July 16 – Bordering the south ridge of cabins in our complex, we find serenity in the guise of Lake Granada. That is your inspiration today. Write a lake poem, or around a lake, something “lake-like”. And of course being Wednesday (we got off easy last week) our form for our lake poems uses the Ottava Rima.
OTTAVA RIMA is a rhyming stanza form of Italian origin. Originally used for long poems on heroic themes, it later came to be popular in the writing of mock-heroic works.
The ottava rima stanza in English consists of eight iambic lines, usually iambic pentameters. Each stanza consists of three alternate rhymes and one double rhyme, following the a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c pattern. The form is similar to the older Sicilian octave, but evolved separately and is unrelated.
STAYING ON THE TRAIL
July 14 – IT’S RAINING (INSIDE)
July 11 – BOY CAMP / GIRL CAMP
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
Circles
“Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake.” ~Wallace Stevens
In early hours, I open up my eyes,
get out of bed, toss on some clothes, and then
change my surroundings for one of sunrise.
I know later I will take up my pen
and try to word-paint hues of daybreak skies.
For now, I circle my lake, because when
I see small damp rings of reflections cast,
I find myself facing truth, at long last.
###
Nice RJ!
RJ… Thank you for this, for many reasons… !!
This picks up on Stevens, melodiously.
Oh, I envy that early morning walk
Very lovely poem, RJ.
I like this one very much.
LAKE IN LATE AFTERNOON
A diamond luster sparkles on the lake
Delighting campers congregating there.
Beneath its surface fish avoid the bait
Aware the hook and sinker bring despair
To perch unschooled in swimming from their wake.
How peaceful summer is late afternoon!
On gentle waters sits the hint of moon.
#
I think this is lovely, notably the last line.
I agree.
I love the double-meaning of “perch”
I see that diamond luster, Sal.
Sunrise Sanctification
Oh so early I wake up every day
Well before the sun awakens the sky
With blanket and Bible I slip away
From my cabin down to the lake nearby
It’s my quiet time to think, read and pray
Just me and my Lord, my soul sanctify
The sun rises on God’s beautiful lake
Just another reminder; God is great
© 2014 Earl Parsons
A peaceful picture, rendered peacefully.
For me, it was the ocean in front of my parents’ home. How beautiful.
Water Bound
Sitting along a rocky shore, gazing
at pure blue skies and fluffy cumulus
clouds drifting over the forest, blazing
across wind swept waters, the numerous
thoughts wind me tightly and find me praising
our connection to water, humorous
belly flops, hoses, lakes, summer antics
and the life giver – water semantics.
Wow; these are great rhymes. You should get an Espy (as in Willard) for them.
Yeah…what William just said! LOVE the rhymes!!!
I read “rocky shore,” think of my ocean floor and fearing belly flops into the cold water. . . .but these sound like wonderful memories!
Love that ending, Michelle.
Your poem takes a lovely pragmatic view of lakes!
Dust Devil Does its Deed
I watched the wind whirl up the hill,
then to the lake and friend’s kayak.
And whoosh! It hit my friend until
it turned and got me front to back.
At first, afraid we’d take a spill,
we laughed as I fished out my pack.
But other folks were unaware
of why we sat with mussed-up hair.
Ah, delicious!
hehe. Connie, I am enjoying seeing more of your poems
🙂
KEUKA
The lake is shimmering from shore to shore,
as though a dance of diamonds came to float,
and here and there I see a score or more
of mallards camped around an anchored boat,
looking much like kids at a candy store.
I gaze at this, and make a mental note:
no other vision I have ever seen
can match this sparkling blue amidst the green.
This scene is in the Finger Lakes, a group
of gouges in the glaciated land,
where hills, though far away, still grace and loop
the waters with a whispered wedding band,
and I have come here on my daily troop
to muted grandeur. Grateful, here I stand
and watch the wavelets as the sun proceeds
and diamonds wink at paltry human deeds.
copyright 2014, William Preston
I have to show this poem to one of the members of my writing group. My writer friend had a great aunt who had a place on Keuka. My friend’s work has been writing stories about that great aunt, and one special summer she spent up there with the lady. I think she’ll love this. (I know that I do!)
Thanks, and I’m glad for that bit of serendipity. My wife grew up on a farm on Seneca Lake and went to school in Penn Yan, hence she knows Lake Keuka well also. The countryside is utterly lovely, notably in autumn.
This poem placed me at the lovely scene you painted.
Our Ottava Rima are so accomplished, in beauty as in rhyme.
Skimming Stones
I found a smooth, round stone. I made it skim
right across the vast expanse of a pond.
I found another stone, and on a whim,
I skimmed it farther, to send it beyond
the horizon, or so it seemed. Pilgrim
pebbles on a quest…how else to respond?
Joy, watching the cool rippling in their wake.
What a perfect moment, down by the lake.
###
I love this; it captures how it felt when I did that, albeit I called it “skipping rocks.” The sounds of “skimming” and “rippling” work well here, I think; they carry the flavor of flight.
We call it ducks and drakes. If the water is smooth the pebbles skim, but if there is a breeze to make ripples, they skip.
Enjoyed it muchly
Meditate
Cradled by the mountain dew
Water floats in silver sounds
Strolling ripples pull my shoe
Send caresses through the ground
A haunting veil of misty blue
Just walks on wings, into the brown
Silver blue, I concentrate
I guess, that’s what is, ‘meditate’
The sounds here are almost mesmerizing, fitting for meditation, I think. I love this.
This makes me think of the Maroon Bells in Colorado. I love it.
Your tetrameters flow so much better than pentameter. This is a lovely poem.
I love the lakes of Maine (where grew up), which are natural, not man-made, and many of them with Indian names. This poem celebrates a joke about two of them.
Also, I also learned the pure pleasure of sound through the strange-sounding but musical names that roll off my tongue.
WINTHROP’S JOKE
The town of Winthrop, Maine boasts many things
Activities for all the whole year through
Of long, hot days at lakes upon a string
Cobboseecontee, Carlton, naming two
But most of all, their cooks compete to wring
The last, sweet taste of fish fixed in a stew
The lakes take part, but poor Maranacook
Must always lose to Annabessacook.
This is aurally delicious. Thanks.
Thanks, William. I had fun with the names, familiar to me but few others, that roll of my tongue in my memory.
I, too, grew up in Maine and loved the many lakes. I was baptized in Deering Lake, and it was even cold in August. My brother has a home on Scopan Lake west of Presque Isle. During high school, we would all go to a friend’s camp Carry Lake, and from my grandmother’s front window, there was a nice view of Nickerson lake.
This was a tongue-twister!
Just gorgeous!
I was baptized in Lake Maranacook in August as well. At the same time as my grandmother. A special memory. If I had the time, I would write about that lake event as well.
(Poem w/image: http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com)
Aides
I cried with weeping willow tree. Beneath
her teardrops, salty, we exchanged our “numb”
-ers tenderly. Our toes in water’s sheath
Protected gingerly, as we did plumb
Our depths to see, if we could bring relief
And learn to know how deep to go, Succumb
To forces never known, Enlist their aid
No questions asked. As such, our peace was made.
For some reason, this poem is bring back an old song, Deep Purple. I think it’s as lovely as that song.
Thank you, William, though I am not familiar with the song, it is an honor that you would think so.
Lakes are peaceful places. You have set the atmosphere beautifully.
Thank you, so much, Viv!!
A GOOD DAY
Upon the lake we drop our lines,
and in our boat we are afloat.
A bad day fishing is just fine,
I find I have no need to gloat.
A creel of fish and we can dine,
but not if we’ve an empty tote.
Yet still I find me in the mood,
the market has some nice seafood!
(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014
That last line changed the idyllic mood very well!
Well, I am glad to know that dinner is covered either way!
To me fishing is like watching paint dry or grass growing, but you have almost made me want to have another go! Just after WWII, when food was stillvery short, I used to have to fish every morning in the muddy upper reaches of the Thames at the bottom of our garden, which somewhat gave me a sickener for it!
Romance on Lake Granada
Our rowboat glides so silently across the lake,
whose water mirrors trees and plants along the edge.
We slowly drift and sip our drinks–a rowing break–
in which we doze and wake to see the sundown’s ledge.
An orange flame descends to pink, as icing on a cake.
Reluctantly, we head for shore with our solemn pledge,
to hold this day of perfect splendor in our hearts,
a memory that we can share if ever far apart.
Indeed…those lake memory-lovely hours treasured. Beautiful work, Sara. 🙂
Indeed so
Thanks, Hannah!
This is really lovely – rhyme, internal rhyme, and metre.
Thanks to William, and Viv. Meter is usually too structured for me, so I appreciate your comments.
[…] GRANADA CAMP FOR WAYWARD POETS – THE LAKE: OTTAVA RIMA (Form) […]
A Body like No Other
The lake so deep it speaks secrets in blue
calming, the water gently laps the shore
it soothes the soul and with its song it woos
and when you’ve left you’ll find that you want more.
It’s left a lake-shaped hole inside of you,
a space for all the treasured thoughts you store.
Sapphire and tinged tears taste like pure desire –
a heart that’s been forever set afire.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
There’s a free verse poem living at the post with this…it wouldn’t be quiet when I was trying to focus on the form so I let her go. 🙂
I agree. Unusually for me, I found the form stifling. Yours is excellent.
Mine appeared twice, because I tried to add to it but you can’t see all you’ve typed in the box, and I thought the heading had disappeared!
For me, this is a sensual poem that makes sense. The sounds are caresses. Lovely.
I’m late: writing this was, like drawing teeth, slow and painful!
Writing this was like drawing teeth: slow and painful.
Ottava Rima
A hatch of midges hovers in a cloud
above the Kielder Water at eventide.
Hungry for human blood they are avowed,
not to disperse until it is supplied.
Despite this hazard, hardy walkers crowd,
for the beauty of the lake can’t be denied.
As complex eco-systems demonstrate,
it’s nature’s way ever to compensate.
This made me smile, much. “Nature’s way to compemsate,” indeed!
See – this is the thing: it might’ve been like drawing teeth and all (for you) but reading your work, full of brilliant rhyme, is a sublime (no pun intended) pleasure (for me.)
I’m late: writing this was, like drawing teeth, slow and painful!
Ottava Rima
A hatch of midges hovers in a cloud
above the Kielder Water at eventide.
Hungry for human blood they are avowed,
not to disperse until it is supplied.
Despite this hazard, hardy walkers crowd,
for the beauty of the lake can’t be denied.
As complex eco-systems demonstrate,
it’s nature’s way ever to compensate.
[…] A hatch of midges hovers in a cloud above the Kielder Water at eventide. Hungry for human blood they are avowed, not to disperse until it is supplied. Despite this hazard, hardy walkers crowd, for the beauty of the lake can’t be denied. As complex eco-systems demonstrate, it’s nature’s way ever to compensate. The Granada Camp for Wayward Poets prompt yesterday was for an Ottava Rima about a lake. Normally I love writing formal poetry, but this one nearly had me beat – it took all day, off and on, a line at a time. You can find a description of the form and some stunning poems here. […]
[…] July 16 – THE LAKE : OTTAVA RIMA (FORM) […]
[…] July 16 – THE LAKE : OTTAVA RIMA (FORM) […]
I’m having trouble catching up but here’s my poem for this prompt. http://miskmask.wordpress.com/2014/07/18/campcide-tales-day-16-lakecide/
[…] July 16 – THE LAKE : OTTAVA RIMA (FORM) […]
[…] July 16 – THE LAKE : OTTAVA RIMA (FORM) […]
[…] July 16 – THE LAKE : OTTAVA RIMA (FORM) […]