I was feeling a little stagnant so decided to join Local Gems' Two Futures poetry challenge. I had to write 15 poems in 7 days inspired by a daily prompt - one poem looking to a positive future, and the other a negative future.
Today's prompt was a hobby. I went totally blank. After a few minutes, however, a few ideas to explore presented themselves. I decided I would also add to this challenge by trying to make the poems rhyme, something I struggle with.
Below are my two creations. Great works of poetry? No. But I was given a challenge and I rose to the occasion, so I consider it a victory. They are very raw and unedited at this point, and were created from my imagination, not my personal life.
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| Photo by Gritt Zheng on Unsplash |
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The Old Sewing Machine
The old sewing machine bought
With great excitement and big dreams.
Sat idle - forlorn and lonely
In a pool of soft moonbeams.
Immersed in fond memories
Of dance projects long ago,
Confections of color and movement
Performers faces aglow.
When the seamstress retired
The plan was for a short pause.
Then renewed, a new direction.
No more need for applause.
But days turned to weeks,
And then months and then years.
A coating of dust grew,
No oil for the gears.
One day the forlorn machine
Was removed from its perch.
It was tucked in a box and
Donated to a church.
The seamstress had passed,
Dreams never realized.
And the old hopes of the machine
Were let go and revised.
Perched on a bazaar table,
One last opportunity to dance.
A new owner, a new life,
Fate only offering one chance.
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Only An Interlude
Years had gone since
Passion drove her to sew.
The fire of creativity
Had been dealt a death blow.
But one day the old machine
Beloved when brand new,
Was lit by a bright sunbeam
Her old desires came through.
Out tumbled raw fabrics
Purchased in hope long ago.
Inspirational drawings, old patterns,
Waves of artistry began to flow.
Idle for so long,
The machine first needed work.
Once oiled and adjusted
The seamstress started work on a skirt.
Then a jacket, then some pants,
Creating as the gears turned.
It was like a damn had burst,
The joy of sewing had returned
One stitch and then two,
Garment after garment complete.
Her deep yearning took over
The rest of life had a back seat.
One day a door opened
An opportunity to grow.
The spotlight was calling.
The world wanted a show.
Stress and worry returned
But the call was too strong.
She headed for the runway
Models tagging along.
The rhythm of the music
Matched the pulse of her heart.
Models strutted like peacocks
Fabric turned into art.
Thunderous applause followed
Bringing deep gratitude because,
Those moments empty of passion
Had been had been just a needed pause.
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