Lost or Found? - Writing.Com
A poetry contest entry.
Read it and let me know what you think of it.
It's a form poem and the syllable count is 1/2/3/4/10
Form name: Tetractys
Write!
Must do.
To not do,
Is to lose heart.
So you better know, my heart will always be found!
Lost or Found?
by Stve Cope
02-05-2012
Showing posts with label contest entrant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contest entrant. Show all posts
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Barrell Roll
The pilot deftly twisted the plane sideways.
His control of the maneuver is fascinating in many ways.
Every moment in the air, in this vintage plane,
Brings moments that cause me to exhale in wonder.
One moment the ground is before us, so close to the shore
Of the lake we are flying over and the next there once more
We appear motionless, in mid air, I cannot stop the trembling
Anticipation of what I know will be coming next the rolling!
The sky twisting and turning,
The heart fluttering and stomach churning.
The exhilaration of it all at the same time
And then the gentle, relaxing after roll climb.
The pilot, skilled and able to handle every situation
Suddenly finds that an error has been made, confusion!
The noises that surrounded us moments ago
Silenced and motionless just before the roll and plummeting we go.
No yielding to the commands of the pilot,
The plane is now no more than a bullet trembling
As speed is gained and the water below grows to a larger spot.
Ejected and feeling so dejected, we float safely into the water boiling.
The plane is now in the throes of the crash and strewn all about.
We two once enjoying the sights are now drenched, debris lilting slowly down.
The scene in a way is so serene.
Until at last I awaken to the pain that was perpetrated by the barrel roll gone awry.
Undaunted by the tragedy of that day
Let me to each of you say.
"If at first you are thrown from the sky
Just get up again into the blue wild and again fly!"
Winner! Second Place in Stormy's Poetry Contest in the WDC.
www.writing.com/authors/copenator
His control of the maneuver is fascinating in many ways.
Every moment in the air, in this vintage plane,
Brings moments that cause me to exhale in wonder.
One moment the ground is before us, so close to the shore
Of the lake we are flying over and the next there once more
We appear motionless, in mid air, I cannot stop the trembling
Anticipation of what I know will be coming next the rolling!
The sky twisting and turning,
The heart fluttering and stomach churning.
The exhilaration of it all at the same time
And then the gentle, relaxing after roll climb.
The pilot, skilled and able to handle every situation
Suddenly finds that an error has been made, confusion!
The noises that surrounded us moments ago
Silenced and motionless just before the roll and plummeting we go.
No yielding to the commands of the pilot,
The plane is now no more than a bullet trembling
As speed is gained and the water below grows to a larger spot.
Ejected and feeling so dejected, we float safely into the water boiling.
The plane is now in the throes of the crash and strewn all about.
We two once enjoying the sights are now drenched, debris lilting slowly down.
The scene in a way is so serene.
Until at last I awaken to the pain that was perpetrated by the barrel roll gone awry.
Undaunted by the tragedy of that day
Let me to each of you say.
"If at first you are thrown from the sky
Just get up again into the blue wild and again fly!"
Winner! Second Place in Stormy's Poetry Contest in the WDC.
www.writing.com/authors/copenator
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