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Picturesque it hangs there far away but close enough to touch a golden orb in October’s heaven I let the light enter and scrub my mind free of my broken fortress that makes old defeats look picturesque |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2012-10-20 13:59:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
cheyenne, I looked at a similar scene, early each morning about he middle of October. The moon seemed particularly siren like this year. Maybe it is me, maybe it is not.
The words written, - It hangs there- is about as enlightening as the image itself. Your ensuing relative location, moves from external to internal- and are feelings of reciprocity that is often felt.
For me, I wondered why I haven’t conversed as much as in my more needy days- certainly the –free- that is ceded is as powerful! Then again, much like God, I hedge the grievance with amazement and wonder that I wasn’t missed and contacted as well.
-broken fortress- makes the reader look again at the universality and constancy of the vision as viewed, later as once before. I don’t know, or I do; and old defeats- I have often yearned for the uninhibited passions associated with a wilder time. –Picturesque- now there is both the cogitation and the repertoire. There is a lot of soul in this piece.