My tools of trade are easel, paint, and brush;
the arena for my work, a studio.
But once a year to mountain stream I rush,
and there take refuge in a bungalow.
At dawn, the sunrise calls, and off I go
to rest my eyes in sun’s pure spectrum bright;
I hike to waterfall, stick in a toe,
and allow the swells my songs to overwrite;
then hiking back, sleep soundly all the night.
Written for d’Verse Pubtalk: On the subject of Resting.
Copyright © 2019 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
Scansion:
Spenserian Stanza
Eight lines of iambic pentameter followed by a ninth line of iambic hexameter.
Usually in the last line, there is a caesura (pause) after the third syllable.
Rhyme scheme: ababbcbcc
This is not the waterfall that prompted the writing of this poem, but it is the only finished waterfall painting I have to date. 🙂 I tried doing a plein air painting of Rainbow Falls one year, which is the waterfall of which I wrote above, but it started raining while I was out there, so I had to pack up my gear rather quickly and take shelter with some campers on the mountain to keep my painting from being ruined. I have not yet gone back to it to finish it. Someday….


Oh I love the sound of a waterfall.. so restful
LikeLiked by 1 person
It sure is…
LikeLike
A lovely restful poem, Abigail, and a well-wrought Spenserian stanza.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Roland. I only wish it were true—that I actually could go to the mountains this year. 🙂 I will be driving through the mountains, but alas, will not have time to stop. Perhaps next year….
LikeLike