Driftwood Phoenix

driftwood swam

Laid
bare,
barren,
broken down,
but pieces form art.
Driftwood rises above its end
forming a bird of legend with magical power,
spinning ashes to art, renewing the forlorn and forgotten, even transcending.

Notes: This is a Fibonacci Poem (0r “fib” for short). Each succeeding line is equal in syllable length to the total syllables in the preceding two lines, or: one, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four, etc. I’ve written two other fibs, Star Fairy and Fairy Ball.

This poem will be my weekly Poetry Friday tiddly-wink of word play. Thanks Violet Nesdoly for hosting and posting that moving photo and poem about forest fires. My heart goes out to the people of Fort McMurray, Canada. And to the wildlife equally homeless. May everyone have a safe and magical weekend. Warmly, Brenda

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

December 6, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

69 Comments

Fairy Ball Fibonacci Poem

Shh!

Hide,

Fairies!

Hold fans high

Pretend we’re cabbage,

Think ornamental vegetable!

No more chorus line once music stops and fae-folk hide.

Slowly, as night dons its purple, starry cloak, the fae ball resumes, with pipe, fife and song.

Note: A Fibonacci Poem is one in which each succeeding line is equal in syllable length to the syllable length of the preceding two lines added together, or one, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four, etc.