loved the most

  4. Thanks for using this form, Walt-Marie. I really enjoyed it a few days ago when we did it over at NaPoWriMo. This is another chance to use it again.

      • Here’s an idea for you, Walt. Begin a real challenge for this form. Write one, pass it on to the next poet in line (whomever finds it first) and have them write the next stanza, and so on down the line. Give it a month to keep going, and then see what you have at the end.

        I’ll bet you’d have enough for an entire volume of Bloomings. 🙂

          • Thanks, Hen. I have to admit that I cheated. Meena and I were doing it the other night as a form of chat, totally spontaneous. We had fun with it. I thought it would be a great way to get everyone into the fun and to see what kind of organic collaboration would result.

  5. Twilight

    Setting sun and rising moon dance together
    At the mingling of the light,
    Casting fleeting shadows of red and silver
    On earth, turning grey, at twilight.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  6. Formidable

    Cradled gently within her hands
    an injured bird with feathers bent.
    They swung to the beat of the big bands
    moving with grace, as one – they were simply meant.

  7. Loving this form the more I work with it. Thanks again, guys.


    Your presence moves along the length of me,
    trailing shivers with your merest touch;
    oh, that intimacy comes to this reverie,
    as air’s chill lingers from blankets in your clutch.

  8. The Shot

    The fog laid heavy and low wasting away the sunrise beauty
    4 AM and 100 miles spent hurrying all for naught
    Alas, the tidewaters recede, exposing creation’s glory
    He’d have traveled a thousand miles for that million dollar shot

  9. Pollinated

    Pollen layers yellow hazy green
    down, drifting onto decks and cars below.
    I’d tell you what I think, but it’s obscene,
    of allergies that seem to grow and grow.

    In spring, the world is moved to monstrous mating.
    Why wouldn’t vegetation join the game?
    But people really don’t need pollinating.
    Botanic sex makes us sneeze, snivel, blame.

  10. It’s a far more subtle form than I was expecting. Meter, rhyme, assonance, the disconnected 3rd and 4th lines. Man. How is it you are all making this lok so easy? Color me wowwed.


    At dusk, two mourning doves lean on a limb;
    wing to wing, they sway and tuck their head.
    He helps her from her chair, or she helps him,
    and side by side, they shuffle off to bed.

  11. Schooled

    I sit in the school caff, and my thoughts drift off.
    Some loud music comes from a table nearby.
    I push my food into a peak and a trough
    and glance up at the skylight. I heave a sigh.

    A day in the life of middle-aged hausfraus
    who go back to school to jump start a career.
    So, why do we do it? I guess it’s because
    we still learn. Here’s to the next semester year.


    • RJ, it can be so invigorating, can’t it, this learning every hour of the day, whether we want to or not? At least now you have a better handle on the studies that tug at your heart and give you a pleasure that you wouldn’t have gotten as a young student. Some of my best middle-aged years were spent at university. There are many times I still miss it. I recognize the feelings behind this poem and its images. Good one.

  12. Ringlets

    Whimsical, magical, brightness
    Lying together in blades of green.
    Senses sharpened to utter softness
    Untouching no union in the sheen.

  13. I found this difficult, but here goes:

    Sounds Under The Skin

    Arduous climb to mountain peak
    Cold, clear air, blanket of silence.
    Amid ceaseless city sounds, she hears that creak
    of the broken floorboard, his last act of defiance.

  14. Color’s Harmony

    Though the melody of rain is gone,
    The land still feels refreshed and green;
    A tinge of pink came with the dawn,
    To clothe in light what might have been;

    Though that sweet melody has past,
    The sky is still as blue as then;
    The sun has brought yellow en masse,
    The rain is gone, now sings the wren.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  15. Spring Guest

    Blustery, windy day blow thru
    in gusty gales of whirling play.
    A door, a window, a Heart for you,
    Sit down, you have so much to say.

    • Sweet! “…sit down, you have so much to say…” I love that. Cause it reminds me of a very good friend of mine. She’s always ready to listen to me talk, even though she’s very busy and has five kids. Thanks for this lovely poem, Hen! 🙂

      • Aww… how wonderful for you to have such a special friend, Erin!! (and Thank You for reading it… Oh, don’t tell anyone, but this poem is about my Special friend, “the wind” :D!)

        • Yes, she is one of the dearest people I have ever met. And she has such sweet children! I’m their official babysitter and piano teacher. I love to teach them! 🙂

          I won’t tell anyone about the wind….though I think you’ve already let the secret out. 😉 I love the wind as well. It’s become the theme of many of my poems.

  16. My Sweet Nuisance…

    It’s night, all is darkness now, not by choice;
    Through the window softly shines the moonlight;
    A hand on my arm, a soft little voice:
    “Erin, can’t I sleep in your bed tonight?”

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  17. Evolution

    Thru the thicket of acquaintance flow,
    Into a quiet wonderland.
    Disembody your heart, mind, and soul,
    Leave me only a shoulder and a warm hand.

  18. Peaceful Reunion

    Earthshaking calm washes over me,
    as all of the storms have passed me by.
    Peering into my eyes, what do I see…
    A moment of grace was left behind.

  19. Lost in His Eyes

    My face is flushing scarlet red,
    My heart pulsating; no surprise:
    I still can’t move or turn my head,
    Lost in those warm, dark chocolate eyes.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

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