Melting Rime

(I thought I'd try all three forms. I cheated a little with the first one using thing ending in -tion, could be worse , I could have done -ing. It is a Mono-rhyme. The second is a duo rhyme. I think I even kept to some meter as well as rhyme. I messed up the third one. It is supposed to be a Diatelle. I had written out the rhyme scheme (a-b-b-c-b-c-c-a-c-c-b-c-b-b-a)on a blank sheet of paper. I came back later and followed it. Just as I finished it I remembered it was supposed to have an increasing/decreasing sylable count each line. FYI: the last poem is a true story about a kick-off meet for Regina participants in NaNoWriMo in Nov.)

Due to the Double Negative, Satisfaction is Mine 

When I was young I just wanted a little action.

I would do crazy things to get some reaction.

Always moving forward to keep some traction.

Growing pains are a necessary contraction.

Life collects it's dues, that's the transaction.

Failure turned to fear becomes inaction.

Pride slides away like decimal and fraction.

The surplus I lost in painful subtraction.

Words flung like arrows have no retraction.

In the mirror my soul looks like a Picasso abstraction.

A poetry group was a welcome distraction.

I took great comfort in human interaction.

I was surprised by sweet ginger attraction.

Finally found the key to unlock satisfaction.

Keen Plight

In season's change, that time between

Fantastical things can be seen.

It all comes to a head one night.

At first you see an eerie sight.

The thing you know now gives a fright.

Strange beasts all want to take a bite.

In fear you see no way to fight.

Until with steed and sword a knight

There leads angels all clad in white.

From pool to pool you walk in light.

With chills and thrills we love the scene.

It's all a part of Halloween.

Nano Rhyme, Yo 

Like wrights in a mill, words are tools I wield as I write.

I've written many a poem, but never a book.

A gathering of novice novellers? I'll take a look.

That's who my wife was going to meet.

No crowd, just a handful in the far back nook.

At least the restaurant will have food to eat.

The fuel of art is drink, bread, and meat.

Fellowship is a time honoured creative ceremonial rite.

Beside two shy high school girls we take a seat.

In the face of reticence I will not admit defeat.

Pushing and a lot of questions is what it took;

Although I'm sure they left thinking me offbeat.

The group reeled me and set the hook.

I've swallowed the bait like a trout in a brook.

A month of poems and now a book? My head may not be right.