NaPoWriMo2018 Day 2

The second challenge I received was:
Spring - heart awakening after dark days 

Which provoked a Haiku:

White evaporates

golden rays penetrations

bring forth spring's magic

Which mutated into a tanka:

White evaporates

golden rays penetrations

bring forth spring's magic

and the new seasons passion

cloaks darkness with verdant life.

Then I read http://www.napowrimo.net/ day 2 prompt "we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that plays with voice. For example, you might try writing a stanza that recounts something in the first-person, followed by a stanza recounting the same incident in the second-person, followed by a stanza that treats the incident from a third-person point of view" and this poured out:

My fingers brush the ice from earth and limbs,

I stir the sluggish sap within your core,

My presence makes the songbirds change their hymns;

I breathe the joy of life; and passions soar.

Your touch warms frozen clay to fertile loam.

You cause my sap to pulse with rapid growth

Then make each songbird praise its new built home.

You banish winters weariness and sloth.

The breath of spring melts winters icy hold;

It draws the rising sap to fresh sprung leaves.

At dawn the chorus chirps its anthem bold

And life rejoices in the spell it weaves.

NaPoWriMo2018 Day 1

I asked for challenges and here is the first I was given, to write a poem inspired by this picture: (thanks to Jenny Bromfield for the use of the picture.)

(

These lazy days that I can spend

Here with an undemanding friend

No need to judge or to pretend,

With love on which I can depend.

We've built this trust over the years

He's shared my laughter, seen my tears

And made me laugh despite my fears.

He keeps the secrets that he hears.

And when that time comes and we part

No-one will be as as true or smart

He's one of natures works of art

I'll carry always in my heart.

And thanks to insomnia I also did this from http://www.napowrimo.net/

Today’s prompt: I’d like to challenge you to write a poem in the form of a love letter . . . to an object.

Without you I can find no peace to rest,

My meditation lacks its focal point,

The once smooth flow of action out of joint,

My hands just twist and writhe, each move a jest;

I'm left bereft of function, can not form

The chains that once lay heavy in my hand;
Without your dart and flash at my command.

Where comes the comforter to keep me warm

Yet when I'm home and see you once again

My racing thoughts fall gently into place

And calmness spreads throughout my tortured brain

My hands resume a practised even pace;

Depression lifts, my black mood starts to wane,

I slip once more into a state of grace.

I wrote this piece a few years back and Nancy Bowen illustrated it for me.   See more of her work here:
https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/nancy-bowen.html