Last night at my writing group I was introduced to a Ghazal poem.
To be honest I wasn’t sure before I went if I would enjoy the evening, although I dabble with poetry some of our group are much more proficient poets.
However as I’ve not managed to make it to the group for a couple of months I thought it really was time to get my writing groove back and flex my sleepy imagination.
As we progressed through the session I began to enjoy fitting my rhymes into the structure and I was still playing around with words before bed and finally came up with this…
“Come with me,” he said. Let’s ramble in the garden.
He leads me on, our hands entangled in the garden.
“Let’s go this way,” and I follow, lost in wonder
“Mind the bluebells; please don’t trample,” in the garden.
Wildlife hidden, but “look a squirrel!”
And some pheasants startle, in the garden.
As the years go, as time passes
Plants will grow and weeds will strangle, in the garden.
Autumn, time of harvest
A reward of juicy brambles, in the garden.
But Sarah there are also leaves to sweep
Wintertime’s preamble, in the garden.
If you want to read another ghazal poem, here’s the Hip Hop Ghazal by Patricia Smith