Elements of earth, water, fire, wind/air and spirit (inner/outer energy, mindfulness) was the inspiration of the recent poetry challenge held on October 2024 of our ILA Facebook Group. Poets were to choose one element and write about it. Below, are the poems we chose to feature.
"THE WIND"
I'd be the wind, ready to lead the way
Where the elements of nature glide:
Fires burn, spirits rise, and waters sway.
You can tag along to see what lies outside;
Wild ocean waves frothing on the beach,
Nothing Arcadian in my restless reach.
Some days I would be that fierce wind
Carousing shamelessly, dancing to tunes.
I would sloom, caressing your mind,
Or rage unconsolably like typhoons -
Grabbing anything that isn't nailed down;
Febrile, and pulsing through each town.
I'd be a whirlwind of intricate memories;
Years and seasons dutifully swept away,
The remnants of a hurricane, Rapt stories of soon forgotten moments on display.
You'll know I have visited when you see
Autumn trees stripped clean of leaf and fruit.
I'd be that Eldritch feeling, looming over
A world asleep, awaiting morning's light.
A gust of Studious atmosphere that hover,
Blowing through the campus all night.
I'd be beneath your wings, make you soar
High above fate's mysterious shore.
© Liberty Bassey
"THE ELDRITCH BREATH" (Villanelle)
Through febrile nights it slips unseen,
An Arcadian hush disturbed by sound,
While sloom drifts thick through woods of green.
Studious shadows trace a sheen
Of trembling leaves on spectral ground;
Through febrile nights it slips unseen.
In rapt embrace of worlds between, An eerie murmur wraps around,
While sloom drifts thick through woods of green.
Eldritch whispers wind, serene,
With ancient songs in haunted round;
Through febrile nights it slips unseen.
Arcadia's veil, a waking dream,
Bewitched by forms the dusk has found -
While sloom drifts thick through woods of green.
A fevered pulse, a fleeting gleam,
The night falls soft without a sound;
Through febrile nights it slips unseen,
While sloom drifts thick through woods of green.
© Concetta Pipia
U.S.
"CARVER OF THE SPIRIT"
Modeller sloomed to sculpt
Through an alluring melody
Rapt with a desire!
Highly in a febrile state
Sculpture felt emotional
With an Arcadian spirit!
Now sculptor seemed an eldritch
With a mask to hide his pain!
He was lost in those waves of grief!
Did he sculpt all his treasures of love
From his heart into the cast
Of craft, very delicately like a treasure?
Sometimes, I have carved all my deepest
Warmth into a model, which I couldn't enact!
Will I ever be myself or just be a maker???
© Sonal Rao
India
"LIQUID OF LIFE"
I rise a new dawn
sneaking out of the febrile darkness,
I give last makeover
saying adieu to interminable sleep.
I adorn the green carpet
with rapt reflection under the emerald towers,
I cook the meals of hard work
from the grains of Arcadian landscapes.
I hug with open arms
the eldritch horror in flames,
I address the goblet of potion
as holy drops of all faiths.
I pour down the rare gems
unfurling the sea of emotions,
I fill the crude crannies
carved on the face of globe.
I sloom to spread the new colours
across the worn out visages,
I am the ink of the planet
holding the studious taste of Nature.
I am the liquid of life
I am WATER.
© Rafiya Sayeed
Jammu/Kashmir, India
"ABOUT FIRE"
It is so febrile
At first, it is Arcadian
Then, it may become sloom.
In both cases, it keeps as being eldritch
Burning all and then coming back to life.
We are studious, learning
If we pour over fire water
or if we let the fire consume us.
The fire is rapt in human beings
As a flame or as ash.
© Bogdana Gageanu
Romania
"THE ARCADIAN GARDEN"
You lie, slooming, half awake, half asleep,
Dreaming of trees and animals, dotting the green Earth.
In your eyes are caged the free birds, rapt in animated pleasure,
Flying with feathers spread-eagled, trying to cover
feisty rays of the sun.
The eldritch waves, advancing menacingly,
with their coiled fangs,
Grovel in despair, on the beach, in mortal fear of
your coiled hair,
Like a stylish coiffeur, perming the wayward strands
studiously.
When you speak, words flow like sweet ambrosia;
Or, like a crooner, belting tunes to the beat of
the percussionist.
Don't go by my face;
I'm not sad, but mad-madly in love.
You're the virgin earth, the Arcadian garden,
before the legendary fall.
© Kalucharan Sahu
India
"IGNITE"
There was a despondency
A slumberous sloom to me,
As I laconically whispered
Around an Arcadian idyll,
Languorous, lazy
Not animated or febrile.
Something eldritch
I'm a spectre on the breeze
I longed to let go; be wild,
Yet hardly dared to breathe
Waiting with a studious belief.
Fire...
Oh God, here is
Fire!
I am Air!
I am rapt with tingling anticipation
The excitement flaming,
Energy igniting
With uninhibited exhilaration,
Two elements
Coming together,
A catalyst; raw passion
Magnetic, ferocious,
Forever
Loving...
Forever
Clashing
© Rhiannon Owens
UK
"WATER BY CHANCE"
The leaves with smiling eyes,
On glowing faces are still slooming.
The sun, rising smartly
Makes them feel febrile,
Despite being generous out and out,
They get burnt to ashes helplessly.
I'm water, an Arcadian, by chance,
I'm rapt in their eldritch consequence.
From the Kingdom of clouds,
I'm more studious to shower on them.
© Tapas Dey
India
Congratulations everyone!