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Wrinkled Sea

a misty, foggy, rocky ocean shore with trees off to the left in the distance
on Flickr

Daily Note

Every day, a photograph, a poem.

This poem is written for the Daily Create [ #clmooc #ds106 @ds106dc   #tdc3887 ] where we are asked to write a Golden Shovel Poem– that includes as the last word in each line, a word, in order, from a line from a favorite poem.

So one of my favorite poems is The Eagle, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, a famous and public domain poem. I carry it with me on Poem In Your Pocket Day each April.

The Eagle

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

Alfred Lord Tennyson – 1809-1892 Public Domain
Listen on Wikipedia
Italics, mine

Each line is a masterpiece, and today I chose a line to match a picture: “The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls.” Each of those words, in order, must end a line of poem that I write.

Continuing a theme on this blog — global warming and climate change, I found a picture I’d taken in 2019 of the misty, gentle ocean shore on the Puget Sound coast of Washington State. NASA tracks the sea levels as this misty day reminded me of the slowly and not so slowly rise of the sea as the earth’s ice mass melts due to the warming of the earth. And right now we struggle with understanding the changes on the earth under which we must forge new paths for survival, as we did so long ago when out of the sea our ancestors crawled. And so, again, we learn to stand as we crawl from beneath this new struggle for humanity.

I bolded the words from The Eagle: “The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls,” each word the last word in order in each line of my poem.

The Wrinkled Sea Beneath Him Crawls

Grey the day when sky o’er the
earth turned mist where waves wrinkled
wrapping shore and beach with sea
as if in this time to place us beneath
its blanket of heavy so every her and him
remember it’s time to stand when, again, each crawls.

Sheri Edwards
090422 249.365.22
Poetry/Photography

And add to that struggle– Will we do this — survive– together, free, or under the heavy and often brutal mantle of authoritarianism?

With law our land shall rise, but it will perish with lawlessness.

—Njal’s Saga, c. 1280
Chapter One The Road to Unfreedom by Timothy Snyder

1284 days of posts in a row

UPDATE: A Few More #clmooc Golden Shovel Poems, delightful remixes from the “found in books” Daily Create.

Kevin’s Golden Shovel Poem– a remix of words and image from Dance Your Heart Out.

Sarah’s Poetry

Heather’s Poetry

Thanks to everyone who added more lovely poetry to the world. 🙂

Sheri Edwards View All

Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts/Media Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker~~
Art from the Heart

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