EVENSONG
Bells beckon. We approach the portal of Wells Cathedral, umbrellas and cameras in hand, one dwindling September day. From the dimming façade, stone eyes of life-size kings, knights, and saints stare sternly down. They know we are interlopers here, American travelers sampling a bit of English history. Inside the massive twelfth-century cathedral, under lofty arches upheld by thick umbrella ribs, men and boys in white cassocks sing psalms and Old Testament stories, a choir of plaintive mourning doves and painted buntings in autumn twilight. We perch like treasures on embroidered cushions, on pews carved into separate thrones, seventy tainted souls for the choosing. Haloes of light from miniature lamps fall on our fingertips, tracing heirloom words that shimmer on thin parchment in The Book of Common Prayer. We bow our heads like orchids, faces washed with fading watercolor from the stained glass windows. Incense, tendrils of candle flames flutter, like clematis curling up an invisible lattice. Through sculpted quatrefoils, through prisms of jeweled glass, what remains of the day is simply the sinking sun, the violet haze, the vague sprinkle of stars, asterisks on pale indigo velvet. The choir’s faces glow as if holiness is singing rhapsodies through them. Their evensong ruffles my spellbound heart, a water lily trembling on a pond’s rippling surface.

Wells Cathedral, Wells, Somerset, England
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“POETRY” Invitation: I invite you to write a poem of any poetic form on your own blog about a particular travel destination. Or you can write about travel in general. Concentrate on any intention you set for your poetry.
In this case, I was enrolled in a poetry-writing class in Spring 2001, less than two years after we ventured to England for our first European trip. I believe this poem was from an assignment to experiment with run-on free verse. The rhythmic character in run-on free verse derives from strong run-on lines broken between the adjectives and nouns. The breaks are meant to force a slightly abnormal pause. This extra hesitation rhythmically evokes a tentative, uncertain feeling. The choice of where to break the lines is arbitrary.
You can either set your own poetic intentions, or use one of the prompts I’ve listed on this page: writing prompts: poetry (This page is a work in process). You can also include photos, of course.
Include the link in the comments below by Thursday, December 6 at 1:00 p.m. EST. When I write my post in response to this challenge on Friday, December 7, I’ll include your links in that post.
This will be an ongoing invitation, on the first Friday of each month. Feel free to jump in at any time. 🙂
I hope you’ll join in our community. I look forward to reading your posts!
the ~ wander.essence ~ community
I invite you all to settle in and read posts from our wandering community. I promise, you’ll be inspired! See below in the comments for any links.
Thanks to all of you who wrote poetic posts. 🙂
Some well-penned words, Cathy
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Thank you so much, Sue. 🙂
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I haven’t seen this kind of poem before, it is rather nice and you have written some wonderful descriptive phrases.
is one of my favourite parts.
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Thank you so much for your kind words, Jude. This poem was one of the first I ever wrote in one of my first poetry classes ever. I reworked it numerous times during class, based on workshops, but I still know it could be better. It was fun to write though. 🙂
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What an amazingly fertile imagination you have Cathy. This poem has some delightful phrases. I love how you start with a “dwindling September day “ and finish “trembling on the ponds rippling surface” . Pure delight to read
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Thank you so much, Pauline. This was one of my first forays into poetry before I dropped my attempts for 15 years!
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Your recent pieces show you still have that talent
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Thanks, Pauline, for your kind words. 🙂
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