WATERMARK

The first prompt from NaPoWriMo:

Have you ever read a triolet? These are nice, short little poems with very predictable rhyme schemes and repeated lines. They’re easy to write, but not easy to write well — all those repetitions can sound rather clanging or maudlin, if you’re not careful.

". . . not easy to write well" indeed. Here is my second effort:

He is a savaged, splintered thing,
terrain of stitches and scars.
The crystal’s cracked, it does not ring.
He is a savaged, splintered thing.
His voice is hoarse, he does not sing
old songs of intimate wars.
He is a savaged, splintered thing,
terrain of stitches and scars.

And here my first:

The garden promises green.
Not all promises are kept.
Dark roots reach down, unseen.
The garden promises green.
The princess thought she’d be queen.
She dreamt of her prince as she slept.
The garden promises green.
Not all promises are kept.

Both, I fear, maudlin. But, I'm just beginning again, after a very long drought. Bear with me . . .