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This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-09-26 14:45:41 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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When Trees Begin to Spill Their Color

A rippling sapphire pond still needs dabbling wood ducks and calling quail. Ring-necked pheasants run through tall weeds, sun’s rays gild straight, unswerving tails. Shy birds seek space to swiftly hide while brave ones flash in search of seeds. Ruby-throated hummingbirds glide, undaunted jewels in quest of sweet. Townsend’s warblers remain through chill, then flee with mates o’er olive hills.

Additional Notes:
Revised. Syllabic meter: 8 syllables per line.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2004-10-06 21:28:08
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Yes, you accomplished the count, but still managed so Octoberish what happens to the citizens of the wood, who show there colors (nice play off to saphhire waters), the leaves are beginning to change into beautiful hues here also, the poem speak to the sense of Fall (did you know I'm a October baby). so you warms the cockles of my senses, and remind us so nicely we share this planet with the beauty of the changing seasa and all this goes with it. Lovely Joanne, another wonderful testamony to our surrounds, How miniscule we are, when these birds have a sense of being, belonging. How can we possibly think we own this planet. Sorry Joanne, I've been really under the weather, and unable to witstand any time on the keyboard, but I wouldn't have missed commenting on this beauty. Once again....Love, Jo

This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2004-10-03 21:26:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.71429
Hi Joanne, Whatever the format is (from haiku to rhyming syllabications)…as always, you can deliver! And the result is often a standout. And this one is no exception! Again, your words bring color in lyrics, images and now the obvious rhyming and syllabication count. I liked how you detailed your subjects (like “ring-necked pheasants”) - for it adds character to the entire poem. And to detailed it with colors (as what you always did) like “sun’s rays gild straight”, “a rippling sapphire pond” and “ruby-throated hummingbirds” brings creativity to audience’s imagination. I also like the 8-8 syllabication count of the poem. What a great effort! In line 8, I believe “jewels” in pronounced as one syllable. I also like how the last line adds the “o’er” to fit the right count. It sounded classical. This is a well-posited poem with high caliber lyrics. Again, we are recharged with love of poetry because of your influence. Thank you! As always, Erzahl :)

This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2004-10-02 20:33:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Joanne, I confess: I skipped ahead. The imagery in this is just delightful! I love the symbiosis you suggest in S1, as the pond "needs" its complement of ducks and quail in order to fulfil its purpose. The color and visual beauty are worth little, without a use. In S2, the visual focus is the tail, with its diagonal line. This weekend, I've seen countless pheasants! They must have enjoyed a summer of plenty, and are everywhere - beside the road, in the fields, under apple trees. Their "gilded" tails are just as you describe. I love watching them run as if their legs are little, oiled wheels. In S3, you open the view to embrace opposites: the microcosm of the bird worl is also an imitation of our larger society, in which members can be either retiring and withdrawn, or bold and assertive. The latter attitude seems to yield the most seeds (profit). My favorites are the hummingbirds. I didn't know you had ruby-throats out there; that species is our only one. I'd love to see some of the others, though. "Undaunted jewels" is an interesting description because jewels normally don't have personal attributes, but in the mystical realm, gemstones possess their own qualities. I'd call a hummingbird an emerald/ruby combination; sure enough, emerals betoken strength (the Holy Grail was supposed to have been cut from an emerald that fell to earth from Satan's headpiece). And rubies protect against evil, as well as being the queens - Ratna Raj - of all gemstones. So who would be daunted by any challenge, if compared to such powerful jewels? I appreciate the wordplay in that last strophe, since the olive warbler is also a species, found in Arizona. In cold months, migration to that state would sound very enticing! Some Townsend's warblers do migrate to southeastern Arizona, which makes the pun doubly appropriate. Your scansion is, of course, syllabic rather than strictly accentual, since many of the stresses fall on varying syllables depending on the line itself. The rhyme is a treat. Closing with a rhymed couplet rather than the alternating ABAB is, I think, a wise choice. In the end, the microcosm's population shifts with the onset of winter. We have our own changing demographics; many retirees head for milder climates, much as birds do. Perhaps we're not so different, after all. Totally off-topic: are you getting an fallout from Mount St. Helen's, in terms of ash? I've been following the eruption with something close to awe; even a minor one inspires wonder at the powers unleashed from the earth. Gaia continues to breathe and mature, doesn't she? Hope all's well! Brenda

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-09-27 11:56:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.87500
Joanne–Your title is a wonderful fresh superb descriptor/metaphor for shedding trees. This is a “fowl” piece (pun intended-smile) with lots of wild birds colorfully presented in a terse post. The degree of difficultly for composing this type of rime can not be overstated. These five couplets excellently denotes natures natural charac- teristics displayed by listed game. Thanks for sharing this picturesque outdoor scenic Autumn goodie. TLW

This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2004-09-26 17:47:57
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Joanne, I like the way you begin this poem. It's a technique that I, myself, have been playing with in poetry. It's just poetic to begin a poem's title with "when." This is certainly a poem for the season that is upon us. You do a wonderful job of calling on all of the things that make fall "fall." It's very descriptive. It's hard for me to write description this well. You have paid very close attention to the birds, the trees and the breeze of fall. I think the 2 line stanzas are also appropriate. I think it brings out the scarcity of the leaves in fall. When I look at this poem, it's like looking at a tree where leaves have actually fallen, nothing but limbs left for the winter to come. I think this is great descriptive poetry; had to write much like this in my college poetry class. It's great to get away from the mundane of "life" and just talk about nature. Great job. There's a lot of alliteration and assonance throughout the lines of the poems, and that's also refreshing and makes reading about nature so much easier and delightful. Great poem. Latorial www.latorial.com

This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-09-26 16:03:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.14754
lovely, so picturesque I feel like I've taken a walk in the woods. And thats something I used to have the time for often, now hardly at all. I enjoyed the experence very much thank you.

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-09-26 15:25:31
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.71429
Hi Joanne, I am amazed that you wrote such a lovely piece and did it with 8 syllables in each line!! I think that is extremely difficult to do...I could probably do it but it would just be gobbel-de-gook. I have just written a poem about autumn but it pales incomparison to this one. I love the way you brought life to this piece with images of beautiful birds...I can honestly see them as I read your words. We have ducks, pheasants, & hummingbirds but I am not sure about the townsend warblers...if we do I am not aware of what they look like. We do have 'camp robbers'...I don't know their real name..but they are so fun to watch. They are mostly in the timber and they literaly swoop down and take food right off your plate also out of your hand if you offer it to them. We were always in the hills in Sept and Oct...it is so beautiful then...I must confess that I miss those days. My husband passed away on Oct 10 so this time of year has always been a little sad for me. This is a lovely poem...you never cease to amaze me with your talent! Blessings....Marilyn

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