The Versesmith

dVerse - Poetry Form: Discort   The writing challenge is to write a descort. "The descort differentiates itself from other forms by differentiating its lines from other lines within the poem. That is, the main rule of descort poems is that each line needs to be different from every other line in the poem. An undeniable twist from the norm ."   source One summer long ago, my family went to Crater Lake. Nothing to see. I may have well stayed home. I saw only fog. But on a bright-blue-sky sunny day? Prettier than a postcard. Only a day trip away from me now, I never go. ©2026   Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

 Poets and Storytellers United  Friday Writings #241: Change Your optional prompt this week is to tell us about change, whatever it calls to mind for you just now.  Or serve us up something you’ve previously written on the subject. ©2026Lisa Smith Nelson The geese sense the change. Still August, yet they take flight. Bleak winter ahead? ©2026 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

 dVerse: Compounding the Stem So for today’s prompt we are turning our attention to compound words and... a prompt... that is the Compound Word Verse...  a poetry from invented by Margaret R. Smith. 15 lines 5 stanzas 3 lines per stanza rhyme scheme a,a,b meter 8/8/3 last line of each stanza includes a compound word using the same stem the poem’s title includes the stem word appearing in the east tonight reflectin g through the trees its light the moonrise luminous in the flower bed towering over roses red moonflowers in my hand held up to her beam I sense a calmness, as a dream my moonstone the glow and play of light within remind me of the light akin to moonglow later on, through curtains of lace celestial light that shines from space a moonbeam ©2026 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved   In Roman Mythology moonstones were believed to be the tears of the goddess Diana, who was the personification of the moo...

  dVerse Prosery :  Luminous Accountings   The Prosery Challenge: Your prose—fiction or nonfiction—may be no more than 144 words. You must use the given line, and you may not alter the words, change the word order, or insert words into the line. However, you may change the punctuation.  The line is from King of the River , by Stanley Kunitz . . . and the iridescent image swims through a mirror that flows .” Stanley Kunitz (The Atlantic, 1970) Rogue River, OR © Lisa Smith Nelson 2026 Try as I might, I can’t seem to hold on to my memories.  They move, sliding away through my fingers, quicksilver between moments, leaving me with nothing.  No, not nothing.  Worse than nothing.  Nothing would be painless. They leave, not reflections, but vague images, faded photographs, faces silvered with age.  Yet I do remember there were once memories.  That’s what stings.  I promised never to forget.  Even your face is fading, hazy, wavering...

 dVerse Poetics:  Have You Ever Seen the Rain? Prompt from Li(sa) : Your challenge for today, if you choose to accept it, is to choose... your way with the weather. Use it as a framework. Or a metaphor. Or as a vehicle to get you where your muse wants to go. Any form or length is fine. I would love to see someone take a favorite weather song and pay tribute to its lyrics or melody. Please put attribution on your page if you choose that path. I’m very much looking forward to reading your poems. Going with the suggestion of taking a weather song, I have taken two.  One is mostly fiction, one is mostly fact. A Golden Shovel using a line from  November Rain by Guns N' Roses. And it's hard to hold a candle in the cold November rain A Golden Shovel is an invented form, created by Terrance Hayes.  It is written by taking a line or lines from an existing poem and using each word as end words in your poem. The words are kept in order.  Credit is always given....

Poets and Storytellers United Friday Writings #239: Down to the Bone Wordle #768 Prompt words for The Sunday Whirl in red.  Coincidentally, Friday Writings this week has a bone prompt too! 🦴 In desolate temples of the underworld , spiral steps of bone weave dee p… deep… deeper into the pit . Sparks dance, fireflies of the abyss, reflected in the dark current of Cocytus . Choose. Follow the voices . Follow the screams . Or, turn. A scend the steps of bone while you still can. ©2026   Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved