The Versesmith

 dVerse: A Haunting  Choose any of the three paintings and compose a poem of 31 lines or fewer. What misfortunes do the artworks stir in you, the viewer? I chose Rain Woman , by Svetlana Telets.  What misfortunes does the artwork stir in me?  Reading the artist is from Ukraine, I think that should be obvious.   Svetlana Telets, Rain Woman (1996) I stand on the street corner, stunned. R ivulets of rain spill over the brim of my hat, run down my neck. Shall we be abandoned to yet another bleak winter? I am chilled. Allies have turned their backs. Yes, I am chilled, yet, I am not surprised.  ©2026 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

dVerse - MTB: Imagism in 5 The Cadralor Not a form I am familiar with, the Cadralor is an invented form named for its inventors, Lori Howe and Christopher Cadra.  * 5 numbered stanzas * choose 3-10 lines per stanza (but keep same chosen stanza length throughout) * each stanza stands alone as an imagist poem (just the obliquest of connections) * 5th stanza pulls the 4 unrelated stanzas together into a poem of love, of yearning * rhymes and syllabic meter are NOT wanted I I don’t go to the far back of my yard anymore. I t’s dead; the grass, onions, parsley, gone. I let it die; its prior beauty gone, now crunchy underfoot, II T he wind blew over the fence, such as it was. I left it there, nothing to fence in, or out, except the persistent raccoons that straddle the top boards at dawn . III G eese honk overhead on their way south, the stragglers louder as they strive to catch up to the lopsided Vs of their fellow migrants. IV Autumn leaves drift down, carpet ing...

 Poets and Storytellers United  Friday Writings #244 : If the Glass Slipper Fits For this week's optional prompt I'd like you to write something from the point of view of a fairy tale character. image Oma made me a coat of red wool. With a hood. She said it was for her “little Mäuschen.”  She called it a riding coat, yet I don't have a pony. I sure would like a pony though. Papa says “No, meine Schatzchen, no pony.” I tried to convince him my pastry deliveries would be ever so much quicker on ponyback, but no. It’s not fair. Papa says kinder always say things aren’t fair and to “ Live with it .” As for my coat? Oma doesn’t know me at all. I hate hoods. Wool makes me itch. And I don’t even like red. I hope I outgrow it soon.  ©2026   Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved

 Quadrille #255: X marks the spot Write a poem of exactly 44 words in response to the prompt. Your poem must contain the word xenolith . image source Here I a m, stuck. Stuck slap dab in the middle. Middle of this family. Family of proverbial mule- stubborn souls. Souls stuck in stone-set routine. R outine precise and rigid. Rigid, each tedious family dinner harder. H ard er than a mantle xenolith. Both near impossible to break. ©2026 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

 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  

 dVerse Poetics: But no, a butterfly   Merril tells us , "So, for today, I’ve composed a list of common butterfly names taken from several online sites. People seem to enjoy these list prompts. Choose at least three of the names from the list below and include them in your poem. You may choose to use more than three for your poem. Please use the entire name, that is use “Appalachian azure”, not just Appalachian or azure." I do enjoy the list prompts! photo credit   A clouded yellow sunset glow s on golden birdwing and autumn leaf . The painted lady reflects the setting sun.   ©2026   Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

 Poets and Storytellers United  Friday Writings #227  ...be inspired by one of the following quotes (or any quote) from The Princess Bride ... I chose two quotes, shown in italics. Detail of a postcard showing a Diamond Back Rattlesnake VENOM Why waste your venom on me ​? I'm much to o large to eat, too full of fat. ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹  ✹ ICE WARNING Not so very long ago, we kept our distance from those unmasked. Now, the world's been   flipped, tur ned upside down. Words to the wise in these unwise times, People in masks cannot be trusted. ©2026   Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved  

dVerse Poetics : Names of the Rose  Please choose at least FIVE rose names from the list below. Or choose  your own FIVE words or more from this huge list. If the rose name is more than one word, you must use both words.  There is one stipulation, you can NOT use the word, “rose” in your  poem! I chose the following words, which I have underlined in the poem: Restless Seafoam Tangles Golden Gate Windrush Summer Song Peace I’m restless . I walk the tideline on Baker Beach, kicking tangles of kelp and seafoam . The fog is heavy, nearly concealing the Golden Gate Bridge. A windrush gusts; my hair briefly covers my vision. I sit on the cliffs hidden from the commuters above. The sound of waves and gulls, my summer s ong. The damp fog and incoming tide, my peace . ©2026 Lisa Smith Nelson. All Rights Reserved