First, I’d like to take this time to thank William Preston for his exceptional work proving weekly prompts in my prolonged absence. His acumen and thoughtful and imaginative prompts brought the best out of our poets. This prompt concludes the prompts he had offered for consideration. William’s work is exception and his continued contributions to this site warranty the opportunity to earn BLOOMS and the recognition they offer. We will forego the IN-FORM POET prompt this week only as I will outline some changes in how POETIC BLOOMINGS will move forward. But for now, Prompt #137: WATER:

Among the things necessary for life as we understand it, is water. It makes up most of Earth, as we learn early in life, and seems to be the best-tasting drink there is when one is good and thirsty.  It can be majestic, as seen from the shore of an ocean or a great lake, and intimate, as seen in a rivulet in a meadow. It reflects everything, from a night sky to flashlight. It has tremendous power and exerts tremendous pressure, as anyone who has wet cellar walls can tell you. It is probably the most ubiquitous stuff there is, save for air and dark matter. Write a “water” poem.



confounds. Best to wait, or,
as my dad used to say, “hold your

© copyright 2014, William Preston



The happy dead are in its voice.
Majestic Poet! Might I be as full of song.
Melodies of seafarers past
haunt each true and measured step.
Lilting, ever-lifting; a gift
from the weary mariner to Neptune’s ear.
Accompanied in breath and beat,
symphonic sound of a lunar baton.
Maestro of the night, unwavering.
Building to crescendo, euphonious.
Tympani, cacophonous crash;
an introduction to the score
so written. And hidden within
languishes its familiar song,
lyrical expressions of heart and soul,
left to wash away traces of the moment.
Never ending refrain, sing again!

**Derived from “On Seeing A Train Start For the Seaside” by English poet, Norman Rowland Gale

© copyright 2014, Walter J Wojtanik

An additional poem by William Preston:

William had one more “prompt” slated for use, but it fell within the guideline of Form and was basically the IN-FORM FREE-FOR-ALL from last Wednesday. But the example he provided is worth posting here. All I can say is “Good form, William. Good form!”


Ofttimes, whilst eating beans and wieners
I’m apt to write obtuse fourteeners;

when gazing at milady’s bonnet
I’m sometimes moved to pen a sonnet;

whilst watching swallows swoop the dell
I might compose a villanelle;

and at the close of winter days
I’m moved to scribble triolets.

I make my points by writing tines
of Crapsey’s quintessential lines

and prone I am to tossing salads
by mixing rondelets and ballads;

when circular reasoning crimps my brain
I write pantoums to ease the pain,

and when my rhymes die in the tank
I settle for a verse that’s blank

unless, of course, I’m up a tree
and must resort to verses free.

© copyright 2013, William Preston