Incremental Poetry ~ 51 Lines

Rainy Day

Hurray! happy day
hear the scratching of pencil on the paper
and the rain pitter-patters

gurgling and whirring
slurping foam off a sip of cappuccino
and the rain pitter-patters

raindrops dancing on the canvas overhead
and the rain pitter-patters

tiny drops diving into the swimming pool
and the rain pitter-patters

chirping birds in trees
swooping down to snatch up a breakfast of worms
and the rain pitter-patters

one above the rest
calling “Ricky, Ricky, Ricky” all the day
and the rain pitter-patters

squirrels chitter-chatter
scampering playfully on trees and fences
and the rain pitter-patters

leaves enjoy the wash
bowing down to allow the trickle to fall
and the rain pitter-patters

sprinklers on timer
gurgle to life, then spray already wet grass
and the rain pitter-patters

flowers hang closed, hushed
awaiting the sun and the buzzing of bees
and the rain pitter-patters

chair scrapes on concrete
time to whip up a second cappuccino
and the rain pitter-patters

chimes let go a ring
soft song announcing a trifling gust of wind
and the rain pitter-patters

trees whisper welcome
to the breeze that blows and mumbles through the leaves
and the rain pitter-patters

tree branch scrapes the roof
thud-thump-thunk signals a squirrel lurching away
and the rain pitter-patters

from somewhere unseen
a gecko’s throaty screech calls to his lover
and the rain pitter-patters

tick-tock of the clock
an alarm rings, reminding me to move on
and the rain pitter-patters

Hurray! happy day
done, the scratching of pencil on the paper
and the rain pitter-patters

Copyright © 2019 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved

Welcome to my series, Incremental Poetry, where each week (or as often as I am able) the featured poem will be one line longer than the one I shared the week before. As the poems get longer, it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to keep up the weekly pace, especially when I have to search high and low for a form that employs the set number of lines. But I am nothing if not tenacious. (My husband calls it stubborn.) And so I will keep pressing on toward my goal of a 100-line poem, even if there are weeks of silence between my compositions. As always, thank you kindly for stopping by.

Meaning “catch” an Italian hunting song of the 14th and 15th centuries
usually carries a refrain at the end of the stanza
favors onomatopoeia, incomplete phrases, and exclamatory statements
stanzaic: any number of tercet stanzas
syllabic: 11-7-5, in any order, but consistently throughout the poem
rhyme at the discretion of the poet

For this one I used a 5-11-7 syllabic pattern with no rhyme.


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