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A Chruch Stands In the valley there stands a church old and downtrodden dry as a withered rose I wish to hear prayers inside its beaten walls whose steeple leans into time’s sigh and tomorrow belongs to yesterday A fickle breeze breathes on wizened heaps of bony weeds and broken clouds interrupt the azure sky with sounds of stillness I realize the little church still stands with splintered boards lined by strings of hopeful prayer stronger than any nail The path to a stalwart chapel is bolstered with thread whose binding strength depends on faith So it still stands unshaken and proud this little church in the valley |
This Poem was Critiqued By: David Keesey On Date: 2011-05-20 15:26:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
A fine poem and your use of imagery. I still feel there are too may juxtapositions in some choice of words. (Do I ever fail to criticize?) In the beginning it's "down trodden" yet finishes "unshaken and proud." While I always love a turn, I feel you have missed it slightly with choice of words and not going for fuller emotionally drain images. (Unlike you.) "Withered rose," while getting the image and emotion across seems weak and not befitting religious fervor or even quaint religious tones. Perhaps it's been over used for "withered love." Maybe an image of an old and worn out bible would be more fitting? Or the worn out overalls of a farmer's Sunday best? I suggest the "farmer's" only because you allude in the following stanza the antagonist of the farmer, "wizened heaps of bony weeds." Even the "broken clouds" speak of missed rain, a farmer's friend.
This has the most power in the piece:
of hopeful prayer
stronger than any nail
I so love to read your stuff and am impressed with your gift for imagery. I belive if you kept a theme more true throughout it would even be stronger.
kind regards