This Poem was Submitted By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-06-14 21:48:59 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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THE PAISLEY WINDOWS

Locked in white walls of winter and holding my frozen breath, I dream of paisley spring windows  with odd green patterns of leaves and myriad hues of watercolors, rainbows, lilacs, tulips, violets and milk-less robinsí breasts. Earthís warm heart softens and yields the worms of life crawling up from a winterís grave and fields unlock their daisy, crocus and buttercup prison cells. Impatient years of sun push into drifts and piles of snow throwing out the frozen moisture that was inhaled from the air and withered the furnace lungs. My arid breath is locked in white walls of winter and imagines paisley windows of spring with buzzes of insect business, displays of dandelions and daffodils and ruby maple buds. Frozen dew escapes and creates thunder clouds, actors rehearsing stage west for another play. The sun awakens in lakes where the moon-man sat yesterday staring at his icy plate. Hornet and bee charades hum in paper houses with no paisley windows. Mountains with wide hearts and white hard-hats cling with strong purple fingers to a disappearing dream. The winter ghost and I walk beside a huge granite hearse with my fat balloon of sins, and Midas laughs at his fantasy as I eat a last supper with his gigantic golden spoon. Holiness is in the dictionary of someone elseís soul near holistic images of their sins, not mine, which ran into the woods with Robin Hood, prince of thieves.

Copyright © June 2004 Wayne R. Leach


This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2004-07-04 08:25:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Hi Wayne, This is my new fav of yours. The images are so clear and crisp. Even the title is image-filled. There's alot to love here, but I especially enjoy: The alliterative metaphor "white walls of winter". All the "S"es give a whispery effect. When I read "myriad hues of watercolors" I thought of that movie with Robin Williams called "What dreams may come", and how he splashed around in vibrant watercolor. "milk-less Robins' breasts" is great! This particular phrase just blew me away: "Mountains with wide hearts and white hard-hats cling with strong purple fingers to a disappearing dream."--love it! And then I got to the last stanza which I wasn't expecting. WOW! Seems up to that point I was thinking this was solely a nature-poem. I had to go back and read it all over again several times because it is so much more then that. Should have known better, huh. Anyway, I enjoyed it immensely and can't wait to see what's next. Thanks for sharing this. Blessings, Jennifer


This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2004-07-01 14:01:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.17857
Wayne, My "fat balloon" always seems to find helium, and rise again. E tu? Or is the balloon now grounded, and the halo in place. :) You write many of these dense, descriptive poems. Sprinkled with spiritual observations that make them much better than the eye. Not my style of poetry, but well done. Zeppelin
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-06-22 18:14:40
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.73333
Dear Wayne, I have to confess that I am so depressed that I didn't write this poem! You have read enough of my work to know how I love to write about the beauty in nature and you have certainly personified that beauty here. The images you paint and the descriptors you use are just amazing. At the end of each stanza I expected 'the end' as I did not think you could carry on much longer making each stanza better than the last but you did. 'locked in white walls of winter' is a subperb way to begin this piece and it just gets better. 'I dream of paisley spring windows'...lovely to say the least....'yields the worms of life crawling up from winter's grave'..you have even made a thing as ugly as a worm sound pretty...not an easy task. I love the way you list the spring bloomers as in unlocked fields...the idea of fields unlocking after a long winter is inspired...'frozen moisture that was inhaled from the air and withered the furnace lungs'..amazing...'my arid breath is locked in white walls of winter'....how I wish I had thought of such a thing!..'frozen dew escapes and creates thunder clouds..actors rehearsing stage west for another play' and this....'the sun awakens in lakes where the moon-man sat yesterday' that has to be my favorite line...'mountains with wide hearts and white hard-hats'...no I take it back that is my favorite. Then the last stanza becomes somewhat refelective of your own life or situation and seems sad after such a splendid display....'my fat balloon of sins'...I feel pathos here and I don't want to. But then....'holistic images of their sins...not mine...which ran into the woods with Robin Hood prince of thieves. I did manage a smile at that last line but the feeling of sadness stays with me. This one will be at the top of my list as I find it to be the best yet of your work...don't ever stop writing as you have such a gift to share. Peace....Marilyn
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