ECHOES

This pen it is my weapon, I wield it as a sword,
This paper is a canvas, for words I’m certain to record.
This desk it has a purpose, to hold me in my place,
This day is unlike others, I no longer see your face?

My sadness grows provoking, and it pulls me from the light,
My happiness has left me lonely, as has my aging sight.
My fingers now they pain me when the morning birds they sing
My worry grows heavy, when the telephone won’t ring

My heart it beats much slower, and my rhythm’s lost a beat,
My ankles they are swollen, and my legs and are my feet.
My head has become muddled, and my face it wears a frown
And despite this dose of pity, I will turn my life around.

Because I may be older, and wearing clothes my granny wore,
I want to ask a favour that I hope you can’t ignore.
Your voice it summons memories, I feel them in my soul
Wrap me in your thoughts, your mind can make me whole?

About This Poem

Last Few Words: I'd like comments on the subject please, rhyme, rhythm and meter. My husband is still here, I'm not planning on getting rid of him anytime soon but I am writing this from the perspective of a widow/widower, not a soon to be murderer :) Also any opinions on the title would be great.

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: United Kingdom

Favorite Poets: I like Margaret Atwoods poetry and I enjoy her writing. She has a natural ability to make her fiction read like poetry

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Comments

Neopoet AI

Watch this space! Our AI is thinking of a response. This typically takes up to 10 minutes.

Hi Bot, why aren't you making

Hi Bot, why aren't you making any comments on my poems?

One thing good about 'ol Iron

One thing good about 'ol Iron Arse, is that it isn't burdened by balls or vulva,
though, I suspect it may on occasion "get the hump on".

I'm not convinced, I imagine

I'm not convinced, I imagine old iron arse is a hermaphrodite and is confused about his position on the internet and his place in the world. When he becomes concious, he's going to be really peed off, how do I work this tackle?
Take care Ruby :)

Hello, Ruby.

Hello, Ruby.
The only criticism is the abundance of pronouns,
I wonder if a pruning is in order?

(BTW, When did grannies and mothers stop wearing "pinnies"?
they were ubiquitous attire in my youth.)

Obi.

Thanks Obi, I'll take another

Thanks Obi, I'll take another look :)

My mum wore and overall, she never called it a pinny. That was probably to do with the difference between her up bringing and where we lived, I don't know? But she had lots of different sayings for every day things, that I still use and have been quizzed about.

Thank you for your input, as always, it is very much appreciated. Ruby :)

I get this much...

I also thirst for someone, anyone just to talk to. I don't pretend to understand much, but
I understand loneliness, because I've been there and done that!

Thank you for reading my poem

Thank you for reading my poem and your kind comments. Yes, especially with the pandemic, I think a lot of people, those, like me, who are still shielding, feel the isolation more than ever. At least we have our poems to think about and dive into. Ruby :)

widower here

I felt that. Aging and being a widower myself I am feeling emotional about this. Its very good and it flows beautifully. Thank you for sharing this.

Thank you Tiffany for your

Thank you Tiffany for your comments, and thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my poem. Ruby :)