Festivals and Path

Line 1 is a short phrase or image. Line 2 is another short phrase or image using the same first word as line 1. Lines 3 and 4 start with the same word used as the last word of line 2. Then, lines 5 and 6 use the last word of line 4. This pattern is followed until line 48. Line 49 uses the last word in 48. Line 50 begins with the last word in line 47. The title is three words long. The title format is the first word of line 3, a preposition or conjunction, and the first word of 47. You can’t use any punctuation. Luckily, these poems don’t need to rhyme. This poetic adventure will either be a lot of fun or leave me frustrated. I almost made it, but I came down with COVID. This poem I will call Festivals and Path. It’s the first piece of writing I did for almost a month.

Festivals and Path

Maple Leaf Crème Cookies

Maple Syrup free fall festivals

Festivals doting the Indiana countryside

Festivals with Blue Grass music

Music played with pride

Music erupting in the crisp air

Air-filled with a sweet fragrance

Air light and breezy

Breezy with leaves falling from trees

Breezy with a hint of a new romance

Romance to warm the long winter nights

Romance to quake a cold heart

Heart and soul of summer passing away

Heart that beats in expectation of a new day

Day of sunshine to warm the cold

Day of courage to stand bold

Bold in the promise of the potential of change

Bold beyond the passage of time

Time that waits for no one

Time you can never retrieve

Retrieve once the minutes are spent

Retrieve and recklessly repent

Repent of the seconds squandered

Repent of the dreams left buried

Buried and burned like cast off leaves

Buried in shallow graves awaiting resurrection

Resurrection because they never died

Resurrection to take on a new life

Life beyond the fallacy of perfection

Life pointed in a new direction

Direction divided by a road that’s twisted

Direction forged in the curves of a dream

Dream that led you down a tangled path

Dream of words dancing in your head

Head of a poet searching for words

Head of a woman clinging to creativity

Creativity as fragile as the falling leaves

Creativity as elusive as wisdom

Wisdom that is so hard to find

Wisdom to know the right path to travel

Travel to the end of the twisty road

Travel until there is no other way to go

Go until you can’t walk anymore

Go until you know it’s the end of the path

Path littered with fall leaves up to your knee

Path where you know you are blessed and free

Free

Knee

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

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Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

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