Daytime brings forth March Flowers

Most months, I like to join in Rebecca of Flake Flamenco’s Poetry Challenge. I’m not much of a poet and don’t I know it? – but any chance to get the grey matter’s muscles toned has to be taken once you get to my advanced years.

This month, she’s asked us to write a Shadorma – a non-rhyming six line poem with a specific syllable count of  3/5/3/3/7/5. It’s alleged to have its origins in Spain, though not a soul can offer any evidence for this theory. No matter. We’ll have a go anyway. Rebecca’s asked us to focus on light and darkness. Light into darkness is the way the world is going just now, so I’m going from darkness to light.

Midwinter

days have gone at last.

Here is Spring.

Buds unfurl,

reach upwards to the sun’s rays

and lingering light.

This provides me with the perfect excuse to have a few springtime pictures of flowers doing just that – stretching their petals upwards and eagerly towards the sun. It’s probably a bit late for you to join Rebecca this month with your own poems – closing day is today. But she’ll be challenging us again next month – and if you join in, she’ll translate your poem into Spanish. This is why I do this: she translates all our words into pure poetry. I love it.

Author: margaret21

I'm retired and living in North Yorkshire, where I walk as often as I can, write, volunteer, and travel as often as I can.

41 thoughts on “Daytime brings forth March Flowers”

  1. Bring it on, spring!! That yellow flower is called “winterling” in German which I always found unfair. However, I checked, it’s winter aconite in English and I almost wrote: winter acolyte which makes the German name somehow alright 😄

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    1. I’m so fond of aconites – they are indeed harbingers of spring – even quicker off the mark than snowdrops. But whereas snowdrops linger still, the aconites are gone. Winter flowers indeed.

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  2. Well done, but not quite a shadorma, your last line is three syllables, not 5…. I’ going to have a go myself soon, 7 years since I last wrote a poem. Thanks for kicking my muse!

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  3. I can’t wait for the light to finally linger again, but I guess, up here in Scotland we have to wait for that just a little bit longer… I like what you did with the light/darkness shadorma. From Midwinter to spring, oh, I can’t wait for those buds to unfurl. My daffodils are still firmly shut. I stare at them every day, and they, stubbornly, refuse to open up. Can’t blame them…

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  4. Love the poem. (Rebecca’s challenge is very tempting.) I like it just as it is but I can also see how just 3 syllables on that final line would work too. Clever people who work these things out.

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  6. I like it, Margaret. I’m certainly not a poetry writer and hadn’t heard of this format. Just looked it up and it is probably of Spanish origin – so the translation is even more appropriate.
    I might even have a go next month as I like the translation idea

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    1. I don’t know if Rebecca knows how very special it is to have someone take your words and, whilst remaining true to the original, make something new from them. Yes, do have go.

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  8. Not much sign of spring today in A-V. Has been nice but now it’s cold and wet, again. However in E Sussex the mimosa we bought here some years ago is flowering, growing and looking amazing

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    1. Oh dear! So you’re having your late winter and skiing break? I love mimosa, and it so much reminds me of southern France. I don’t believe I’ve ever knowingly seen it in the UK. Hope you’re both OK.

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  9. Winter Aconites are so pretty with their lovely ruff of greenery surrounding the yellow flower. And usually first out of the traps, even before snowdrops. Lesser celandine I have to say is best suited to the verges. I thought I’d got the better of mine, but a recent crocus photo revealed some that escaped me and my fork. Nice poem BTW 👌

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    1. Thanks Jude. Aconites seem to decide to disappear virtually overnight when they’ve had enough, don’t they? Quite disconcerting. I know what you mean about celandines when they get into the garden. But I still like them.

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  10. Ahh… spring. Your poem made me smile, Margaret. These flowers are so beautifully captured.
    We don’t have aconites here. Thanks for introduce to me. 🙂

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  11. What a glorious burst of Spring, Margaret! I love the aconites too. Who are these people who go around counting syllables and devising obscure rules for poems? No matter- it reads well. Good to have a little light in the darkness.

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  14. The aconites work so well with your poem. Shadorma is new to me. I like the finished simplicity which veils the skill and effort involved in production to a tight brief. Bit like a Haiku.

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  15. Pingback: Fake Flamenco March 2022 Poetry Challenge – Fake Flamenco

  17. What a brilliant poem – and those syllables per line give it a wonderful rhythm. The poem and the lovely photos of the spring flowers do bring us a sense of hopefulness and light that are much need right now. Thanks!

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