Autumn is a time of change. The skies are changeable, the days get shorter still, The foliage takes on the brilliant hues of a broad palette. The air takes on a chill. There are many inspired thoughts connected to Autumn. Here’s the twist.

Write down the following:

Something you buy in a bakery.
A smell in a diner.
A make of automobile.
Something people do to relieve stress.
An unusual musical instrument.
A child’s game.

Use all six in your poem. Start the poem with:

The smell of burning leaves…



The smell of burning leaves filled him,
like aromatic coffee on a brisk morning;
like the dawning of another new day
which comes on the flare of a flugle horn trill.
The exhilarating breath of Autumn
filters through the screen door
playing tag with his senses. No dodge
could free him from its touch..
Choosing to recline in his armchair,
he drifted back to sleep in peace.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2014


Listening to the world around us can yield some interesting bits of conversation. We used these as fodder for our poems this week. For our form, we revived the Nonet making use of the declining syllable count – a FALLing count to celebrate the first days of Autumn.

Barbara Young had strung her lines together to offer this untitled poem which earns the Bloom.

Untitled by Barbara Young

Like rain, a train is all trains.
Within my radius are tracks in use,
tracks halfway to disintegration;
south, west, east, northbound,
squat down, pick a bale of cotton.
Packing for a big move is always a pain.
What’s brilliant about French
health care is they pay pregnant women
to stay home. This week: what does
gender have to do with it.At night I listen
to the train. Come audition for The Voice.
The world is full of car insurance.

(C) Barbara Young, 2014

The word play of this piece flows in a gentle downward cascade and is indicative of our poet’s inimitable style. De Jackson earns the Bloom with “None, Yet”.

None, Yet. by De Jackson
(a nonet)

Can you feel our syllables fading,
a fall-fraying between the lines?
If time ticks us off so far,
can you imagine what
kind of star will stay,
shine-say what to
do when two
be, come

(C) De Jackson, 2014

Congratulations Barbara and De on your Blooms. Wonderful responses, from all our poets!



Since yesterday was the first FULL day of Autumn, we will FALL back on an old favorite form, the Nonet.

As you recall, a Nonet is a nine line poem, with the first line containing nine syllables, the next eight, so on until the last line has one syllable.

So allow your syllables to FALL and write a brilliantly hued poem in keeping with the spirit of the Autumnal Equinox!



It seems the year has been so fleeting,
and some moments bear repeating.
Soon, the foliage will change
rearranging this scene.
The air is cool, chill
right to the bone.
Home is where
the hearth

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014




To write this poem, the first thing you need to do is listen. Make note of the next five lines you hear from a friend, relative, co-worker, total stranger, from a song on the radio or a line by a television character. Incorporate these lines into your poem. Any subject, form or length.



I’m going to take a shower,
I have to work tonight,
do we have any bananas.
I’ll be home tomorrow.
What’s that noise? Is it her?
I though she left already!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014



Short and sweet:

Prompt # 166 – “ANIMALHOUSE”

Indecisiveness by Connie L Peters

Egg laying
young nursing,
furry but waterproof
Seems like it’s not quite sure what it wants to be.
Just like me.

(C) Connie L. Peters, 2014

I’m a sucker for platypus Poetry!


Always to Stay by Henrietta Choplin

Thru you
Meandering into
Thoughts of you…

Let us never forget

Remember to never forget!



Back in the seventies, Monti Rock III had assembled a group he called “Disco-Tex and the Sexolettes”. They were gaudy, pretentious, indeed everything you abhorred about the disco era.

Well, this week we’re doing Monti one better. The form featured today is the Septolet.

The Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break in between the two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create an image.



Slowly ascending.
Pretending to hide,
rays are revealing.

disarming, charming
new day.

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2014


We are always looking for ways to aggrandize our language and terms of expression. The use of adjectives colors our verbiage in a different way. Devices like similes and metaphors bring a varied point of view to how we see the world. Here is where your poetry finds its root this week. Using an animal or creature in nature as a metaphor for an emotion or an attribute (a tiger could be anger; a lion as courage…), write your poem.



Who knows? Who knows who?
Wide-eyed wisdom perched
in the mid-summer’s night.
Calling to see who would respond,
who would find answers to the questions.
Who? If you knew would you care,
would you dare question the what,
the why, the where? Who are you to challenge
the wisdom which took years to amass.
No tome bound in leather could contain
what weathered wisdom resides in feathers.
No matter how wise the owl, it can run afoul
of what we’ve learned; what we’ve earned.
Who? Who knows? Who knows who?

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014


The idea of a “bucket list”, a wish list of the things we’d like to accomplish in our lifetimes, brings our mortality into focus. But where as in the movie “The Bucket List”, the accomplishments read like a checklist, we asked you to pick one item to highlight. And even though I offered you a chance to spin it in a positive light, you had the option to be realistic about your ambition. Two such poems have garnered the designation for Brilliant Blooms. The emotion and subject matter of both poems mirrors each other. Millet Israeli and Paula Wanken, thank you for sharing these painfully beautiful poems.

MISSING CHAPTER by Millet Israeli

I painted your walls yellow,
like the sunflowers whose
heads hang heavy in the autumn.

In the back of the closet, I tucked
the suede shoes, pink and flowered,
and the socks with the lacy trim.

I brushed your hair, and
tied ribbons onto your braids
just like I had at your age.

We read books together, I’d
bring a stack at a time, but you
always asked for my favorite.

I taught you to love the sea, and
poetry, and how to fill yourself
by showing kindness to others.

You’d learn from watching me
so I made thoughtful choices,
but I was brave and bold.

One day you began to fade away,
you weren’t in my story, it
became harder to imagine.

I slowly let go of the little girl
I’d never have, and reluctantly
tossed out those pink suede shoes.

(C) Millet Israeli, 2014


DUSK by Paula Wanken
(a shadorma)

The sun sets
on my bucket list.
Plans unmet;
wishes, kissed
goodbye. Dreams of motherhood
passed by with a sigh.

P. Wanken

The form, Rondel, followed script as most French forms do, with the repeating lines and rhyme formats. But the twists presented made these pieces a bit more challenging. The poems have a lyrical quality to them, and in that tailor made for a troubadour. William Preston fills that role admirably to take this bloom.

TROUBADOUR by William Preston

I sing a song of ancient days,
when knights were bright and love was pure;
I sing of one whose sole allure
was beauty, manifest in ways

more numerous than sun-shone rays
that grace a vale as if on tour.
I sing a song of ancient days,
when knights were bright and love was pure

and lovers, lost in life’s great plays,
were wont to revel, swift and sure,
to confound primogeniture.
And so, with might that might amaze,
I sing a song of ancient days.

copyright 2014, William Preston

We honor Millet, Paula and William on their selections, and thank the rest of our fine poets for their great work.


The rondel is yet another short poetic form that evolved from the songs of medieval French troubadours, using repeated refrain lines to create a circular motion in the poem so that it wraps back around itself. The word “rondel” comes from the French for “little round,” and the French rondel is a fixed form of 13 lines, arranged in two quatrains and a quintet (or in the case of the 14-line rondel prime, two quatrains and a sestet). The first two lines of the first quatrain are the refrain, repeated as the last two lines of the second and third stanzas, and the whole poem uses only two rhymes, following ABba abAB abbaA. The capital letters are the refrains, or repeats.

This past Saturday I had attended our 40th Reunion of the Class of 1974 from my alma mater, Lackawanna High School. The response and celebration was wonderful, and seeing old friends and even meeting some classmates for the first time, forty years after we had graduated made for a memorable night. So, inspired by that milestone, here is my Rondel:


Forty years of memories held dear
as time had found a way to rocket by,
and classmates came to gather with a sigh,
amazed at how quickly that special day drew near.

Familiar faces framed in hues of grey and sere,
wistful eyes that squint to an azure sky,
forty years of memories held dear
as time had found a way to rocket by.

Reunited amidst the hugs and cheers,
friendships that had strengthened by-and-by;
these men and women bound in lifelong ties.
We’ll hold these moments long past leaving here.
Forty years of memories held dear.

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

JULY P.A.D. 2013-2014: THE FIRST E-CHAPBOOK – SIFTING SAND by Hannah Gosselin

Today we begin to highlight the wonderful work out poets put forth during our “Life is a Beach” (2013) and “Granada Camp For Wayward Poets” (2014) July P.A.D. excursions. If you recall, during the month of July we go “on vacation” and write a poem a day to related themed prompts. The first e-book presented is from Hannah Gosselin written to our “Life is a Beach” prompts the July before last.


The title of the book is “SIFTING SAND”.Click on the “cover” to be linked to Hannah’s blog where she had assembled this fine bit of poetics!