POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.


The HexSonnetta, created by Andrea Dietrich, consists of two six-line stanzas and a finishing rhyming couplet with the following set of rules:

Meter: Iambic Trimeter
Rhyme Scheme: a/bb/aa/b c/dd/cc/d ee

Iambic Trimeter means the usual iambic (alternating unstressed/stressed) meter for every line of the poem, but instead of the ten syllables that comprise a typical sonnet’s iambic pentameter, this particular form uses six syllables of iambic trimeter per line. Thus, the name HexSonnetta. The first part of the form’s name refers to the syllable count per line. The second part of the name, Sonnetta, is to show this to be a form similar to the sonnet, yet with its shorter lines and different rhyme scheme, it is not the typical sonnet. Not only does this poem have six syllables per line, it also has a set of two six-line stanzas, giving an extra “hex” to the meaning of HexSonnetta. The rhyme scheme is a bit of a mixture of the two traditional sonnet types, with the two 6-line stanzas having more the rhyme scheme of an Italian sonnet, but with the ending rhyming couplet being the featured rhyme scheme of the English sonnet. The first stanza presents the theme of the poem, with the second stanza serving to change the tone of the poem, to introduce a new aspect of the theme or to give added details. The final couplet, as in an English sonnet, can be either a summary (if the theme is simple) or it could be the resolution to a problem presented in the theme. In any event, it should nicely tie together the whole piece and could even appear as a nice “twist” presented at the end.



 Her strength is weakly veiled
To those who know her well
And see the utter hell
With which she is assailed
In every breath inhaled;
Concealed in every cell.
Decisions made with grit,
That wells from depths unknown
To shake her to the bone,
And yet she doesn’t quit.
To this, I must admit:
I place her on a throne.
Her angels battle on;
Triumphant swords are drawn.
© Copyright Marie Elena Good  – 2013



Beneath the moonlit sky
two lovers seek repose,
for lovers in the throes
of passion by-and- by,
would bring a fool to cry,
for that’s the way love goes.

These shadows cast at night,
are of the hearts that fall,
they live to hear love’s call
before they drop from sight,
for when the time is right,
two hearts will share it all.

The moon’s bright lights caress
the hearts within their chests.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

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  1. Yay! Marie is back! The garden wasn’t quite the same without you. 🙂 Your HexSonetta is so powerful. Those last two lines – wow, just wow…

    Walt, that is so beautiful!

  2. Rhyme, Reason, Faith

    She tried to see the rhyme,
    The reason of it all,
    But couldn’t stop her fall,
    Or bring back wasted time,
    Or alter the design
    Of fate, or heed her call;

    She only saw the wrong,
    And only felt the pain;
    Her tears fell like the rain;
    She whispered, “he is gone”,
    But saw new morning dawn,
    And felt night’s power wane;

    Her faith will hold fast still
    In Him, it always will.

    © Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013

  3. William Preston on said:


    I saw a bird of fire
    with gleaming sable wings
    whose fresh appearance brings
    pulsations to the mire
    and ends the winter’s dire
    affront to nascent springs.

    Its countenance of red
    uplifted my hard heart
    and set my soul apart
    from drear and ancient dread;
    it long had lain abed
    and needed this new start.

    No longer am I numb:
    the tanager has come.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  4. William Preston on said:


    I heard the news at noon:
    my friend has died today.
    I felt acute dismay,
    for he had passed too soon
    and with him went the boon
    of his disarming way.

    But then I saw his smile
    and heard again his jokes,
    that kind that rendered folks
    too weak for wit or guile.
    His soul lived all the while
    he cried, “Avast, dear blokes.”

    Death has lost its gaff;
    it’s time again to laugh.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

  5. connielpeters on said:

    Marriage Glue

    When marriages grow stale
    The heart turns dull and bleak
    The spirit’s rendered weak
    Begins to taste of hell
    Temptation rings a bell
    The bored begin to seek

    Some struggle with their will
    They try to do things right
    Put up a fervent fight
    But tire in their zeal
    Reduced to what they feel
    Go off into the night

    God’s goodness is the glue
    That makes one of the two

  6. Erin started us off brilliantly, followed by another two of my favorites – William and Connie. I love this place. 🙂

    Marie Elena

  7. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Meg… such strength captured… ! Walt… loveliness…

  8. His Love

    His love will never fail
    Though we fail Him each day
    We fail to walk His way
    We fail and fail and fail
    His love for us prevails
    He’ll take our sins away

    He loves with love supreme
    There is no greater love
    A love from God above
    A love above extreme
    Too much love it would seem
    Can there be too much love

    He is the only One
    God’s love comes through His Son

  9. ejparsons on said:

    Caught a little misty-eye while writing this one. I must be getting old.

    For My Son

    The first time I laid eyes
    On such a precious gift
    My spirit, it did lift
    And I began to cry
    Could I believe my eyes?
    Could I accept this gift?

    The years flew by too fast
    What once could only crawl
    My precious gift grew tall
    Made memories that last
    The years flew by too fast
    Again I’d do it all

    It’s hard to let him go
    I’ll always love him so

  10. Lamenting Spring, Aching for Summer

    Her arrival is late,
    the cold and soggy air
    but makes us mad and swear.
    Up close to my man, mate –
    each night, like a first date,
    my soul and body bare.

    May, just a lime green haze
    with blooms slow to appear
    and June barely in gear,
    through a drizzle filled daze
    look skyward for sun rays,
    Summer slowly comes near.

    I long for hot, dry heat –
    less rain, bare toes, cold treat.

  11. Child’s Play

    With driveway chalk we drew
    a hopscotch board of squares:
    some single; some in pairs,
    and then we got in queue.
    A stone, each kid then threw
    to mark off ‘ mine’ or ‘theirs.’

    We played ‘til Tim got bored.
    He tapped someone. “Hey, you
    are it!” The game morphed to
    Freeze Tag. Our giggling horde
    would dash, then freeze, to ward
    off being tagged. It’s true.

    We only left the street
    to go inside to eat.


  12. Unrequited Love

    “I tell you I like you all the time. Or at least in my head, I do… “~Unknown

    This unrequited crush
    is solely in my head:
    a constant running thread
    about which I could gush
    but words are all a-hush.
    I wish I could, instead,

    say what I truly think.
    I’d like to ask you out
    but then, I’m filled with doubt.
    I’m almost at the brink
    when confidences shrink
    How long can this drag out?

    This unrequited view
    must go. “Hey…I like you…”


  13. European Education

    “In Paris, you learn wit, in London, you learn to crush your social rivals, in Florence, you learn poise.” ~Virgil Thomson

    In Paris, you will learn
    to use your clever wit.
    In London, you’ll admit,
    you’ll crush your foes, in turn,
    as social rivals burn.
    That’s how you will acquit

    yourself with great aplomb.
    And then, in Florence, you’ll
    be brilliant, oh-so-cool
    and hold glam in your palm.
    With poise you can be calm
    (A guideline – not a rule.)

    In travel, you’ll go far
    just like a boss rock star.


  14. William Preston on said:

    Yes, that’s exactly how it was, right down to the last lines.

    • William Preston on said:

      Curses! Foiled again! This comment applies to your Child’s Play poem, but the other two are wonderful also. In fact, reading all three, I get the feeling of someone growing up.

  15. Oh, my…great pieces, both, Marie & Walt. Loved them.


    It’s painful, when you’re twelve,
    When no one understands,
    You’re in the borderlands,
    Your world – a darkened delve,
    When slips away the helve,
    Of life from your small hands.

    Lift up your troubled face,
    I wish I could explain
    Or take away the pain,
    I’d gladly take your place,
    But words don’t leave a trace,
    Old wisdom shared in vain.

    Still, listen, my tween lass:
    And this, this too, shall pass.

  17. Such beautiful poems, Marie and Walt.
    Marie, you’re back! 🙂


    The world’s a gift we take
    From when the sun ascends
    Until the hours end,
    A world that for our sake
    A loving God did make
    And daily He attends.

    And how’s this gift repaid?
    Some doubt there is a God,
    This Earth on which we trod
    Appeared without His aid?
    Oh hearts of hardened jade,
    Look up! There is a God!

    Do change your attitude.
    Show God some gratitude.


  19. Marie – Great to see you back! – Awesome Poem.

  20. William Preston on said:


    A poet, hunched in his abode,
    once mused a melancholy ode
    about a muse who promised gold
    but left instead a loathy load
    of limpid lines from days of old,
    when underwear was damp and cold.

    The poet thought a lot about it,
    then thought some more and thought to shout it:
    “It seems unfair! I’m sitting here,
    no pen in hand, and so, without it,
    I cannot write nor play the seer
    while fables fly and verses veer.”

    Pleased with himself, the poet slept
    while, all about him, muses wept.

    copyright 2013, William Preston

    note: this was inspired by the “hexsonnetta” form; perhaps one could call it an octasonnett

  21. I had a go at it but it didn’t quite work for me and I had to sneak in a few seventh syllables for flow. *sigh*


    The twilight is bringing
    A stillness, without grace.
    No jacket can erase
    A shiver that is tingling.
    The birds have stopped their singing—
    It seemed so out of place.

    The light is quickly fading,
    The sense is of despair,
    A chill hangs in the air,
    While shadows are parading,
    The sadness is pervading,
    It’s more than most can bear.

    With the fading of the light,
    The darkness of the night.

  22. DebiSwim on said:

    Box of Hope

    She takes a cardboard case
    down from the closet shelf
    and hugs it to herself,
    then staring into space
    she takes a breath to brace
    the hope within herself.

    Slowly she lifts the lid,
    regards the tiny shoe
    pink, lacy bow, brand new
    that lay beneath that lid
    where her sweet dreams were hid
    in pastel colored hues

    Of anticipation
    for this new creation.

  23. I’ll use this to write my “bitter” poem for the Thirty-by-Thirty Challenge. I read a week or so ago that by gradually changing (through selection) the taste and content of our food, we are making it less nourishing. Bitter may be better!

    How often we complain
    whenever we must eat
    the bitter with the sweet
    and look with such disdain
    at herbs that sprout with rain
    in tufts along the street

    Wise ones who came before
    knew bitterness of taste
    meant nothing went to waste
    to nourish even poor
    folks, right outside their door,
    plants others missed in haste

    to get their sweeter fare,
    less nourishing than air.

  24. You have my solemn oath that I will never attempt this form again!

    Friends Starting Out

    I see you found a friend,
    important thing to do.
    You each found someone new.
    As teens you’ll have to fend
    off girls who’ll want to spend,
    in ways they’re want to do,

    all their precious hours
    with you, as a steady beau.
    As you will come to know,
    first love is like fresh flower
    blooming bright, it grows.

    Your stomach’s butterflies
    will never fly as high.

  25. They Stand Tall

    They stand tall at the gate
    Protecting all inside
    Alert, eyes open wide
    Attentively they wait
    They will not hesitate
    Their mission cut-and-dried

    They answered freedom’s call
    Put selfish needs on hold
    United, strong and bold
    They stand tall for us all
    They stand as freedom’s wall
    America’s stronghold

    They sacrifice for right
    They keep lit freedom’s light

    © 2013 Earl Parsons

  26. The Coast

    No cloud floats in the sky
    Between my toes white sand
    Green water laps the land
    Sunglasses protect eyes
    A cool breeze passes by
    The beautiful coastland

    A mist of salty air
    Infused by water’s stirred
    Waves lap at walking birds
    On quest for what lay there
    When waves leave beach laid bare
    On journey back seaward

    ‘Tis the Emerald Coast
    The coast that I love most

    © 2013 Earl Parsons

  27. Peuplier Faux-Tremble

    Here’s something cool, quite right:
    the French say, ‘Tremble.’ Same
    as ‘aspen.’ (English name.)
    This poem I now write
    is just to shed some light
    on tremble/aspen’s fame.

    This aspen is unique.
    A different kind of tree:
    it clones itself. But see,
    although its bark is sleek
    it has a strange physique
    and trembles where winds be.

    I think this narration
    got lost in translation.


  28. (Hexsonnetta)


    Awakened much too soon
    so premature that glow
    her budding mouth was closed.
    So warm but without bloom;
    So silent as the tomb,
    the sound within her froze

    Her marker leaves no joy
    though flowers shadow where
    her mom has left them there.
    A faded, rattled toy
    the sun a faithful ploy
    as if it somehow cared.

    And so my rose is gone
    and in my heart; no song.

  29. Pingback: Hexsonetta | Gene's Musings

    • Heroes Every Day

      To idly stand aside,
      would tear these ones apart
      as if you burned their heart,
      and left them there to die.
      All risks they will defy,
      to simply say they tried.

      It’s in their blood to save.
      Emergencies will chime
      and spouses cry each time –
      In love with what they do –
      it’s saving me and you,
      and yes, the risks are grave.

      A hero every day –
      The firefighter’s way.

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