A fog settles upon these shoulders
the cape that sweeps across the plains
the biting wind sings its wailing dirge
whose fingers pluck and scrape and snap
Once upon a breath so dreary
the banal landscape stripped away
a peril hunched in fitful slumber
morning promise not guaranteed
When golden shafts part the curtains
and birdsong fills the early air
a once dormant heart rises
thankful for a good cup of tea
Comments
CB
CB,
this is full of imagery, vivid and crystal clear.
I particularly like the double spacing, it is as if each line is it's own powerful description and doesn't need another line to be added to it.
Single lines, beautifully crafted together as one poem.
I like!
HS
Hey HS
This feedback is particularly important to me as I wasn't entirely sure this poem would 'fly.' Thanks for the like. Me like that! lol. See ya 'round the site. CB
Cryptic
Very evocative and descriptive. I like the metaphor very much.
This reminds me of the middle of Rannach Moor, in the scottish highlands - bleak and dreary, then coming alive with color and life and new beginnings as sunlight streams down from between the clouds.
Excellent poetry.
Thanks, Jim
I am liking the connection with the highlands.... that just brings even more vibrance to the poem. I sit at my desk grateful for your interaction and feedback. Cheers, Freds.
Hello Jayne-Chloe
It has been a long while, indeed. Thank you so much for reading and commenting on this poem. It's good to hear from you again. Freds
I had an idea for the last
I had an idea for the last line, a little bit different from the expected and incorporating your signature line:
When curtains part with golden shafts
and birdsong fills the early air
the dormant heart rises
thankful for a good cup of tea
p.s. I very much like this poem.
Thanks Kailashana
I enjoyed that twist in the last stanza that you suggested. Very nice indeed.
My Initiator
My initiator
Was an Aussie too
Someone like you
He knew
I knew
no poetry
As you do too.
Hope some day,
You both shall know
How out of a scientist
A poet you did grow
If at all,
Still I look forward
To your kind of imagery,
That’s what is lacking within me!
There is no lack in you
And you have discovered and continue to uncover imagery and metaphor that only you uniquely can share with the world. If however you choose to silence your pen then the world would be at a loss.... There are among us many scientists who have expressed themselves in verse, wonderful poetry and fiction... it is a known territory and a very open road. The key to poetry is the music and dance that the writer partakes in while articulating what their Muse has stirred within them. Having said thus, we should never allow ourselves to compare and envy one another for we are all unique and have individual voices to speak with and springs out of which to draw from. Our sole duty is to be faithful to our voice, our source, and our Muse. Cheers.
Wonderful I shall return
Wonderful
I shall return to the pen,
Written early this morn,
There is a long waiting list
For my laptop
Or else
I’d have been by now
World atop,
Reading thy elaboration
And I ought to make a true confession,
I write poetry for my self satisfaction,
Those who read it also
Are just a fraction
But they do read that’s
The most elation
Of ego centric equation
Refinement later please
Accept it as it is it mayn't
You yet displease.
My pen shall never dry,
How so ever
Any one may try,
So a temporary bye, bye
But now I do return
To alleviate the torment
Of an unedited concern
This one called to mind
This one called to mind thoughts of Edger Allan Poe for some reason. The slight rhyme scheme was a little offputting. But nevertheless a pleasant read. John
As a rule
I steer away from rhyming altogether. But sometimes it just makes its way into the verses. Most of my rhymes are unintended. And Poe... well, he may have rubbed off on me. It's part of school curriculum.