The term Octave means any eight line poetry form of which there are many.
Most of these are discussed in their specific Octave form site in the Octave Poetry section. What has
been ignored is the octaves with couplets, blank verse, free form, and unusual rhyming patterns, and
The poem below whilst neither rhyming, nor blank verse shows a disciplined use of meter:
Octave Challenge Replies
What makes a person special someone asked me,
Is it good looks, wealth, both, or something more?
I pondered on this question carefully,
And there was one thing of which I was sure.
It matters precious little what you possess
If that does not include a caring heart
For without that you're just a shell, or less,
For that's the place where living, loving start.
back to list
Come my love, enfold me in thy, loving arms,
Hold me to thy heart, and let it beat, with mine
Experience the magic, that is placed deep within,
Treasuring moments, we both may share,
A gentle kiss, the tenderness of love`s blessing
Entwined in the warmth, of desirous passions,
Oblivious to the eyes, of the World around us,
Let the blessing of love, remain in our dreams.
Forever to cherish, thrills of endearment
Like butterflies, fluttering softly, of wings,
Breathless, rhythmic movements, gentle sighs,
Strong feelings, that should never be denied,
Come my love, enfold me in thy loving arms,
Experience the magic, placed deep within,
Oblivious to the eyes of a world around us,
Let the blessing of love, remain in our dreams.
I wish I was a pole dancer
To slide up and down a pole,
I`d be as sexy as can be
And tease all hungry souls.
I would look cute in a thong
And topless maybe great,
To make men shout for more
And entrap them with my bait.
Oh I wish I was a lap dancer
And dance away the blues,
To do a jig on their laps in
Winkle picker stilletto shoes.
If only I was a belly Dancer
I`d wobble and shimmy all night.
With a jewel inside my navel,
And be a turkish delight.
I would love to be a stripper
If I was once again young,
I would be their cutie pie,
If my body was better hung.
But I have floated in the clouds
Had much too many wishes,
Now I`m back to earth again,
I`d better go wash the dishes.
House For Sale
The wind and rain battered the moors,
A house stood empty and old
Nobody lived there, for many a year,
It stood there bleak, and cold;
A sign that swayed to and fro,
Creaked in the wind, by the gate
It had read `House For Sale`
Dated eighteen hundred and eight.
No one dared to visit this house
As a haunting took place inside,
A lady in white was said to walk
Clad in wedding attire as a bride;
Years gone by, a handsome Lord
Wed, a comely lady renowned,
This was to be their dwelling place
A home with six acres of ground.
Tragedy struck on their wedding night,
Their beautiful home all aglow
Caught fire from a tallow candle
In the drawing room down below;
`Twas the lady that sadly perished
On that cold and windy night,
Her man, tried in vain, to save her
But alas he had lost the fight.
Years gone by, the house rebuilt,
A ghost in search for her groom,
Very sad, with tear filled eyes,
She still haunts all of the rooms.
Still, she`s calling out his name,
Thro` prevailing wind and hail,
As she harkens, all she hears is
The creaky sign of `House For Sale`.
Mother Of Nature
Clothes she wore, were ragged and torn,
Bare footed, for shoes were not worn,
Weather beaten, now lined with time,
Braved the seasons, `til past her prime,
The sky was her roof, high overhead,
Leaves from trees, made a warm bed,
Berries, and herbs, she ate for food
By streams, she drank when she could.
Her friends were the beasts, and birds,
To them only, she had spoken her words,
Never complaining, wealth she had none.
None but the stars, the moon, and the sun,
Time gave her wisdom, the woods she knew,
Her days now are numbered, all but a few,
She has contentment, spending each day,
Enjoying her life, in her own special way.
Primeval Tree Of England
Oh ye primeval tree of England, gnarled with age,
Shedding, once more the leaves of autumns page,
Age old myths, within rings of your ancient tome,
Returning Autumns neutrients to woodlands loam
Ye who have thrived thro`seasonal days of yore,
Ne`er a century past, when cast the fruit you bore
Wisened branches, weaving outwards to embrace
Remembering youth, once natures form of grace.
For thou hath felt the chills of winters snow,
And faced the floods when rain doth overflow,
So deeply grooved the bark around your girth
While grasping fibrous roots within the earth,
Yet still thy brightened leaves start to fall
Whenever this seasonal Autumn begins to call
Oh ye primeval tree of England, gnarled with age,
Shredding, once more the leaves of Autumns page.
Sweet Autumn Fantasy
Images of love, she smiles in a field of gold,
Summer past, autumn winds begin to play,
Dreams of ecstasy, wrinkled leaves unfold.
Pleasures of the heart, are hers this day,
A new dawn, is her lover, senses awaken,
She lay down, in an amber, and russet bed,
Where divine fruits, of autumn are shaken.
Chestnuts, now strewn, where they tread.
Sweet innocence of youth, in all her glory
Feeling the folds of nature, take it`s part
Deeply she, who yearns this seasonal story,
Treasuring precious moments in her heart,
Gathering all the beauty, and inspiration
Holding it forever there, in a painted mind
Yielding now, within her own temptation,
Composed in autumn`s fantasy, resigned.
I shall but tell a strange old tale
Because it`s most certainly true,
An ugly witch, lived in the woods
We kids named her, Witchity Poo,
She was indeed, a most ugly witch
With warts, on a long hooked nose,
And evil was much, too tame a word
For when we saw her, we all froze
Witches trials were drawing near
To us all, it was called Halloween,
But they were not all about fun,
Kids, had to hide from the scene.
We too heard tales, of evil things
Taking place in a clearing near by,
Witches performed magical rites
And Witchity Poo took the prize.
Our mother said, we must stay clear
Of woods, in the months of the fall,
For Witchity Poo will surely revenge,
Casting her magical spells on us all.
We did sneak out, on Halloween night
But we stayed away, from the clearing,
And high in the sky. I`m sure we spied
Witchity, on her broomstick, sneering.
back to list
It seems to be my new favourite place
I watch the swans gathering to leave.
I thought all swans were the same,
Then I remembered where I was, the USA.
Nothing is the same especially the climate
And the swans must fly south to survive
Because all too soon there will be a storm
And then there will be no food to live.
I remember six months ago in another place
Watching swans swim around so regally
Ignoring winters onset, there would be no snow
No lack of food, no need for her to fly away.
She still took on a thicker coat for warmth
Because where she lives it still gets cold,
But in a few months all will have changed
And again we'll see beauty to behold.
Colours from my toybox
It's something I did when I was alone,
Cognisant now but not repentant
I did nothing I was ashamed of
Scratching in the book with my crayons
Drawing aeroplanes and nudes,
I was too young then to fall in love,
And everyone seemed taller
And heavier than me.
My parents would leave me in charge
But I didn't go to bed when I said I would
In spite of the promises made
Perhaps by that time I'd seen too much of life
And overheard too many conversations
Even then realising the hypocrisy of adults
My innocence becoming a pose,
My crayons releasing my feelings.
Silence was a pretty thing,
My many coloured crayons my expression,
The only noise as my feelings were birthed
On cartridge paper solid enough
To hold my expressions, my feelings,
My cowardice or was it wisdom
Provided the cunning to hide masterpieces
Distractions to earn admiration and parental kudos
Would you like to join me in my memory?
Throw away that biased newspaper your reading
Its all controlled by Murdoch and wealth,
Seldom if ever containing the truth now
And instead of watching ABC News,
We can watch the world go by and draw it all
I'll give you one of my crayons if you like,
But not the dark red it's my favourite.
Let me tell you about the way I feel
About you and how I'm missing you
Silence in a room once filled by laughter
Looking out the window misted with our love
You are not there and still the windows mist
Then I realise that the mist is in my eyes
Salty tears reminding me of days and nights
Spent laughing and happily fogging windows
I know reading this your windows will mist also
My eyes are already wet fogging in your absence
The time will go slowly, each minute an hour
Slowing even more as the time together nears
And when we meet again the time will fly to fast
So fast that each hour will pass like a minute
As if to make up for the time lost whilst apart
And once again look out through foggy windows
Guilty As Charged
How often do we punish the one we love?
Words said in heat, more poison than a snake
Pouring out pure venom from our mouths.
And with the morning our conscience shakes
Wishing that we could pull back every word
To repair the scars and fix the heartbreak.
But our loved one says, "don't be absurd"
"I forgive", yet in her voice you hear the pain
Only in death is a body perfect
No more wrinkles do we detect?
No more corruption of the flesh
With the sod the corpse will mesh
No need of a mirror to inspect
The tomb has become my crèche
Sod and body now blend together
Combined now shall live forever.
Think on this you mortals that we are born
Into a world we do not know or remember
We enter as babes unknowing, daily learning.
Wanting to know, wanting this and that
Wanting to know why, wanting to be older
Each year realising more, we know everything
And know is the answer to all that is said
But when asked who did that reply, "I dunno".
We marry without knowing what it's all about
We choose someone we think we love
And our groins ache to prove that love
We become parents learning as we go
Amateurs trying to do better than our parents
Then finding ourselves saying "Mum said that"
And our mistakes growing daily bigger
Seeking our knowledge, rejecting wisdom
As time moves on the children move away
Silence and new habits have to be learnt
And what do we know of retirement?
All our experience is worthless, goodbye
The cheque may be big, the hole is bigger.
Finally, once again, we are like children
Finding our way, learning new things
Until it is time for the final lesson.
New England Thoughts
A cooling breath steals life from the leaves
And the leaves lose their lustrous greens
Taking on a Kaleidoscope of vivid colours
From pale yellow to rich gold or a deep red.
This mellow scene attracts so many visitors
In reality they're seeing the death of a year
And nature creating the nakedness of winter
Where stark blacks contrast with white snow.
It leaves me feeling unprepared, I'm an alien
I'm a stranger with different experiences
More prepared to view this as a time of sleep
Where chilly short days need long sleeves.
I know that winter eves are spent by fires
Believing in a short time warmth will follow.
Our burnt out forests look dark and sallow
But come spring will be green once again.
October 11 2009
Now I've driven south as far as I need go
And must say farewell to all my friends
Some old, some new, who I'm glad to know
Some moved on following their own path
To others I had to say; "It's time to go now,"
Knowing my promise to return is true
And fate willing will be able to share part
Of my path in life with them next year.
We shared so much these last few weeks
And time flashed by as is her crazy way
We saw the colours change along our road
Where the green of life changed to other hues
Bringing the end of one life to promise of new
And so it will be with us, parting is not death
It is the birth or rebirth of life and love
With the promise of new dreams for the future.
There's nothing tonight except music and wine
You are a million miles away or so it seems
So far, that it's hard to think of you as mine
Or remember how we realised our dreams.
Should I change the music to better the mood,
Or perhaps a simple Chardonnay would be fine?
In reality the only thing that would do me good
Would be to feel your lips once more on mine.
The Basic Rules
I have found Nature's power, can you feel it?
It creates the loudest thunderstorm in my heart,
Whilst in my mind there resides soothing rain
And I have found ultimate peace within my soul.
There's no secret, no need to commit or submit
'cept there is a need, an urgency, of when to start.
Respect nature, and all beings, show no distain
You'll find that living like this makes you whole.
See as we walk the way the shadows hold hands
The sun creates black images out of golden bands
The way they blend and merge as we wander
Making them more real than us we wonder.
Look, see how they unite, the way they blend
And having joined cannot be pulled asunder
This absence of body, is this what reality means
Is reality the truth, and all composed in dreams?
Zero Birds on Route 44
The rain has ceased with the start of morn
Now I can't see the Cape because of mist.
For just a while the whole world seems still
Even more because of my Australian mind.
I miss the sound and flight of birds.
There is ample green, and trees abound,
Tis only fall; surely they cannot all have flown
. Not even the humble sparrow graces the scene.
back to list
A crystal palace is hanging in the sky,
Leaves of trees below, silvered by Full moons light.
All are as nothing compared to where you are.
Where you are, being no small mistake,
Small mistakes are what happen in life
And in life there are no grand designs for us,
For we are all made of stardust
The stardust shining above endless clouds.
Scarlet letters fall from ethereal trees
Whose arms hold the escritoire of a heart,
Burnished, beating, blazing for a word from thee
For thou art the aire in her branches
Breezing through the tiniest twig of thought,
Thinking now that Falls Queen has met her King,
A Prince among the oaks set in snow starred fields
As the Meadow Lark sings in the lea where loves leaves have fallen.
With fractured steps and frozen souls
Those who venture to go out in the night
Are not what they seem at noons day light
For day is not the realm of certain fright.
So the black eyed friend you thought you knew
Became the monster mad from loves first bite
And once he had you, you then wished for flight But ever onward marched the years between, the Halloweens.
back to list