Tag Archives: prose poetry

Prose Poetry: I went on a Walk Today

 

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I went on a walk today to enjoy the sunshine’s beautiful rays. Although it is only March it seemed like early May. That was the Lord’s good kindness I have no doubt to bless us with his radiant love. So for heartfelt joy I wanted to shout. As the time did allow, I meandered and walked along the road where the grass was too brown I noted with a furrowed frown. But then I remember this is only early March, I need to be patient in letting Spring have its start. Therefore, now no need to be downcast or feel dismay because as surely as the loving Lord lives, the warmer season of Spring is on the way. And so gracious and generous is our Lord God that he chose to let us have a peak at the warm weather that lies ahead.  Why, not so long ago, I sat shrouded in blankets enduring the wintry cold. Now I push the sleeves up my arms allowing the sun to wrap them with its warming glow. Contentedly I plod along the road not really following where the sidewalk goes.  I do that sometimes, just making up my own path and journeying where no one else has.  My life is sometimes like that too; where others might travel along Route One, I might choose to explore Route Two.  I like to be different and not the same as everyone I see. God has given you and me each a gift of life and individuality. Therefore as we wander through life’s pathways and arrive at a journey altering crossroad, you may choose one way while I select another way to go.  And as surely, I can see the lemon tinted orb shine so radiantly, I know that the Lord is always with me, guiding me with love and ever so tenderly.  For he does deeply know me and understands my shyness, you see. For though I smile and seem so sociably, deep inside something is hindering me. He knows when I hurt too much and cannot take too much more. He lets me hide in his quiet love; he is my strong, protecting shield like the locked and secured front door. So as twilight now descends and this blessed day sweetly ends, it is only God through his Son Jesus who gives me courage to endure and try again. Therefore, tomorrow when dawns a brand new day filled with unknown blessings along life’s way, I will venture along a new winding pathway to discover rekindled hope inside of the Lord’s never ending grace.

Poetry 201 Assignment 7: Fingers, Prose Poetry, and Assonance

 

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Continuing in my poetry class, I was asked to write a piece of prose poetry in which the poem looks like prose but can you see the poetry within? It includes the subject of fingers and a technique known as assonance in which a repeating vowel sound is used. Can you determine what repeating vowel sound I used throughout this poem?  I hope you enjoy reading it.

Fingers on the Keyboard

Fingers floating and sliding along the plastic keys as I tried to remember the last melody. When was it that I struck a key followed by another and another? I plucked C, B, G, E, and sometimes D. Such a mystery as the last time keeps escaping me. When did I last take a seat with content upon a piano bench and played a tune with such gentle sweet ease? However now, I no longer have my grandmother’s piano, you see. Instead I have this electronic keyboard for simple melodies and that seemed just right for me.  Such a lifetime ago it was when my fingers danced gingerly and with subtle familiarity caressing and pressing those musical keys. Oh those sweet notes, the ebony and the ivory playing alternately and creating a sweet sounding melody.  When struck together they resonate in pleasing and lingering harmony. Although admittedly when oft my unpracticed fingers did glide over the black and white keys one may hear unmistakable disharmony. Many memories reside in me playing but constantly dismaying at the clash of keys in off-tuned melodies. I am not as talented as I would like to be to play this fine musical instrument; this assortment of black and white vibrating keys. Melody and harmony are too much for me and their mastery has too often eluded me.  So my fingers became still and my keyboard became silent; as quiet as can be. It serves now only as a tangible memory of my younger days when I would strive so determinedly to play a simple and sweet melody.