Awaiting the Poems!
I gave myself until this morning to flesh out a really great idea I had for my prompts . . . and then didn't quite get there. =P
But I do know that someone else may already be done with his and raring to link it up, so I'm putting this post up now and hoping that the poem gets here soon, too!
UPDATE: My awaited poem is finally here . . . but a little different from what I started out with. But the world itself is a little different from what I started out with.
Question: Why does God do that?
Theodicy, she called it.
By Homer, he misheard.
Wither wander warriors at the service of the Word.
And wreaths, she was reminded
Were offerings to the dead.
With living flame she lit the light of rosy joy instead.
No pyre of pious pagans,
Had ever burned so bright
As that act of faith and hope left flickering in the night.
By morning: he was waiting.
By mourning: she was blessed.
In those who labour, love and lose, He plants the seed of rest.
Like last month, we had only one other player for December. Poor Dylan got stuck with prompts straight out of Are You Afraid of November?, but seemed to have no trouble turning them into a masterpiece he has entitled Lux in Tenebris. As I hinted in his combox, it's a poem full of symphonic sound.
Now click on his link. You know you want to!