Emma A LA5 Poetry Unit

 

 

The Cold of Winter: A Tritina

 

A bitter wind,

blows through branches laden with snow,

under the pallid glow,

 

of the moon. Candles glow,

in a window, as the wind,

rushes by picking up small flurries of snow.

 

Icicles hang from a roof draped with snow.

The light from the fire in the hearth glows,

around a cozy room, safe from the cold of the wind,

 

outside. The wind is heavy with snow that sparkles and glows in the faint light from the moon.

 

 

Sunset Tritina

 

I watch as the sun,

slowly sinks below the horizon. The sky

fills with scarlet, as the day ends.

 

The ending,

of the sun,

and light in the sky.

 

The once clear blue sky,

now bleeds red and fades to purple at the end,

darkening without the presence of the sun.

 

This is the ending of the day, as the bright light of the sun is replaced by the ominous glow of moonlight and stars begin to twinkle in the evening sky.

 

 

Tritina of the Meadow

 

The meadow is overgrown with wild plants,

that glisten

with dew in the bright,

 

morning sunlight. Sprinklings of bright,

flowers grow along with weeds and other plants.

The small stream flows. The rocks glisten

 

and sparkle. A toad sits here; it’s moist skin glistening,

as it waits among the bright

fish for a careless insect to fly from the plants.

 

The memory of the meadow, with its plants and animals, blazes in my head and shines brighter than ever as I watch the glistening snow.

 

 

Sestina for an Ocean of Sand

 

Specks of seaweed dot the sand,

a little green among the gold,

against the blue of the waves

that are restrained by the tide,

and just beginning to pull,

away

 

from the shore. A cool wind blows from far away,

somewhere along that vast stretch of sand.

And it pulls

my hat off my head and carries it up toward the golden,

sun like the tide

sucks barnacles from the rocks and catches them in the waves.

 

I wade far out into the waves,

but they are starting to go away

as the tide,

recedes, leaving only sand

basking in the golden

sunlight. I feel the currents pull

 

me out. And my mind pulls

me out as well, wondering what is under the waves.

I notice the small golden,

seashells that hide among the rocks. Crabs scurry away

from me and bury themselves in the soft sand.

I see and wonder at the changes of the tide

 

that all the ocean seems to obey. The tide

that pulls

all fish out with it, except those caught within pools of water in the sand.

The waves,

have faded away,

and the remaining ocean is completely still, sparkling golden

 

in the sun that shines on the golden,

sand. I marvel at the beauty of the tide,

as the ocean drains away

before my eyes and it’s strong grasp as it pulls

the waves

in, leaving only a endless expanse of sand.

 

And before long the sand is gone, its golden,

radiance replaced by waves and ripples, free from the tide.

The currents pull is gentle, but I can feel it longing for an ocean of sand once more as it  

waits amongst the rocks and shells until the time when it can drag the sea away.