Sestina Revision

The Seasons of Good and Bad

The sleeping bear grumbles, ready to wake,

The snow man so old withers with heat,

The majestic birds return with songs of pride,

The cold held dear by the holiday spirits that be,

Has overstayed its welcome,

As winter departs, the beauty of spring appears.

A green sprout no bigger than a nail appears,

Little is it known that as these buds wake,

They bring with them responsibilities to welcome,

The grass, flowers, bees, and honey wait for the heat,

That comes with the little green sprout that will be,

A tree of spring, a season of pride.

Naturally, with this season there is pride,

This new tree so tall appears,

The farmer’s anticipation will be,

Halted with a site so strong to wake,

Those who never sleep, fruit of heat.

Round, red, and ready- welcome.

The farmer returns to his home with a warm welcome,

Such display of hard work and Mother Nature brings pride,

 Select, slice, spice the fruit that needs love and heat,

This year’s crop was special it appears,

It is officially time for even spring to attend its wake,

For the sun, growth, and fruit prove it to be

Summer. Time to be,

Happy. To summer adventures we say welcome,

Check the clock, is it time to wake?

No. Summer brings sleeping in with much pride,

Sipping tea, watching lightening bugs- perfect it appears,

Until the too hot deadly heat.

The ground scorches anyone that tries to brace the heat,

Lakes and ponds seem to be,

Gone. Drought hits a town that appears

Thirsty for the water so scarce and so welcome,

The great harvest serves as a reminder to have pride,

But the overbearing heat forces us to wake,

The heat was once welcome,

To be cold and resourceful can also bring pride,

Seasons appears as we do when we wake- ready to bring the new day both good and bad.

I actually, originally, was thinking of trying my hand at a Sestina that used the same word at the end of each line. My original was about eating food. Quickly I realized that was far more challenging than I realized because of two reasons. One, I used the word to transition into the next line the same way every time. It became really repetitious and boring. Secondly, as my group helped me recognize, there was not too much of a point to my poem, a problem we were warned in class not to ignore. After going a different path entirely and making changes to this poem by adding more literally devices like alliteration when I could, I feel much better about my piece. I also struggled with the last lines; as I was not actually sure how I was supposed to incorporate my keywords, so speaking with my group really helped me to generally clear up what was supposed to happen there.