WD Poetic Form Challenge: Clogyrnach

As of today, there’s still time to submit an entry for the diminishing verse challenge, but the window’s closing tomorrow night. So it’s time to get another challenge started up; this time for the clogyrnach.

Find the rules for writing clogyrnachs here. This Welsh form is fun to say, sure, but it’s also fun to write.

So start writing them and sharing here on the blog (this specific post) for a chance to be published in Writer’s Digest magazine–as part of the Poetic Asides column. (Note: You have to log in to the site to post comments/poems; creating an account is free.)

Here’s how the challenge works:

  • Challenge is free. No entry fee.
  • The winner (and sometimes a runner-up or two) will be featured in a future edition of Writer’s Digest magazine as part of the Poetic Asides column.
  • Deadline 11:59 p.m. (Atlanta, GA time) on March 15, 2017.
  • Poets can enter as many clogyrnachs as they wish. The more “work” you make for me the better, but remember: I’m judging on quality, not quantity.
  • All poems should be previously unpublished. If you have a specific question about your specific situation, just send me an e-mail at robert.brewer@fwmedia.com. Or just write new clogyrnach. They’re fun to write; I promise.
  • I will only consider clogyrnachs shared in the comments below. It gets too confusing for me to check other posts, go to other blogs, etc.
  • Speaking of posting, if this is your first time, your comment may not appear immediately. However, it should appear within a day (or 3–if shared on the weekend). So just hang tight, and it should appear eventually. If not, send me an e-mail at the address above.
  • Please include your name as you would like it to appear in print. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to use your user/screen name, which might be something like HaikuPrincess007 or MrLineBreaker. WD has a healthy circulation, so make it easy for me to get your byline correct.
  • Finally–and most importantly–be sure to have fun!


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Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community, which means he maintains this blog, edits a couple Market Books (Poet’s Market and Writer’s Market), writes a poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine, leads online education, speaks around the country on publishing and poetry, and a lot of other fun writing-related stuff. He’s also the author of the poetry collection Solving the World’s Problems.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.


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108 thoughts on “WD Poetic Form Challenge: Clogyrnach

  1. Nancy Posey

    Young Girl Plays Old-Time

    We watch her rosin up her bow
    when she plays “Rock the Cradle, Joe.”
    How we love that song.
    She lets us play along
    Nothing wrong
    with the show.

    The older folks all harmonize
    ‘bout yaller hair and cold blue eyes
    No one missed a line–
    could have played it blind—
    They don’t mind
    that she cries.

    Her heart is tied to fiddle strings
    and all those ballads that she sings
    tell of broken hearts
    lovers torn apart,
    cupid’s dart,
    angel wings.

  2. tunesmiff

    G. Smith
    Mourning the morning star, I turn
    away, and yet still feel the burn,
    the unspoken word,
    the feeling unheard/
    How absurd
    how I yearn.

  3. Jane Shlensky

    A Poet in Wartime

    “All a poet can do is warn,”
    Wilfred Owen says, thus forsworn.
    He received release
    a week before peace,
    a decease
    we can mourn.

  4. Jane Shlensky


    Outside this warm room, all is chill.
    A lonely horse stands on the hill
    in a pasture that’s brown,
    winter sealed into ground.
    Is he bound to stand still?

    Is he destined to dwell blurred in haze
    as sunrise gives shape to his days?
    He fashions a cloud
    from breath, gently plowed,
    silence loud as a blaze.

    I could tell him some things about fire:
    it warms and destroys, like desire.
    As he waits for hay,
    patience slips away.
    We could say he’s hay-wired.

  5. Jane Shlensky

    Raw News

    Crows fuss and flutter from the trees
    cawing of scraps and traps with ease.
    Such corvid chatter
    of things that matter
    is better than TVs.

  6. Jane Shlensky


    Snow burns away—sun’s magic act—
    a disappearance, like a fact;
    it’s here and gone (blink)
    a slip of song (think)
    on the brink of impact.

  7. Jane Shlensky


    A squinting wink of azure sky
    gives me new hope to measure by.
    I tip up my face,
    accept gentle grace
    and embrace heaven’s eye.


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