This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-12-19 16:14:09 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Abiding Winter

Frog sends thin love notes  Upward through icy night air;  My heart returns them. As he’s now at work Warming an inhalation; I hear his stillness. Cooling earth does not Lessen his amphibian dreams Nor slow my heartbeat.

Copyright © December 2004 Joanne M Uppendahl


This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2005-01-04 14:51:31
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.14286
This reminds me of when I was young and use to go camping by a near by lake and deep into the fall when it was cool but before the first frost has fallen sitting by the fire listing to a frog singing out his from deep in his throat, I can see the mist on that lake and feel the low heat of the nearby fire as I read your poem, Why is it so many of your poems flicker my youthful memmories all I can say is thanks.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Wanda S. Thibodeaux On Date: 2005-01-02 14:26:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Dear Joanne, This is to be treasured once again as one of your splendid nature poems. I am always touched by the way you make it seem so personal, as if you know this frog...your dear hubby is okay, isn't he? You haven't twitched your nose and stranded him on some lily pad? These appear to be three Haiku but connected. It is charmingly written and gives a new visual to your camaraderie with nature. The word "Abiding" is one of my favorites so your title is special to me. I think of it as permanence, enduring forever. Your descriptives are captivating, you have evolved into a gracious and talented poet. How about mice? You've chilled us with spiders, charmed us with frogs, taught us about the birds, whales, the sea shore, and on and on. Now take us to the underground- of mice and more mice...ha. Bet you could. Congratulations on your yearly recognition. You are so deserving. Your submissions are always outstanding. Take good care. I'm teasing about the mice...but... My very best, Wanda
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jane A Day On Date: 2004-12-30 11:51:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Joanne, It is always wonderful to listen to your hearing of the world. I love the mixing you do here of animal and music--two of your favorite subjects. Thin love notes is a great image from each of its angels. When exact does a frog hibernte? This seems to be the moment just before we lose them until spring and you have captured it so wonderfully.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2004-12-30 10:13:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne, as always a piece that stirs the desires and beauty in the world around. There are parts of this piece that left me rereading and rereading, just to ensure the import of the simplicity permeated me. Abiding Winter – I have always enjoyed the world “abiding”. Too few ever use it and it is powerful beyond its initial impact. The waiting for a desired result, the tolerating of an undesirable (on the face) condition, a sojourn for knowledge and truth. A very powerful title, that contains, for the subject, a bit of all the meanings of the winter truths. Frog sends thin love notes – The compressed sound of a frog resounds a long distance, and it is the purity of its note that allows this. Whereas the multi-harmonics of a orchestra would be lost, it is the purity of the croak that allows it to pierce through for long distances. And love notes; I have often lain awake and listened for hours, the calling that draws me forward. Love notes indeed. Upward through icy night air; My heart returns them. – The crispness of winter I miss the most of weather, and to be where reaches the woods and the springs, leads me to the following day. Certainly, I have croaked both internally and externally, in return. I think after “freedom” and how it integrates to the spirit of the animal world, who unknowing the technological advantages of man, somehow persevere, and for the most part seem “contented” to do so. Yes, my heart returns, and yearns. As he’s now at work Warming an inhalation; I hear his stillness. – Joanne, for me it has not only been the bullfrog, but the crickets, and the morning birds, waiting to see the firefly reappear, or watching through the broken ice as another rainbow trout swims by, and there is that stillness, of soul and spirit, that, almost with the wait, breathes in unison, and exhales alike. A wonderful stanza, that grants me the warmth of creation. I think, beyond the “warming of inhalation” there is a certain, “warmth from inhalation”, that even the frog knows. That all the world breathes as he breathes, and listens as he speaks. Cooling earth does not Lessen his amphibian dreams – There is a real sense of tribute to the bullfrogs voice. To cold for mating, but dreamed of, too long a wait for warmth, but most make it, and a singular lifestyle that is interpreted in gadflies and larvae, but resounds in color. Those dreams are intrinsic, elemental, singularities, and sometimes, maybe often, I am envious. Nor slow my heartbeat. – Too little do I set aside all, to integrate with the fundamental beauty and mannerisms of creation. There are imaginings that I have which install the breath of bullfrogs in my soul, but I find it difficult to set aside the time worthy of the worship. Fortunately I have such great admiration for the natural world, that I too, never regret the beating heart that stands in awe, as I await the next gift. A beautiful piece Joanne, so much the call and the response.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2004-12-28 17:49:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.21053
Joanne, How wonderfully sweet and sensative. The frog calling for love brings to mind the sound of a crystal chandelier The trill being the sweetest most godly sound on this earth. Love is holy/man or beast. You hear his stillness/nice Cooling earth does not Lessen his amphibian dreams Nor slow my heartbeat.[great sensitivity] Your piece is most holy. One of Your best! you are one with the earth/mind/spirit/soul Brava to you.... Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sherri L Smith On Date: 2004-12-23 10:36:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Joanne, A beautiful little verse, I have missed your poems. Merry Christmas Sherri Smith
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-12-21 03:09:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne--Who but you would blaze a new trail? Triple Japanese Verse combo (WOW)!! And, of course naturesque themed (as I, no we've come to expect from such a lover of nature). I do seem to recall a few poems with frogs and your enamoredness of them-smile. For sure winter isn't my favorite season, but I'm enduring it just as the frog you've personified in this 'new wave piece.' Each stanza can stand alone as it's own entity, but would be open to many more interpretations (not a bad thing). Furthermore, the second strophe if taken out of context would be technically a Senryu. Another excellent display of vivid imagery from (one of, if not the best)TPL scribe. Moreover, you've limned some pretty incredible scenes recently in this genre,inspir- ing those of us who are looking to venture into Fixed Forms. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2004-12-20 05:11:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
JoAnne, I know my participation is sparce at best, but I want you to know I frequent these pages in hopes of finding you. I realize that you live in a complex world and I often forget that the universe is not arranged for my personal convenience. All of this said, coming here and not finding you reminds me of a journey I once took back to my old neighborhood in San Francisco. Everything was pretty much the same,(the city has a certain homeostasis about it),but Leslie's house was no longer there. I had shared many a long evening discussing this, that and the other right there in...well right there in what was now mid-air above a plot of earth that was soon to be the new Some-Thing-Or-Other. How I do on. Let me just say I have missed your familiar face as I pass by. In "Abiding Winter" we have those silences that you manage so well. Those spaces that the reader has to fill in much like the pauses for reflection that occur in the best of conversations. I have no talent for Haiku and have often sat in amazement at Erzahl's work. These three stanzas appear to be be Haiku, but then in the 2nd verse of the 3rd stanza you put in 8 syllables. If this was an oversight it is easily remedied by substituting "quell" for "lessen", but then we lose the softening feel. We might remove "his", but gone is the personalization that is lent to the verse by the inclusion of "his" and followed in the last verse by "my" that serves as the anchor of the the entire piece for me. It invites the reader into the author's observation in much the same way William Carlos Williams does with: so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. You and Willy Boy sure have a knack for leaving just enough space for the reader to snuggle-up right inside the work. It amazes me how you bring such warmth to this wintering work. Rick
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2004-12-19 21:53:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Joanne, What a love this is.It's absolutely enchanting! I don't know how you do it, but you have this knack for writing poems that make this reader feel as though you wrote them just for me. This is one of those poems. Frog sends thin love notes Upward through icy night air; My heart returns them. I can see these notes floating on the chilled air to where you wait for springtime. Your heart warming the notes and returning them. The sounds here are lovely with euphony of sends/thin/notes and also icy/night. This tweaks my heartstrings. As he’s now at work Warming an inhalation; I hear his stillness. Your "W"s whisper of him and you hear his lack of motion and noise. Only a true frog lover could possibly write this. Anyone other wouldn't even notice the lack of noise. But the true frog lover notices the day the music dies. Cooling earth does not Lessen his amphibian dreams Nor slow my heartbeat. Do you sometimes wish you could hybernate right on through the winter and wake up to the sounds of spring? This last bit is proof positive that you and frog belong together! *smile* I love this love song to the frogs. It's pure delight. Nicely done! I was needing a Jo Up fix, as you have been too busy this month to feed the hungry on TPL. Hows your editing going? Bless you for writing this! My Best, Jennifer
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-12-19 17:52:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
J.uPand aWay: I loved the little poem, song, and forgot to mention it until now. I plan to e-mail you later so now I'll focus on your "AW". I like abiding as an adjective for winter for abide suggests to me a staying, a blanket (don't ask why), a symbol of time treasured, a constancy in one place, a remaining as in a home. You can easily see where my mind is and how one word from a poet can mean a great deal more than intended. This is a perfect example of spare writing...all extraneous modifiers removed as well as articles, ajectives, adverbs. Frog sending thin love notes upward in icy air and poet's heart returns them. I now envision giant frog sitting on lily pad croaking his love to poet who hears them and her heart returns his song. CROAK! If I may quote from Seamus Heaney's "Death of a Naturalist": "The air was thick with a bass chorus. Right down the dam gross-bellied frogs were cocked On sods; Their loose necks pulsed like sails. Some hopped: The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting. I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it." As a boy, Seamus loved frogs so much he collected jars of frogspawn and kept them until they were tadpoles. He thinks at this scene that the frogs have returned for revenge. I am moved to post one of my favorite poems with yours for both share that deep, abiding love for nature and the music (and noose for naughty Seamus) they bring you. Middle stanza of connected haiku tells us the frog is busy now with work (you say not) but I know it is with frog spawning he toils. You say with inhalation warming and "I hear his stillness" is indicative of a bonding with frog not difficult to imagine where you are involved. I have listened my entire life but never heard the stillness of frogs. Exquisite, your majesty! Third haiku revealed something about this reader. I read this: "Cooling earth does not Lesbian amphibian dreams" Is your frog laden with an identity crisis? Is it not enough that he rises every day solely to serve his queen, serenades her with icy songs, but must abide that amphobic label?? And puting worldly burdens aside, neither does cooling earth redact his frogian dreams nor slow your heartbeat. Lovely ending that rewards as all good poems do. When we see a nature poem posted by you, I think all of us have a knee-jerk reaction: we may settle back and enjoy the world as we have never seen it. This lovely poem could be the reactions of a lonely person who communes with frogs better then with dull people (I'm not being personal) or the reactions of one with such fine-tuned ears for earth and environs, she can hear a Rana rustling under reeds or a Bufo bustling in the rushes. You've done it again and keep on doing it and while blank myself, this poem brings great joy to my beleaguered heart. And "they" wish to shut us down? Brava! to the enchantress with pen bepearled. Mell
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