Prompted by Poet's Place Cafe

It’s Cold Out There Form of Week Golden Shovel

It’s Cold Out There

The frigid winter nights, comforting to some
conjure dreams of home and other things.
I watch as weather changes, varied are
impediments to travel, rain, snow, and never
warm even when the sky is clear.
                   ~~ Judi Van Gorder

Notes: ▼

Voice Ways by Robert Frost

Some things are never clear.
But the weather is clear tonight,
Thanks to a clearing rainl
The mountains are brought up near,
Your sweet-cynical strain
Would come in like your here:
"So we won't say, nothing is clear."

Two new forms, Golden Shovel within a Ronka. 😎

Golden Shovel = Use the words from a line of poetry in sequence as the end words of your poem.

Ronka = A pentastich of 7 word lines, unrhymed and referring to a season.

"Form of the week: Golden Shovel"