Here we sow the seeds of our own birth
That will erupt from fertile ground with tendrils
Stretching towards the nourishing rays
Of the sun around which we revolve
Moving as a child at play making us chase
Across blue skies its arching course
A quadrille (poem of 44 words) with the word seed in response to a d’Verse prompt.
Copyright © 2021 TJS Sherman All rights reserved.
Musing & Creating with T.J.S. Sherman 
I like the use of “tendrils” and the image of tendrils stretching.
LikeLike
Thank you! I started with a darker tone using seeds of our destruction, but I liked the imagery so it stayed in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely imagery! ✨
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Wonderful Quadrille,, well written!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Rob!
LikeLike
Beautiful imagery. Tendril is such a lovely, tender word.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I appreciate it Merril
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀
LikeLike
Very lovely. It made me feel peaceful.
LikeLike
High praise for the poet, when the poem makes the reader feel something.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is a lovely innocence in your poem that I love …..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for that Helen.
LikeLike
I see the seeds in my pots… just waiting to be planted.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Better get after them!
LikeLike
“Seeds of our own birth,” is such wonderfully philosophical image! I really loved this! 💝
LikeLiked by 1 person
I always appreciate when my readers hit on a different level of my writing. Thank you!
LikeLike
Impressive how quickly and creatively you adapted to a newly-invented form! It’s amazing how effectively the “golden cage” (Blake) of form supports creativity. Thank you for liking “Of Poets” at DK’s Poems. You might notice how that poem moves in and out (mostly out) of iambickish pentametroid–speaking of the negotiation with form.
LikeLiked by 1 person