A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course).
Thank you, Allan Charles. I've contested the Charlie Chaplin thing a couple of times, won once, if I remember correctly. But it's the kind of thing I try when bored and have nothing better to do - just doesn't seem to have happened lately.
As the day unfolds,
an unravelling bud in the morning light
and the diamond dew sparks the spider’s web,
the world turns to meet the risen sun
and the summer smiles supreme.
There, ‘neath the laden branch,
leafy, dark and shadowed,
where the night hides cool in the soil,
the ants go feverish in their task,
secret manoeuvres underground.
Out on the lawn where the heat settles,
heavy and baking the desiccated grass,
and time holding its breath
while the noon rides high overhead,
so spends the day in sloth.
And evening draws on reluctant,
loth to release its hold on the world,
stealing the hour with fading light
far into the hush of tomorrow,
and thus unfolds the day.
Line count: 20
Free verse
For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 2 2024
Prompt: As the day unfolds.
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