This Poem was Submitted By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2003-12-27 12:35:20 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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The Stoop
Marmalade of gold with orange
striations, fresh-snipped mint,
crumbs from a mother's array
of treats, and a child's sweet face.
The herb will wilt soon like energy
in late afternoon and the child runs
outside to play while the light lasts.
A mint sprig in her tea for viewing
a sea of persimmon, cinnabar,
and then grape-deep tints of sunset.
And so begins a tremolo of night's
timbre, its color tone. Scene
from the stoop: a panorama
of nature against a stellar backdrop
of cosmic curtains. Child at her side,
the mother knows they will survive
any dearth or paucity because the earth
always provides. A certain fertile smell
tells that without light, unseen life
goes on until the sprout of dawn. |
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Copyright © December 2003 Mell W. Morris
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2004-01-07 13:48:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hellsn Bells Mell, Some of this brilliant color would warm the cocklers of this chilled heart.
Your lurical qualities are not surpassed by any pOET IN tpl'S fAMILY OF POETS.
qUITE SERIOUSLY I READ THIS SUBMISSION FOR DAYS NOW, AND WITH ONE DAY LEFT DECIDED THAT i JUST HAVE TO COME UP WITH THE ENERGY AND AT LEAST LET YOU KNOW, YOUR SKILLS BECOME MORE BEAUTIFUL WITH EACH SUBMISSION, AND THIS POEM IS NOT LACKING ANY OF THE QUALITIES I ALWAYS COMMEND YOU ON EACH MONTH.
Slippin in and out of case priority I feel I have to bid adieu for now, before I wanr unsuccessful here.
Like polished gem stones that capture the radiance and soft allure of the sun, very brilliant in mine eyes.
I'm alright, just super tired all the time, the old ticker isn't pumping enough oxygen to feed this staved, and aging fragments of a body once what it no longer is. Good luck, I'll always toss the die in your favor, hands down, even on your most mundane day, of which this isn't one.
Love, Jo
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-01-04 15:10:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.90000
Dear Mell:
Your poem this Sunday morning is like hearing a loved psalm, or the taste of]
a breakfast prepared by a loved one. It is something to savor and return to,
over and over again. I rain my eyes over the lines, then stopped and began
again, as sensory memories and shivery delights of color and sound played
through my mind like a Winton Marsalis profusion of "Where or When" - (I am
listening to him now!) Reading your poem, I am reminded of what Stanley
Crouch once wrote about Winton: "The most important thing about Marsalis is
that he truly loves to communicate the essences of music to his fellow musicians
and to his audiences." I think that *you* do this with poetry! You are, in my
estimation, a *poet's poet* as well as someone whose work is certainly loved
by those who are lucky enough to read your melodic creations.
Marmalade of gold with orange
striations, fresh-snipped mint,
crumbs from a mother's array
of treats, and a child's sweet face.
Luscious tidbits of sound such as 'ar/ra' in "marmalade/orange/array" are only
an appetizer to the main feast. The sounds within "fresh-snipped mint" are truly
onomatopoetic. One can smell the mint from the cut edges, hear the scissors'
snip. I had to return to the first line at least five times to immerse myself
in its luxury again and again.
The herb will wilt soon like energy
in late afternoon and the child runs
outside to play while the light lasts.
A mint sprig in her tea for viewing
Lovely, liquid, lilting 'ill/ilt/ild/ile/li' infuses L1, 2 and 3 especially.
I am endlessly fascinated with the perfection of even the look of the letters
in L4, for example, my eye catching on the 'i' of "mint/sprig/in/viewing" and
on the earthy 'g' of "sprig/viewing." One can almost see this as written in
calligraphic letters, as well as hear it as music.
a sea of persimmon, cinnabar,
and then grape-deep tints of sunset.
And so begins a tremolo of night's
timbre, its color tone. Scene
Here I almost felt as if I'd overdosed on exotic tastes, colors, scents, and
above all, sounds. "tremolo of night's/timbre" is brilliant and exhilarating.
No one but you could write "grape-deep tints of sunset" and have me both
ecstatic and envious! The languorous "sea of persimmon" meets the "grape-deep"
of sunset, and we surrender to the desire to descend into "night's timbre" -
almost in trance at this point. But my chills haven't subsided enough to
endure the frisson of what you deliver in the next stanza:
from the stoop: a panorama
of nature against a stellar backdrop
of cosmic curtains. Child at her side,
the mother knows they will survive
Within this stanza is the whole of what we need. The nourishment of
"nature against a stellar backdrop" implies spirit or at the very
least, divine beauty and meaning. With the addition of "cosmic curtains"
mother and child are surrounded by a pervasive splendor that inspires hope -
truly what is needed for survival! The clue that may be taken from your
exquisite eloquence (at least for this reader) is "God's handwriting"
as Emerson once wrote of beauty.
any dearth or paucity because the earth
always provides. A certain fertile smell
tells that without light, unseen life
goes on until the sprout of dawn.
You know I love "dearth/earth" but I have to say that these words, combined with "fertile"
are in themselves a song, a paean of gratitude for "unseen life." I read 'spirit' here,
as well as a multiplicity of earth's minute lifeforms. Your "a certain fertile smell" evokes
a plethora of memories of the scent of fresh dug earth, of holy, hidden things within
the planet that sustains our lives. No mere embodiment of minerals, you show us her as
a divine creation, if I may use that word one more time. <smile>
The "sprout of dawn" is enough in itself - daylight's approach, but written with
your caress of words, so that layers unfold before the eyes of this reader. I feel
this final line as a new awakening, an illumination, a "seeing the light" in many
senses. For the fine gift of this poem, I have only my appreciation to give in
return.
Brava, my friend! Kudos for your original, splendiferous perceptions made audible,
visible and memorable. Tossing mint sprigs and white roses tied in violet ribbons. . .
All my best,
Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2004-01-02 23:01:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mell,
The voting period is ending already and I hasted to critique the remaining poems in my list especially the one that's currently on the winners' list. This one is worthy of a plaque for it tells about how everyone lives in the gift of nature. Your characterization here is the mother with her child which could make one reflects on the situation of dearth or paucity. I could think of the thought that amidst the scarcity of foods or supply, nature provides us the thing to survive.
"Child at her side, the mother knows they will survive
any dearth or paucity because the earth always provides."
A very tearful thought for me because I could remember the times that my family was in dire need of supply but with our crops we completed the meal with satisfaction.
That's enough coz I'm crying now! I should be merry this New Year!
Once again, this is a quality poem with all the ingredients and highlights.
It is a priviledge to have read this before the voting period ends. I'm gonna between this one and Establishing Vocabularies for my choice this month. Let me review the first one.
Happy New Year!
Jordan
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-01-01 14:09:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.41667
Very poetic. I was wondering what you'd think about genderizing the child after the first mention of "child" just to allow you to avoid repeating "child" twice. Also about the "the mother,...the child...the light...the earth...the sprout"
And finally the last sentence leaves us wondering about the difference between "unseen life" and another kind of life, the life you've described osmically, visually - the while-I'm awake-world - is not the only life around us, not the only world in which we live, not the only important world. But what happens at "the sprout of dawn?" Are we blind to that "unseen" world? You have parlayed the day/night, mother/child, light/dark, known/unknown, life and death against one another. Very interesting use of these contrasting yet connected concepts.
Life from The Stoop - a spot from which many an author has noted that good observations are made.
Well done.
Happy New Year, Mell.
Tom
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2003-12-30 15:41:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.95238
Dear Mell,
It all comes back to the stoop doesn't it? The perspective from the stoop is always awe inspiring,
yet down to earth. Talk about the true simple pleasures in life. Enjoy the sunset while watching
your child play and drinking iced tea.
Your beginning stanza reminds me of a song called "My Favorite Things" from the movie
"The Sound of Music" in a musical kind of way. All the things mention will pass away soon, but
for the child, who
Is anyone else hungry? :)
"Marmalade of gold with orange striations" is an inspired buffet of asonance in and of itself,
with both "A" and "O" sounds. The "I" assonace of "fresh-sniped mint" adds to the buffet and my
senses are already watering for more, knowing I will not be dissapointed by this Mell original
recipe. The "A" assonance continues with "array" and "face". We also have treats/sweet as
another course of the buffet.
All the things mentioned will pass away soon, but for the child, in whom the mother is carrying
on the cycle of life.
In stanza two you point out the mint sprig will be wilting soon. I like the metaphor of the
mint wilting like energy in the late afternoon as this is a great visual. The images set in
motion here are magnificent like the sunset you describe in stanza three. The allits of
will/wilt and light/lasts add to our sensory buffet.
There is yet more assonance with late/play and mint/sprig in s2. Then a well placed enjambment
separating a rhyme of tea/sea and adding to the flow quite nicely as we are pulled along
effortlessly, alot like sailing on a steady wind day. And speaking of sailing, I've seen some
gorgeous sunsets in our sailing exploits and the description here is every bit as inspiring.
The richness of color you describe gives this reader a vivd visual of the scene and makes me
taste it as well . I like the way you incorporate music into the piece with words, not just
rhythm, with the phrase "And so begins a tremolo of night's timbre, its color tone." What a
beautiful touch that is!
We go from the stoop to "stellar backdrop of cosmic curtains" which has an almost dizzying effect,
but serves to remind us the universe goes on endlessly , as does life. But in that momnet of
realization, we also see all the ways that God provides for us and how the cycle of life goes
on. To me that is what you are saying here in the last two stanzas.
cosmic/curtains is another of many allits and more asonnance with survive/side giving affect
to this big realization.
The slant rhyme of dearth/earth in the last stanza carries on the musical effect and again
with on/dawn for a superb ending: "unseen life goes on until the sprout of dawn."
My spirit has feasted with this one, Mell.
Thanks for thrilling us with all of our senses.
You're something else!
Blessings,
Jennifer
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2003-12-29 15:50:03
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.77778
Wonders never cease my friend and this poem is simply beautiful in strucutre, word flow, feelings, images, and love......a lovely tale you speak of within each line.....involving all of one's senses
invoking sights and smells as well. The title "The Stoop" fits this so very well and this reader is allowed the joy of seeing the mother and child sitting on the stoop overlooking the wonders of nature in both the atmosphere in which the night sky shines with spendor or stars and moon and the earth below which takes a peaceful rest come sunset......One finds a sense of peace within as the mother knows the word of God is felt there on the stoop as the earth will provide for all of their needs.
Come morning light a new sense of adventure begins thus the hope lives on forever within their hearts....
Thanks for posting and sharing this with us.....
Marmalade of gold with orange
striations, fresh-snipped mint,
crumbs from a mother's array
of treats, and a child's sweet face.
What a lovely opening stanza for this wonderful piece
Thank you again for sharing this with us, be safe my friend and I look forward to more of your work. God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Terrye Godown On Date: 2003-12-29 09:26:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80000
Wow Mel. I haven't been on here in quite some time, but I see you are evolving into a master of a poet. Your illustrious depiction of a cherished scene in time, brings out an abundance of flavors for the mind's hungry palate.
The pivotal part of the poem is presented in this simple line, stated with a sense of peace, appreciation and sentiment. "And so begins a tremolo of night's
timbre, its color tone"
It then propells the reader into a greater realization of the inspiration here. Using words like "stellar"; "cosmic"; and panorama are very effective tools for lifting the reader instantly into your loftier goal here. Even though the last lines are in fact split betwee the 4th and 5th stanzas, they work together in complete unity for the finale here. "Fertile smell", "unseen life" and "sprout of dawn" leave the
reader with a sense of the hope, trust and familiar feelings that help root us and begin the process of security in life.
Your lines gracefully twist through carnal channels of the mind as a grape vine in spring, preparing itself for the scrumptious fruit it will offer.
Good job Mel! Hope your holiday was fun and peaceful!
Cheerz,
Terrye
This Poem was Critiqued By: C Arrownut On Date: 2003-12-28 21:04:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Mell, I certainly enjoyed this poem. Marmalade and tea--suddenly I'm starving. The way you weave the colors of food and drink into those of nature is absolutely fantastic. I could just see the late aft. slowly wane. Then on to the coming dawn, fertility of soil--all blending with the new life the child represents at the beginning. Such images tie all together and create the warmest feeling that the best things in life are the little daily enjoyments: tea, marmalade, children's snacks and play, nature in all her glory. What a testament to the glory and miracle of life.
Great poem and keep up the good work.
C. Arrownut
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sherri L Smith On Date: 2003-12-28 12:32:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.55556
Dear Mell,
What a wonderful homespun tale, vivid with it's imagery! It involves all the senses and is appealing
both in it's style and also the sights and smells that it evokes. The title "The Stoop" is an appropriate
one and a beautiful way to end the poem with the mother and daughter sitting on the stoop looking at the
wonders of nature. A sense of hope is there also and knowing that dawn will come with fresh wonders to see.
Wonderful work Mell, you keep getting better and better.
Love
Sherri
Hope you and Gary have a wonderful and healthy New Year.
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2003-12-27 21:54:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.67857
Hi Mell,
I was so pleased to see your poem on my list...I hope more of them
crop up, as well. This one is so fine...the imagery alone deserves a
reward. The first stanza is so well written that I can almost taste the
mamalade and mint...I don't know how you do this time after time..but
you do. In the second stanza you compare the wilting herb to the lack
of energy in late afternoon...perfect. In the third stanza you allow the
reader to see the a magnificent sunset with words like...persimmon,
cinnabar, grape-deep, tints of sunset. I especially like the idea of a
sunset having 'tints' such a simple word but the usage of it here is
exquisit. In the fourth stanza I am in awe of "a stellar backdrop of
cosmic curtains" another prize winning statement. The fifth stanza puts it
all together and continues the peaceful emotions that wrapped around us
from the beginning line...."unseen life goes on until the sprout of dawn"
I find the more I write and the more I read I am drawn to free verse and
this one is exceptional. I know I do not read enough poetry from the
masters and I should do that in order to hone my craft...or lack of it.
I find myself writing from my gut when the moment hits me but I am
determined to study more. I too fear that Chris will shut us down for
lack of interest and I wish all us faithful poets could come up with some
idea that will get more poets to join. If TPL goes away I guess we will
have to find another site but so far those I have visited have not measured
up to TPL. I love this poem...I will look for more from you.
Blessings...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2003-12-27 21:54:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.67857
Hi Mell,
I was so pleased to see your poem on my list...I hope more of them
crop up, as well. This one is so fine...the imagery alone deserves a
reward. The first stanza is so well written that I can almost taste the
mamalade and mint...I don't know how you do this time after time..but
you do. In the second stanza you compare the wilting herb to the lack
of energy in late afternoon...perfect. In the third stanza you allow the
reader to see the a magnificent sunset with words like...persimmon,
cinnabar, grape-deep, tints of sunset. I especially like the idea of a
sunset having 'tints' such a simple word but the usage of it here is
exquisit. In the fourth stanza I am in awe of "a stellar backdrop of
cosmic curtains" another prize winning statement. The fifth stanza puts it
all together and continues the peaceful emotions that wrapped around us
from the beginning line...."unseen life goes on until the sprout of dawn"
I find the more I write and the more I read I am drawn to free verse and
this one is exceptional. I know I do not read enough poetry from the
masters and I should do that in order to hone my craft...or lack of it.
I find myself writing from my gut when the moment hits me but I am
determined to study more. I too fear that Chris will shut us down for
lack of interest and I wish all us faithful poets could come up with some
idea that will get more poets to join. If TPL goes away I guess we will
have to find another site but so far those I have visited have not measured
up to TPL. I love this poem...I will look for more from you.
Blessings...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2003-12-27 16:59:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84000
Mell--I like the view from "The Stoop." Great fresh color descriptors (marmalade of gold
with orange striations; ...a sea of persimmon, cinnabar, and then grape-deep tints of sunset)
provides such beautiful imagery.
Combinations of internal/partial/slant rhymes (treats/sweet, soon/afternoon, tea/sea, survide/
provides, dearth/earth, smell/tells) with alliterations (will wilt; cosmic curtains; tells
that) produces subtle melodious tones throughout the piece. Many glorious "sounds" bites, esp.,
"...a mother's array of treats, and a child's sweet face." ;"the herb will wilt soon like energy
in late afternoon..." (simile); "...so begins a tremolo of night's timbre..." (I'm adding these
two "t" words to my poetic word list-smile)
The enjambments between stanzas #2, #3, and #4 allows an unrestricted/uninterrupted flow (and
breathlessness). The run-on last line of stanza #3 and first line of stanza #4, i.e., "Scene
from the stoop:" sets up a turn/twist different from the previous stanzas: words which were
rather light, colorful, and filled with a certain energy has now taken on a sort of tension
(...at her side, the mother knows they will survive.../dearth/paucity). However, some redemption
regained through "...fertile smell tells that...unseen life goes on until the sprout of dawn."
These five stanzas of quatrains could easily be addressing the up and downs of life matters that
we all have experienced at some point in our lives (not just this mother/daughter). Your piece,
a superb read, gave me mixed emotions (it pushed and pulled me). I started out elated due to the
initial imagery, and ended up feeling a twinge of melancholy (which is alright-smile).
Thanks for sharing this effort and the vocabulary. TLW
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