Writer's Workshop, 01-16-2009

Still, I haven't remembered any of my dreams lately. I find that disturbing. Oh well, it's time for Mama Kat's writer's workshop again. The prompt below seems like a really interesting idea, so I'll try it. The line is from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The poetic style seems to be in six syllables per line which makes me think he Coleridge was writing in the Alexandrine style (6 syllables per 2 lines) but it doesnt match it exactly. Eh, I'll just run with it. :) Ok, so I went with 6 and 7 syllable lines - in no particular order.

Choose a poem you like. Take the last line and use it as the first line of your own poem.

He rose the morrow morn,
Still within the fatigue,
The journey pushed his limits,
As he crossed the many leagues.

Cleaning up the bedroll,
And after the breakfast meal,
The tent now packed away,
He begins the new ordeal.

No time to entertain,
The aches of a body tired,
The journey must continue,
Tempered by inner fire.

Like a leaf aloft and free,
He travels as fate guides,
His companion is the Sun,
And his house the endless sky.

Scanning the timeless horizon,
His destination unfolds,
The centuries to wander,
Still searching for his soul.