New Poetic Style, New Poem

I have recently discovered a new poetic style, well, new to me anyway. I accidentally found it on a website, and have now written two poems in the style. The form is the Shandorma, and it is a short form, based on a particular syllable count – this one: 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables ie, three syllables in the first line, five in the second line, three in the third and fourth  lines,  and five in the sixth line. A Shandorma poem can be just that, a six line poem, or you can do two or more verses in the same style.

You may be wondering what this poetic discussion has to do with dogs and gardening, but there are a few different reasons why. The first is simply that the poem below is based on dogs and by inference, a garden. Also, I think this little form of poem is ideal fro those simple thoughts one might have, when outside in the garden. You can carry a little notebook and pencil in your pocket, ready to scribble any thought that may become a Shadorma!

So here is my Gardendog Shandorma Poem:



Wishful Thinking …


Birds outside,

dogs inside, waiting –

I open door,

they rush past,

are they hungry, or hopeful?

Back inside, dinner …


© Carolyn Cordon 2017


What do you think? I may write another one soon, about something I saw earlier today when I was out in the garden … It wasn’t enough to go on about too much, but it felt worth recording somehow. Ah, yes, I’ll write that poem now! and … Bang, it’s done  the first draft of the poem is below:


One Small Thing …


let it drown,

leave it to Nature

or step in

save bee’s life?

I decide, grass stalk ready –

bee holds, then flies off …


Sitting out the front, communing with Nature

napowrimo 13 pine pic

I had an extremely pleasant time, sitting on the seat on the front veranda. I always enjoy sitting out there. Nature comes along and visits, in many different ways. With Nature and my handy dandy phone thingo, poetry came along too, as I knew it would.
The birds and the trees, the wind and my thoughts come together and it’s all good!

Well maybe not ALL good, and there is a need for editing, but I’m sure there is at least one fine poem in amongst the many lines I wrote in this session. I’ll post the whole lot of it, and I welcome the thoughts of others on where editing may bring further beauty to the words.

I suspect there are several OK poems here, and perhaps at least one quite good one. Welcoming any feedback you could offer!

Wind plays with the chimes

and willie wagtail joins in,

cheeping and chirping in tune.

Wind through pine trees

gives a constant droning backdrop

and sparrows join in too,

repetitive chirps a constant reminder

they’re here too.

The occasional car is a different sound

intrusive but infrequent,

as are billowing clouds of dust

that threaten me as I sit here

on our front veranda,

senses switched on and tuned in,

experiencing everything.

The wind in my hair tickles and taunts,

blowing across my face

and into my eyes, nose and mouth,

reminding me of its length

as I think of times long gone,

when my hair was a glorious

childhood cloak of honour,

thick and golden honey-red.

Now my hair is falling out,

boring brown hairs disappearing

as the wind catches loose strands

and takes them out of sight,

but not out of mind.

Memory and mirror

hold truths for me,

separate but connected.

The past still remains

but life changes it, prunes away

even as it adds.

Memories take on different meanings,

insights reveal adult truths

or child-like ones, showing truth

in a new and textured way,

where meaning has many ways of being,

and all can be true.