WD Poetic Form Challenge: Cyrch A Chwta

It’s about time (maybe past time) for another WD Poetic Form Challenge: this time around writing the cyrch a chwta!

Find the rules for writing cyrch a chwtas here. It’s a Welsh form; so plenty of end rhymes and internal rhymes.

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 June 20, 2018.
  • Poets can enter as many cyrch a chwtas 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  • All poems should be previously unpublished.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@fwcommunity.com. Or just write a new cyrch a chwta. They’re fun to write; I promise.
  • I will only consider cyrch a chwtas 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!

*****

Master Poetic Forms!

Learn how to write sestina, shadorma, haiku, monotetra, golden shovel, and more with The Writer’s Digest Guide to Poetic Forms, by Robert Lee Brewer.

This e-book covers more than 40 poetic forms and shares examples to illustrate how each form works. Discover a new universe of poetic possibilities and apply it to your poetry today!

Click to continue.

*****

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.

*****

Find more poetic posts here:

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

155 thoughts on “WD Poetic Form Challenge: Cyrch A Chwta

  1. PressOn

    SANCTUARY

    When hope commences to fade
    and worry casts its broad shade,
    I seek the places I played
    in the theatrical trade;
    I go where the sets are made
    and pretend I’m in a glade
    where greenery dispels fears.
    Of such are arrears put paid.

    — William Preston

  2. PressOn

    CONFESSION

    This is how the cops viewed it:
    the butler killed, and rued it;
    their evidence renewed it.
    That’s how the D.A. cued it
    so jurors would conclude it.
    Despite how they construed it,
    indeed did I do the deed,
    and so I plead: I dood it.

    —William Preston

  3. Bruce Niedt

    Third and final draft:

    Little Oak

    You pretender, little oak,
    a squirrel’s lost acorn, boldly poke
    up through my grass like some joke,
    growing with the rains that soak.
    For some folks you may evoke
    thoughts of forest, but I woke
    my mower – now lawn’s de-treed.
    You’re a weed; I’m one cruel bloke.

  4. Bruce Niedt

    Rewrite:

    Little Oak

    You pretender, little oak,
    a squirrel’s lost acorn, boldly poke
    up through my grass like some joke,
    growing with the rains that soak.
    For some folks you may evoke
    thoughts of forest, but I woke
    my mower – you’re a just a weed.
    I concede I’m one cruel bloke.

  5. Nancy Posey

    Goin’ Fishin’

    For a kid about my size
    with the requisite supplies–
    fishing pole, and hooks, and flies–
    there can be no better prize,
    fishing with the older guys
    out of view of grownup eyes.
    Maybe I will get my wish–
    I’ll hook a catfish—surprise!

      1. PressOn

        I’m no fisherman, but my mother lived along the old Erie Canal when she was a girl, and said that bullheads caught therein were gooood.

  6. Bruce Niedt

    Little Oak

    You pretender, little oak,
    a squirrel’s lost acorn, boldly poke
    up through my grass like some joke,
    growing with the rains that soak.
    While for some you may evoke
    future forests, I awoke
    my mower to cut you, weed –
    lawn un-treed – I’m one cruel bloke.

  7. k weber

    Chromatic

    Green glass on the windowsill
    catches light, makes chlorophyll
    silhouettes. The white walls fill
    with prismatic colors spilled
    from a vase or watch face. Will
    these rainbows fade or fall ill?
    Do shadows mourn hues as they
    go? Or beg they stay, fulfilled?

    — K Weber

  8. Darlene Franklin

    Red Feather
    A single red feather floats
    My way, and I pause to note.
    Some say courage it denotes
    Sent to man when angels vote.
    No reason—I only wrote
    Truth untold, too long remote.
    No weaving it in my hair—
    If I wear it, I might gloat

  9. Darlene Franklin

    Red Feather
    A single red feather floats
    My way, and I pause to note.
    Some say courage it denotes
    Sent to man when angels vote.
    No reason—I only wrote
    Truth untold, too long remote.
    No weaving it in my hair—
    If I wear it, I might gloat

  10. PressOn

    Pardon my sloppiness; this is how I meant the piece to be:

    MOCKED

    When mockingbirds sing at night
    it’s often not a delight;
    sometimes it’s more like a blight
    as they continue despite
    attempts to put them to flight,
    but they can always excite
    cuss words that flow in a stream
    from the would-be dreamer’s plight.

    — William Preston

  11. PressOn

    MOCKED

    When mockingbirds sing at night
    it’s often not a delight;
    sometimes it’s more like a blight
    as they continue despite
    attempts to put them to flight,
    but they can always excite
    cuss words the come in a stream
    from the would-be dreamer’s plight.

    — William Preston

  12. MET

    I Have No Answers

    The lean dancer dragonfly
    Flits and hears the noisy magpie.
    Grey tabby cat’s half-closed eye
    Dreams of a mackerel sky.
    I sit there an old aunty
    Thinking how life goes awry
    Toast you my friend and my love
    The mourning dove asks me why.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    May 30, 2018

  13. lsteadly

    Flirting Fly-By

    Hardly a day passes by
    when I can’t figure out why
    my heart meets yours on the sly-
    Will we always be this shy?
    Almost too afraid to cry,
    knowing someday we will die
    holding a secret so deep
    our souls keep skirting good-bye

  14. MET

    The Quest I Have Set

    I have set for me a quest…
    Ride the roads by father dressed.
    Nature’s beauty own bequest
    For travelers’ weary rest…
    Wayfarers’ hearts lost are blessed;
    They view the mountains ridge crest…
    Find they are blest just being there
    Seeing his vision attest.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    May 30, 2018

  15. LCaramanna

    May 29, 2018 at 7:25 pm
    Guilty Verdict
    by Lorraine Caramanna

    Trap snaps on little mouse head,
    shovel wacks sure it is dead.
    How that mouse wishes he tread
    in another place! Instead,
    blood stains concrete floor bright red.
    Murder conviction, I dread
    jail for a self-defense crime,
    guilty this time in my shed.

  16. Anthony94

    Text with Picture

    Tuesday she texts she sees nine
    pipevine caterpillars dine
    on green moonseed’s twining vine
    wrapped in fence beneath the pine
    plump brown bodies’ gold dots shine
    head to tail munching in line
    beneath antennae crunching
    soon butterflies to design

  17. Darlene Franklin

    ON MY BIRTHDAY
    August third, twenty-eighteen
    Sixty-fourth edition seen
    Free start on a slate that’s clean
    Passion for God’s word still keen
    And with poetry my thoughts screen
    I’m on a hunt through my genes
    Proud, I bid adieu to fear
    With interests new, my world’s green

  18. Darlene Franklin

    DANDELION DANCE

    Dandelions dance at dawn
    Capture sunshine on the lawn
    Countless others they will spawn
    Gardeners may wish them gone
    Yet children to them are drawn
    Their light touch needed, not brawn
    Perchance their mood not to touch
    Leave as food for gangly fawn

  19. Nurit Israeli

    THEY’VE ONLY JUST MET AND YET

    She struggles to comprehend:
    Is this a start or an end?
    Can this relation ascend?
    Will he become a true friend?
    Should she assent or contend?
    She doesn’t want to pretend!
    He’s ninety, she’s eighty eight:
    Is it too late to intend?

    ~ Nurit Israeli

  20. Tracy Davidson

    The Wise Man?

    He said life is not a race,
    just take it at your own pace,
    there’s no loss of pride or face
    in settling for second place.
    Ambitious sorts always chase,
    always risk a fall from grace.
    Happy, those who fit the norm,
    life’s boring but warm embrace.

  21. tunesmiff

    MATCH THE HATCH
    G. Smith
    ==≈==
    Wandering up Wildcat Creek,
    just below the mountain peak,
    listen’g to the waters speak,
    looking for what we all seek–
    outlined shadows, wet and sleek.
    Ev’ry rainbow color streak,
    flashes in the sunlit pool.
    Therein lies trout’s cool mystique.

    (For the Wednesday prompt 438 – 5/30/18 – POOL [& posted earlier, I thought…])

  22. tunesmiff

    MATCH THE HATCH
    G. Smith
    ==≈==
    Wandering up Wildcat Creek,
    just below the mountain peak,
    listen’g to the waters speak,
    looking for what we all seek–
    outlined shadows, wet and sleek.
    Ev’ry rainbow color streak,
    flashes in the sunlit pool.
    Therein lies trout’s cool mystique.

    (For the Poetic Asides 5/30/18 Weekly prime, POOL)

  23. Bruce Niedt

    Package Deal

    Manufacturers destroy
    simple gifts meant for a boy
    or girl, by deflating joy –
    they make packing to annoy.
    Tamper-, theft- proof, that’s their ploy –
    It’s frustrating! (I’m not coy.)
    Extrication: cut, pull, shake –
    I hope I don’t break the toy.

  24. PressOn

    MACK’S MINI-SAGA

    My old buddy, Mack the Yak,
    once loved a jill in a sacque
    but he had too little jack
    to buy her gifts, and this lack
    led him to peddle some crack;
    the cops soon were on his back
    and so he became a con,
    a name on a plastic plaque.

    — William Preston

  25. tunesmiff

    COMMENCEMENT
    G. Smith
    ––+––
    Four years of education,
    And useless information,
    Results in revelation,
    That all the calculation,
    All the needless frustration,
    Gets a standing ovation,
    That’s over, lickety-split
    They call it, “graduation.”

  26. k weber

    **this is the correct version with the line break fix**

    In the Season of Wade and Wait

    Those smooth, cool rocks: skipping stones
    with you was never dull. Groans
    from our jokes echoed. No phones
    distracted our lake days. Drones
    did not exist; monotone
    dragonfly wings hummed their lone
    ancestry. Bare feet were boots
    and knee-deep roots for spring bones.

    — K Weber

  27. k weber

    In the Season of Wade and Wait

    Those smooth, cool rocks: skipping stones with you was never dull. Groans
    from our jokes echoed. No phones
    distracted our lake days. Drones
    did not exist; monotone
    dragonfly wings hummed their lone
    ancestry. Bare feet were boots
    and knee-deep roots for spring bones.

    — K Weber

  28. Jacqueline Hallenbeck

    Why I write Poetry
    Inspired by Anastasia’s song ‘Once Upon a December’ and Robert’s question

    I write it for my lover
    and somehow be discovered.
    I’m drunk on words, not sober.
    I picture my book covers.
    Inside, a four-leaf clover.
    Before my days are over
    I will sing this lovely song…
    Once Upon an October.

  29. taylor graham

    GREAT BLUE HERON

    A tall gray dancer slo-mo
    up the east fenceline where grow
    annual grasses I must mow,
    they’re dry, flammable. I’ll go
    weed-whacking fenceline. But no
    disturbing that bird aglow
    in dull gray curves – so stately
    passes he. What do I know?

  30. taylor graham

    WHAT WAS IT?

    In high free circles it flies,
    mystery hawk of wild, raw cries.
    Small creature at peril lies
    hidden in field grass that dies
    on cusp of summer. July’s
    as harsh as raptor-sharp eyes.
    Look for meaning in such height?
    gone from sight – up, up the skies.

  31. PressOn

    A LIBERAL ETHOS

    What helps us to remain free
    of rampant authority
    that denies the right to be
    secure at home or at sea;
    that permits each he and she
    to live their lives happily
    in ways that matter to them?
    It is called democracy.

    — William Preston

  32. PressOn

    WATCHING THE FEEDERS IN MIDWINTER

    Consider the chickadee,
    the epitome of free;
    it wanders so merrily
    with such perspicacity
    that this thought occurs to me:
    it is content just to be.
    So now, I find new delight
    in the sprite of the pine tree.

    — William Preston

  33. k weber

    Redecorating

    You hate. I reciprocate
    then wait. You retaliate.
    I’m late and you relocate
    upstate. I reiterate
    your fate: reevaluate
    my 8 months belly, restate
    how much you can love. You don’t.
    An irate man won’t relate.

    — K Weber

  34. Eileen Sateriale

    Working at the Pool
    by Eileen Sateriale

    It’s summertime and no school.
    To be a lifeguard, so cool.
    I’m paid to work at the pool,
    a blue, green aquatic jewel.
    I enforce proper pool rules
    among overbearing fools.
    No swimmer should turn up dead
    with my head and lifeguard tools.

  35. Mindym24601

    I’ve walked miles both east and west
    Looking for a moment’s rest
    To ease the pain in my chest
    That comes from being grief’s guest
    My friends, they think that I jest,
    Either that, or I’m obsessed,
    But, ardently, I loved you
    And now we’re through, I protest

  36. Mindym24601

    I was in love, but forgot
    To find some place for my thoughts
    To keep them safe when we fought
    But I failed, and now they’re caught
    You know my dreams yet cannot
    Respect them just as you ought
    Oh! I loved so foolishly
    You tricked me; I loved for naught

  37. Eileen Sateriale

    Mood Booster
    by Eileen Sateriale

    Children went outside to play
    on the leading day of May.
    Clouds with not one speck of gray,
    singing from oak trees, blue jays.
    Young boys engaged in horseplay.
    Girls picked colorful bouquets.
    The sunshine so very bright;
    positive light; this May Day.

  38. agnesb

    Cherry blossom in the tree,
    Have you come to visit me,
    Dressed in pink serenity?
    A blithe springtime bumblebee
    Ambles by quite happily,
    Blissful in your company.
    I understand his bright buzz —
    It’s because you’re here. We see!

  39. agnesb

    A poem that Lear wrote:
    A cat and owl (but no goat)
    Sailed off to sea in a boat —
    It thankfully stayed afloat.
    Their dowry, a five-pound note
    (Less “one shilling” quote-unquote —
    Used to buy a wedding ring).
    An amazing anecdote!

  40. Ryk Stanton

    Why would she ever want me?
    It is a real mystery.
    I try but I cannot see
    How this is reality.
    Maybe it’s just fantasy,
    And I need some therapy –
    I’m just not that kind of guy
    Even though I’d like to be.

    by Ryk Stanton

  41. taylor graham

    PILGRIMAGE
    for C.C. Peirce

    People told him, “Pray for gold.
    Everything is bought or sold,
    that’s the wisdom from of old.”
    But he sought the mountain folk,
    walked rough pathways under oak,
    swelter or in rains that soak
    and wash things clean. So he’d say,
    “this new day, pause and behold.”

  42. taylor graham

    WINGS

    Nest built in a tree up high,
    breeze sings bluebird rockabye.
    Birdlings bloom in summer’s eye
    till the leaves begin to sigh:
    “ah but the neighbor cat is sly
    and would like some bluebird pie.”
    From a limb the kitty swings,
    baby birdlings learn to fly.

  43. Haikutopia

    Sugar and Spice
    by Sari Grandstaff

    Pitter patter little feet
    Hold my hand to cross the street
    Swimming lessons in the heat
    Sledding in the snow and sleet
    Dance recitals keep the beat
    Messy bedroom never neat
    Suddenly you’re not a pup
    All grown up my daughter sweet

  44. Jacqueline Hallenbeck

    baby got poems

    that she sells for a quarter
    to your son and your daughter
    she writes them in the water
    fish can’t help but applaud her
    if police ever caught her
    she’d be charged with manslaughter
    but poetry’s not a crime
    she just rhymes, like god taught her

  45. ElainaLGonzales

    Elaina L Gonzales
    Unsung Heroes

    Caring creatures in the light
    Saving people from the night
    Wishing they could stop the fight
    Heavens knows they have the right
    God, don’t leave them out of sight
    Give them hope and shine it bright
    From the shadows they have come
    For the some who have the might

  46. Haikutopia

    Inspiration Sought
    By Sari Grandstaff

    There are ancient pleasure domes
    Odes and sonnets, epic tomes,
    Mariners who sail and roam
    Odysseus far from home
    Dover beaches’ frothy foam
    Treasure hunting shipwrecks combed
    Searching I hope not for naught
    For a thought to spur my poem

  47. PressOn

    EARLY SPRING ON THE NORTHERN PLAINS

    The plow moves across the field,
    breaking up a land congealed
    by cold mud that formed a shield
    against a promise of yield;
    but under sunlight, annealed,
    the land’s fecundity, healed,
    prepares to birth the new corn
    and dreams born of hope appealed.

  48. taylor graham

    A BROKEN VASE

    Kitty-sphinx with half-closed eye
    watches puppy on the sly.
    That Chinese vase – by and by
    mistress just might wonder why
    and who’s to blame. Cats don’t lie.
    Purr affirms “it was not I.”
    Don’t ask Kitty, she won’t heed.
    Cats don’t need an alibi.

  49. Jacqueline Hallenbeck

    philomena’s concoction

    have i got the biggest scoop!
    (gotta keep you in the loop)
    i was sitting on the stoop
    (mind you, i am not a snoop)
    when i saw the nincompoop
    serving sal what smelled like poop
    anne said chicken, which i doubt
    it turned out to be skunk soup

  50. Jacqueline Hallenbeck

    one obliging poet

    if you, world, my piece critique
    may you find it quite unique
    i do not attention seek
    if this poem makes your week
    awesome! bravo! magnifique!
    but if not, i’ll change technique
    happily write another
    and start over, so to speak

COMMENT