Ovi Poetry Challenge 45: SEASON is your inspiration.

Ronovan Ovi Challenge, , , , ,

Who doesn’t like a little season? Well that’s one way to look at it. In the south we have seasons, and they are a bit more enjoyable, probably, than other parts of the country. We get the snow, but not the blizzards and rarely where it accumulates higher than a car door. Okay, so I’ve never seen that here. We get ice. Snow, the sun comes out, melts it, and overnight that snow turns into ice. Oh joy. I also like seasoning my food, another big time southern thing. The more the better. But really when I came up with SEASON it was about the seasons of life we all go through. I’m not certain which one I’m in but it sure gets cold a lot.

OVI POETRY

Ovi is a syllabic/metre poetry form. In this case, Ovi is from India, originating in the Marathi language. The Ovi  has been in use in written form since the 13th Century, but the women’s ovee/ovi predates the literary form by at least the 12th Century.

The Ovi are in general, lyrical folk songs expressing love, social irony, and heroic events. They are written in the following scheme.

4 line stanzas, as few as one stanza and up to as many as you like.

8 syllables or less per line

Rhyming is AAAb. The second stanza would be CCCd. The third, EEEf. And so on. Meaning nothing in one stanza must rhyme with anything in the previous stanza. The fourth line does not rhyme.

Example:

Roly Poly by Judi Van Gorder

The big toothed tot with golden hair
picked up a bug on Sister’s dare,
it rolled into a ball right there
and won her springtime heart.

Notice the rhyming pattern is AAAb or
A
A
A
b

My Attempt

Blue flowers continue to grow,
with the shadow’s making them glow,
giving life to darkness and woe,
dying each year to yet return.

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12 thoughts on “Ovi Poetry Challenge 45: SEASON is your inspiration.”

  1. Seasons Undone

    Rain drifts in, spring sun, a short stay

    as normal, nature has her way,

    and we, we are thankful today

    for yesterday and tomorrow.

    The seasons of war continue,

    atrocities abound, the view

    from a mass grave ― adismal hue ―

    one more sorrow upon sorrow.

     I do not write poems lightly,

    nor seek my narrative nightly.

    I face each new dawn, write tightly,

    stalk language of lucidity.

    I know affectedness abounds,

    my artificial rhyming sounds,

    watered down, moulding coffee grounds,

    nomadic poetic compost.

    Still, as each season comes undone,

    as its heir nears the starting gun,

    poets, prophets, gape at the sun

    and blindly wonder what awaits.

    http://www.engleson.ca

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  10. Seasoning of food is a very important part of our cooking 🙂 Thank you for this prompt.

    Seasons follow each other
    They invariably usher
    Big and small changes that trigger
    Variations in our daily life.

    As we leave behind childhood
    We must in all likelihood
    Learn what is to be understood
    About the seasons of life.

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