The prompt: Write verse in "ottava rima." The rhyming pattern: ABABABCC, traditionally in iambic pentameter, but I went for tetrameter (because I couldn't make pentameter work).
The soil is soft and fragrant now
So open up your heart's doors wide
And put fresh hands upon the plow.
Forget the bitter tears you've cried,
Release the lines upon your brow,
And look to Spring's refreshing tide.
At last, the dark has passed away
To give us now a bright new day.
Now take into your little hands
The promise of new seeds to sow.
Fear not the place in which you stand.
It is your starting place to grow
New promises in fallow land.
Start small, with just your little toe.
An inch or so will be just fine.
Today becomes your starting line.
Tomorrow you will add anew
A row, a plant, a seed, a blade;
And look back on today's work, too.
You'll see the progress that you've made:
The seedlings with new sprouts that grew
because of you and your small spade.
Farewell to tears of yesterday.
The journey starts for you today.
(Special credit to this essay in the Rabbit Room by Matt Conner for today's inspiration)