This Poem was Submitted By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2014-02-18 13:42:29 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Within Deep Provence

Let the rain come  let the night’s heat burn  deep the memory  And with final breath  let lips speak clear  heart’s prayer  Let the wind blow  let the cloud gather the last tear  locking it inside  Just as sleep before birth  let all things according to their time  slumber in the moment scant  A rest of peace

Copyright © February 2014 Lora Silvey


This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2014-03-01 11:39:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Lovely, gentle and oh so relaxing. Could be a modern day mantra for those looking to soothe a busy mind.


This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2014-02-25 17:08:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Lora, This is such a graceful poem with disciplined structure that only a true poet can put together with bringing out a very clear and concise emotions through to a reader. Very touching and relaxing piece that captures the sort of peace I believe anyone would want to find. All of the verses are wonderful but the 3rd verse stands out - I enjoyed this so much, blessings Deni
This Poem was Critiqued By: Terry L Krieg On Date: 2014-02-24 19:50:07
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Very good. The whole effect makes me want to sit under the stars and pull the night around me like a blanket!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2014-02-20 13:43:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Lora it interests me deeply, the “sleep before birth”, but the substance of finding and appreciating each moment of treasure and rest is compelling. “All things according to their time”, the wisdom of Ecclesiastes; or maybe history, or maybe just because it is; rings not only for the appreciation of peace and rest, but of forgiveness, and acceptance even when neither may be easily apprehended. “Deep the memory” makes me think of trees, but also resound a little with “the last breath”. I am not sure your entire theme is met my me; however, what is, is, and oddly enough, it has come after some rereadings and “in its own time.”
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