Sparrow
Sparrow
Mar 14, 2018

I listen to the night

There is beauty in peace
Yet I avoid silence
It is late in the evening
All good people sleep

I am an owl type
I sit writing to you
There in my head music
The pipes of Pan tonight

It cuts out the noise I hear
Where it comes from I know not
Hiss whistle of no tune
To disturb my thoughts

I am a slave to writing
So to think there must be noise
But a noise of my choice
Not that damn white stuff

A good pair of head phones
A selected piece of music
Then I can run with the world
Even visit you when needed

I fly the earth on thought wings
I watch over you if you are ill
If I am busy my friends watch still
There are many of us here

You will see I sign off some times
With me and the children
One day on thoughtful wings
I will join them where they are.

If you are lost and in need
There is always someone to help
Just call their name to beyond
Their presence will warm your Spirit

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Just drifting and watching the night pass by..

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
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

Region, Country: UK, GBR

Favorite Poets: Wordsworth

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More from this author

Comments

T

Nicely done, very relatable and easy to follow. Sets a mellow mood and the pace fits your intention. Thank you.

trekker

Sparrow

I am sorry that I haven't commented on your works, there are so many new works on stream and I limit my time and am lazy, though I have read a few of your poems.
Your works are fine so please excuse my absence.
Thank you for your visit to my cave, good to walk with a Trekker, Africans word for the people that journeyed from Cape Town to Pretoria with their Waggons many years ago opening up South Africa.
Have you connections there?
Yes I spend much time at the end of each day on the computer, this was written last evening, as I haven't put any new things on stream for a while.
Thanks again,
Youyes Ian..

lovedly

I have been accused of
never helping
let me try with you
stalwart IAN

There is (a)X beauty in peace..........'.a' delete
Yet I avoid silence
It is late in the evening
(All) good people sleep...........''.ALL'' IS IMPLIED

I am an owl type
(I )*sit writing to you............''.I ''appears too near so delete it..say ''sitting''
There in my head music
The pipes of Pan tonight

It cuts out the noise (I hear)..but obviously you alone can do
Where it comes from I know not.......again two'' I's'' in close proximity try to avoid
Hiss whistle of no tune
To disturb my thoughts

I am a slave to writing
So to think there must be noise
But a noise of my choice
Not that damn white stuff...

''noise'' again is too close

have we some understanding
Ian do edit it
ur a
G e M
.............................................>>>>><<<<<<>>>>>>>......
REST IS EPICURIAL
VIEW accordingly kindly
Ian pl excuse
THEY SAY I am petulant what does that mean

Sparrow

Petulant, is something I have had thrown at me in early years.
It's just that you can sulk if someone tries to correct you and stamp your little feet, but now you are older you can do it in words, just look it up.
Take care young Bard,
Yours, Ian..

Geezer

to the night too. I hear the lonely cries and sometimes I may respond. It is a hard thing to try and describe. The silence of the night is filled with cries for help and though there are many like you out there; there are those that do not, cannot respond. Thank you Sparrow for being one of those that do. ~ Geezer.
.

Eumolpus

but too many of them. Starting with the first

There is a beauty in peace
Yet I avoid silence
It is late in the evening
All good people sleep

Too abstract, both peace and beauty being so many things. "all" good people sleep late in the evening? Too empirical.
The poem then settles in to the theme of the joy of writing accompanied by music in the night. Very nicely creating the mood, other than damn white stuff, which is a distraction..some will associate it with cocaine, a stimulant used by some writers (I don't think you, and it surely isn't me) so it needs to connect more to noise...
Then the narrative wanders to a realm of imagination and connection to the next world, but ending
with more of a statement which has no room for inferences- do this and that will happen. I would make it more personal. Who in YOUR universe is warming YOUR soul? '
To me this one is a good draft with some good ideas ...
..

S

"I fly the earth on thought wings". Now don't get me wrong, I relate to and like the whole poem but this line is truly exceptional.......stan

Sparrow

Many thanks for your last comment.
There is a thing called remote viewing.
It is Thought Travel and is also a way of sending healing to those that need.
There are people that can walk through places not physically but with thought.
It is a thing not talked about as remote viewing if it is known that a person has that ability they are usually visited by the ones in Grey, so they can use them as spies,
I have come across these people but now they know to keep quiet and just enjoy.
My poem about the Advisor was of one such person and it has to be a story when I have time to write it as such.
Take care young one and know we send you healing for your knee, and the other sharp object that test your being.
Yours as always, Ian, and the Children..