A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the years following, from August 2024 to August 2025, 2025 to 2026 (provided I live that long, of course).
Thank you, Charles 🐾. I've contested the Charlie Chaplin thing a couple of times, won once, if I remember correctly. But it's the kind of thing I try when bored and have nothing better to do - just doesn't seem to have happened lately.
The wood between the worlds,
where silence reigns becalmed in shade
while dreams are like the ferns unfurled
and stillness cloaks pools in every glade.
Just one thing moves in all that hush,
a guinea pig with ribbon tied a yellow ring,
thus memory returns with childhood rush,
magician’s test to this place brings.
Each somnolent pool beneath the trees
is gateway to a different place,
to terrible Charn of mortal disease,
or new world waking in light and grace.
The wood between the worlds,
a magical land accessible only through
a book, its secret is curled
in Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew.
Line count: 16
Rhymed abab
For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 52
Prompt: Use The Place in Between as your title.
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