The weather was dull, he wasn’t alone.
He took her hand off her glove,
Caressing it, he let out a groan.
He gifted her roses, expressing his love.
She looked pretty in her white silk gown.
He knelt down, slumped, cursing the one above.
The black roses wept when the coffin came down.
*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #15
*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: “to write a poem in terza rima. This form was invented by Dante, and used in The Divine Comedy. It consists of three-line stanzas, with a “chained” rhyme scheme. The first stanza is ABA, the second is BCB, the third is CDC, and so on. No particular meter is necessary, but English poets have tended to default to iambic pentameter (iambic pentameter is like the Microsoft Windows of English poetry). One common way of ending a terza rima poem is with a single line standing on its own, rhyming with the middle line of the preceding three-line stanza.”
*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won’t be disappointed.
http://janakinagaraj.com/ – Janaki
http://jaibalarao.com/ – Jaibala
http://advkaranshah.blogspot.in/ – Karan
http://whilethecoffeebrews.blogspot.in/ – Naina
http://eccentriccontemplations.wordpress.com/ – Nithya
http://viewsofpreethib.wordpress.com/ – Preeti
http://www.rinzurajan.blogspot.in/ – Rinzu
http://ponderingtwo.blogspot.in/ – Rohan
http://juztamom.blogspot.in/ – Sfurti
http://artofleo.wordpress.com/blog/ – Vinay