Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Woods Are Full of Webs (Poems)



Photo © by Kelly Langner Sauer
Used With Permission


Woods Are Full of Webs

Woods are full
of webs, sticky shrouds
spun from leaf
to limb, threads
holding fast to a last breath
what blunders in silk.

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In gold orbs,
woods' camouflaged beds,
unlucky
insects trip
imperfect wheels of fortune.
Preyers' journeys end.

© 2011 Maureen E. Doallas

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These poems, in Shadorma form, are inspired by photographer Kelly Langner Sauer's beautiful image above (click to enlarge view.)

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I offer this poem for the One Shot Wednesday event at One Stop Poetry, which each week invites poets to read, share, and comment on each other's work. Be sure to visit the site late Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday for the many contributors' poems.

23 comments:

annell said...

Again you have selected a beautiful image and words!

S. Etole said...

This is stunning ...

stacey said...

lovely!

Kelly Sauer said...

"unlucky
insects trip
imperfect wheels of fortune"

really delightful!

Timoteo said...

Thanks for taking me into the woods with you!

Chris G. said...

A most unlucky trip indeed...and one they only make once. Beautiful scene capture.

mark said...

Great wordplay here. Truly enjoyed this.

Brian Miller said...

what webs we find ourselves in when we wander through our own woods...

Terresa said...

Maureen, you spin some wonderful words in this, including this:

"spun from leaf
to limb, threads
holding fast to a last breath
what blunders in silk"

The juxtaposition of blunder and silk -- I adore, that is, delight in thinking of something so wonderous (silk!), blundered.

Anthony Desmond said...

you've spun a beautiful web of words here...

Reflections said...

I find webs in those words as well, silk spun into such a stunning piece.

Pat Hatt said...

Yes the webs we weave
And the trails we leave
Providing all that we have spun
Enjoyed your read lots of fun

Emmanuel Ibok said...

Sad getting caught in a web. Well done with this creative piece.

Bless!

patricia said...

Hate it when its my nose that blunders in.

wolfsrosebud said...

My morning walk, through the woods, has mused the thoughts you've expressed. I wonder... am I the prey?

hedgewitch said...

You've managed the subtle feel of meter along with the precision of word choice and made it all sing together in this exacting but rewarding form, one of my favorites. An excellent play on words in the last line.

ayala said...

Lovely words!

Hannah Stephenson said...

Reverent and hushed...wonderful.

Louise Gallagher said...

You are so amazing!

Ruth said...

I look forward to the golden orbs in the meadow and will remember "imperfect wheels of fortune" — perfect image!

Jerry said...

I saw a golden strand of the preyers across the window of my car on my way to work yesterday. They are very busy laying their lines down. I hope very soon to take my children into the forest to enjoy the wonders of nature such as this.

Cheryl Snell said...

Intricate things in their fringed peripheries! We have hard lessons to learn from them.

Beachanny said...

Wonderful word play, carefully and precisely chosen as your words always are. The shadorma stanzas perfectly mirroring the excellent woodland image.