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2009 Poetry Theme Challenges

#12 Onomatopoeia




The term onomatopoeia (onu-matu-peeuh) is using words that imitate the sound they denote.
For example:
Buzzing bees
The wires were humming with electricity
The cricket chirruped in the long grass

The challenge this time is to write a poem using onomatopoeia on the theme of nature.

Running Water by Lee Emmett

Water plops into pond
splish-splash downhill
warbling magpies in tree
trilling, melodic thrill.

Whoosh, passing breeze
flags flutter and flap
frog croaks, bird whistles
babbling bubbles from tap

Inspirations


Happy quilling

Jem
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Onomatopoeia
Challenge Replies



Divena Collins

Beauty Becomes You
Softly They Whisper
Storm

Lorraine Dafney

In Rains Chambers

Jem Farmer

Onomatopoeia
Rustling Leaves
Voices Whisper

Ryter Roethicle

Dichotomy
Kindred Spirits
Rain
Un Sogno

Nia Wynne

Colorless Summer

John Willowdown

Dreams of the Rain
Flameforest
On a Matted Pier



Divena Collins

Beauty Becomes You



To savour your sweet perfumes
those velvet petals sublime,
always there in summertime
most exquisitely tinted blooms.

An enchanting beauty to see
a friend in june, ever appears
bearing dawns dew drop tears,
and profusion of sweet potpourri.

-----

Softly They Whisper



Softly they whisper sweet love,
as they lay in each other arms
revealing, endearing, charms
`neath the moon, and stars above.

Kisses like wine, they bestow,
on bodies, with sensual touch
true lovers, treasure so much,
as they let their feelings go.

To rest on a bed of feathers
feeling rapturous love sublime,
both lost in each other, and time.
wrapped in their dreams together.

Softly they whisper sweet love,
the moon, and the stars disappear,
as the dew sheds a gentle tear,
from the mist, of a cloud above.

-----

Storm



As thunder rolled thro`clouds
lightening flashed in the sky,
seagulls flying low did cry,
and mist had formed a shroud.

Torrential rain washes roads
sheets of water drowning all.
rainbow haze, afloat with oil
formed on puddles, hues explode.

Sirens sounding through the night
danger ahead as storm advances,
car windscreen, raindrops dances,
moon now hidden, away from sight.

It never really rains but pours,
Car is stuck in quick sand mire,
with broken lamp, one flat tyre,
lost, remote, four locked doors.

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Lorraine Dafney

In Rains Chambers

Raindrops tap on my roof
making gutters rattle
as birds chirp out their songs,
sharp notes pierce rains battle



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Jem Farmer

Onomatopoeia

Sound words
crash bang wallop
as words shout from the page
and hush for golden poetry --
silence.

-----

Rustling Leaves

A cascade splashes mountain pool
while rowan trees reveal the shade
and rustling leaves of thought invade
the summer's air begins to cool.

When searing days and sultry nights
so make the way of autumn's gold
another year is growing old
are you the one still in my sights?

Those times when life sets us apart
I wonder is it you that would
in autumn's mist, I know you could
unveil the love inside my heart.

-----

Rustling Leaves



I set a leaf to float on river's flow
to carry love from distant heart to you,
and sat upon the bank I watched it go,
as denim jeans are washed with morning dew
. Adrift on waters ebb beneath the trees
the voice of weeping willow whispers dreams
they tell my heart's desire upon the breeze
on slumber's pillows love is all it seems.
My leaf of love that dallies on the tide,
a jig amid the beams of lunar light,
the trails of shadowed hearts softly collide
and tell the message sent from me tonight.
My sweetest rose my heart is holding fast,
until the day the final die is cast.

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Ryter Roethical

Dichotomy



Because of fate we must live apart
Life has decreed it must be this way
We seize each moment, each new day
Knowing now what is in our hearts.

Tempering souls whilst separate
With other souls we stop and play
Life has decreed it must be this way
Wondering what's on the muses chart

Drawing strength, learning the art
Wondering if will we meet someday
Carefully stating what we convey
Love is a play, you and I have a part.

-----

Kindred Spirit Nights



Warm summer nights and heavenly sounds
It is our gift from nature, without speech
Wishy washy sounds from the sandy beach
The rippling as o'er the stones the sea rounds.

The birds lie there noisily asleep in their nests
Like humans some snore when they are asleep
And as they breathe we hear a soft cheep, cheep.
Like humans hold their love close to their breast.

The moon like any lady is silent as she rises
Smiling at the noisy earth whispers, "Hello".
Listening to hoots and noises far below,
And whatever happens with no surprises.

-----

Rain

Lying, listening to the rain drops fall
Drip, drip, drip, the rain drops fall

A warm sensuous mood pervades all
Drip, drip, drip, the rain drops fall

Feelings moving, inhibitions gone
Drip, drip, drip, the rain drops fall

With loves sweet juices we toast each other
Drip, drip, drip, the rain drops fall

You smile, your eyes light up in thrall
Drip, drip, drip, the rain drops fall

What we have created is no delusion
Drip, drip, drip, the rain drops fall

-----

Un Sogno (A Dream)



It is the last month of winter, but already I have
A desire for humming trees, and buzzing bees.
The buds of spring will be long gone by then:
But I'll feel the warmth of the evening breeze
And for three months, I'll be natures willing slave.

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Nia Wynne

Colorless Summer

A splash of color would be nice
Since this hueless life sings
Of cyan blue bells, now tolling,
Tripping along a road of vice.

A black flower in colorless
Summer vesture thuds against time,
Grey leaves whisper under shoes grime
To remind us not to think less

But do more than drip with long sighs,
Shush the children and screech our tires
In protest. Instead, make fires
Roar and fireworks pop too high!



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John Willowdown

Dreams of the Rain

Dreams of the rain
the flutterings of angels wings
drown out the ten thousand voices of the world
and enfold me in your silence.
Peace, peace lift me up and cover me
on the high plateau of crystalline truth
all the little fictions of the world fade away
for a sort while at least, I am free.
Silence, silence of the unencumbered heart
island of calm in an ocean of lies
close my eyes and ears to the gaudy phantasmagoria
the banal dramas, the shallow shadowplays of word and noise.
Dreams of rain
the fluttering of angels wings
drown out the ten thousand voices of the world
and enfold me in your silence
for a little while at least...

-----

Flameforest

Within the flameforest
salamanders weave their golden spells,
nets of words to catch unwary travellers,
bequile them for a little while
with their tales of wonder,
legends of the true and sacred fire
nurtured in the World's old depths.

Creations of great antiquity,
guardians of lore and mythology,
they only wish to share their knowledge
- but cognisant of Man's timid nature
> must perforce resort to magick,
elder craft of woven fire,
to bind men in a trance awhile,
hoping that once their fear pales
as freedom is restored,
something of awe and beauty will still remain,
footprints of gold in the autumn woods,
leaves of flame drifting down within the mind,
luminous residues of another space and time
leaving filigree traceries of a faerie-kind.

Children of the flameforest,
I hear the gentle crackling sound
that is your mischievous laughter
and don't know whether to embrace you or flee.
I make the sign of the Devil's horns
and speak a furtive prayer to Hastur,
looking back across my shoulder
to the gently burning woods.

-----

On a Matted Pier

On a matted pier fronded with ferns and splashed with spray
I felt a little queer but that was no surprise
- it was Saturday and I was having one off my turns.
Cormarants and termagants
wheeled and whooshed amidst the waves
and on the shore a brass band blew
and called to me to join the saved.
But the lure of the waves was too strong
and breathing in a noseful of the putrid
but not unpleasant pong
I plunged into the bristling brine.
Aeiii, oueiii, chatter, chatter, chitter,
the spare set of teeth in my pocket shivered
and tried to shout a warning
whilst my spare glass eye tried to catch my gaze:
my left leg had become entangled with a capstan
and I swung above the waterline
felling like the Holy Divine
from a soggy Tarot deck
that is to say, I was quite wet
but not yet fully immersed.
I must have hung there several hours
listening to the guffawing birds
trying to make out any sensible adjectives or verbs
from their cawing and clucking and swearing,
all the time hoping my struggles were wearing
the sailors knot that that held me...
Eventually a blind old fisherman came and freed me
and I stumbled back to my caravan
half way up the beach from Towyn.

On a matted pier
I will no longer venture
despite my love of whooshing words
and flimsily attired big-chested girls
- my upside-down experience
was not one I wish to repeat:
I still have rope-burns on my feet.
Furthermore, when I attempted
to jot it down in words
in wasn't really onomatopeic at all
and at this point I'm afraid it stalls...

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