Monday, April 11, 2011

A Rose Lip (Shadorma)

Her rose lip,
caressing, searches
innermost.
His answer,
unsettled in morning light,
leaves her still dreaming.

© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas
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Today, One Stop Poetry is featuring the poetic form called Shadorma. Guest host Anne Welch explains the form and provides examples, using her own poems. The form comprises six lines with no set rhyme scheme, with the number of syllables per line as follows: 3-5-3-3-7-5.

Go here to read about the form and share your own contribution.

14 comments:

Maureen said...

Here's a variation:

Her rose lip,
caressing, searches
innermost
his answer.
Unsettled in morning light,
she's still left dreaming.

Louise said...

In a word, beautiful! : )

Reflections said...

Sensuous, tender... awesome piece.

Beachanny said...

I like the version you posted, creates room for dual interpretation. This way it's pretty sexy I think. Well written, either way, as always. Thank you, Maureen.

hedgewitch said...

The viewpoint definitely shifts a bit in the second. Both very well formed and well done, but agreeing with Gay, for some reason the first feels a bit more satisfying.

Maureen said...

Thank you for reading both versions. I'm leaning toward the first as my favored, I think because of the ambiguity allowing for more open interpretation, as Gay says, and also because it is more sensual, as I initially wanted it to be.

I like the form, and might try a series of related pieces.

S. Etole said...

Either way, they say a lot with few words.

nance marie said...

good

L.L. Barkat said...

Sweet and sexy. :)

signed...bkm said...

I like the version posted also...leaves more of a mystery for the heart to ponder...lovely...bkm

Helena said...

Sexy is the word...

♥ ஆ

Basque-Land said...

So lovely, kind of juicy somehow.

Stephen Page said...

Nice example of the form. Thanks for bringing this to other readers.

Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow said...

Hi, Maureen. I like what you have done with this form. It is nice to see the 'alternate' version and it makes me feel like the poem is toggling back and forth between different images / different meanings, like looking at one of those hologram art postcards that shimmer back and forth between two different paintings