Sonnet for drought

day 14 of my 100 day project

I’ve been reading more Substack posts since I am being more strict with social media for lent. One of the poems I wrote this week for my 100 Days of Poetic Forms was specifically inspired by a few specific essays, so I am going to share them here in the hopes that you, too will find inspiration.

Photo by Ochir-Erdene Oyunmedeg on Unsplash

1. This essay by

   Robert Charboneau
   that discusses the merits of meter in poetry.

2. This friendly rebuttal of the above essay by

   Olivia Marstall

3. The Clayjar Review
   posted this essay by
   Allison Moore Giles
   that contains a delightful prompt for nature poetry.

Now, I’m a learn-by-doing type of person, so of course the first two essays made me want to write some metered poems— to see whose argument I liked better, of course. I didn’t want the added burden of rhyme, so I wrote a kind of sonnet in blank verse. I have to admit, iambic pentameter reads like chocolate tastes. But I already knew that. I do think that meter is essential to the craft of poetry, as in, you should be able to wield it if the poem calls for it. The essays are fun and educational regardless of your opinion on the matter.

In the third essay, I was inspired by the devotional prompt:

“I first write from my own observations in nature, focusing on whatever catches my attention. Then, I wait for the tables to turn, for God to remind me of His truth in and through my observations, as I respond in worship and declaration of His praise.”

A sonnet traditionally contains a “volta” or a “turn” towards the end, so it seemed like a good form to try with this prompt. And with the conversations about meter bouncing around in my head—voila! Day 14— a sonnet in blank verse. I think it’s fun to read aloud:

Sonnet for drought

A blade of grass waves softly in the wind
So stretches does the green up toward the sun
And perseveres against the wind and rain
In weather bleak or mild stays the same.
So soft, its gentle green remains, while bugs
Along its body climb, and rabbits’ teeth
Flash white and fierce beside it, for too long
The summer has progressed, and now the grass
Bleeds yellow on the lawn. Unhappy plant
Who grew this far out of the ground to find
Itself without the tenderness of life.
Now hardened there at summer’s peak, it waits.

Am I the blade of grass that longs to grow?
My body on the barren soil, my heart
Afraid and yellow in a lonely drought?
If so, then you, Oh Lord, are clouds of rain.

---

Publishing news:

My poem “I Am the Valley of Dry Bones” was a runner-up in Vita Poetica’s 5th anniversary print issue. It is officially available to order! If you are interested in purchasing a copy, you can do so here.