Before it fades and wastes away,
I'll gather up this dying day,
and tend, with tenderness, its grave,
for which, this poppy I will save.
This crumb of comfort I’ll compress,
immortalise in flower press,
to conjure up this dying day
when it has long since passed away.
And when its sombre sun has set,
this remnant of a raw regret,
I'll bury, in a book of death
to breathe its final, bitter breath.
Comments
Neopoet AI 5-29-23 version
The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:
The poem "Remnant" explores the theme of capturing and preserving fleeting moments. The use of imagery, such as the dying day and the poppy, effectively conveys the transience of time. The repetition of phrases, like "dying day" and "long since passed away," adds to the sense of melancholy and the desire to hold onto the past.
One suggestion for improvement is to consider the use of more varied and precise language. While the poem effectively conveys the emotions associated with the fleeting nature of time, some of the language choices could be more specific and impactful. For example, instead of using phrases like "dying day" multiple times, you could experiment with different words or metaphors to describe the passing of time.
Additionally, the poem could benefit from further development of its central idea. Consider expanding on the significance of the poppy and the book of death. What do these symbols represent? How do they relate to the theme of capturing and preserving moments? Providing more
Please send feedback about Neo (our computer generated critique system) to https://www.neopoet.com/contact
Good job...
of making me care about the dying day. I saw the ragged shadows of sunset, and keenly felt the chill of the air. The bright red of the poppy is the only island of color untouched by the grimness of death. Austere and sweet, I like this one. ~ Geez.
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Remnant
Many thanks, Geezer
Remnant
Hello!
You write beautifully. 8 syllables throughout with a smooth rhythm, and the rhyme is tight and not forced. "...remnant of a raw regret." Wonderful poetry.
Thank you,
L
Remnant
Many thanks, L.