555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

"A Spider's Eye's Views" (Entry 358)

Spider weaves her web. 
Day's work of intricate lace. 
To perch at its centre. 
Bull's eye of its endeavours. 

Stretched across the window. 
She could see the beings within. 
These giants scared her. 
She knew the dangers they held. 

They could destroy her home and her life
With a flick of their long upper leg.
She was anxious of these animals
With their to-ings and their weird busy-ness lives. 

Fancy them only having four legs and two eyes.
How on web did they ever manage?
As long as she could see them and they left her alone.
She was happy to watch these creatures, so ugly!

The more she viewed their habits. 
The more she came to love their strange ways.
Though from her webbed side of the window,
She could never understand what they did. 

Of an evening, they stared at a light in the corner,
Like moths to a flickering moon. 
By day, most never stopped moving,
How did they ever ever catch food?

Then her web quivered. A fly caught. 
To buzz and hum its distress. 
So along silken wires, Spider scurried.
Enough nature watching, back to work!

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