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Below you will see ALL of the Critiques that Jane A Day has given on The Poetic Link.
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Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!Displaying Critiques 1 to 50 out of 72 Total Critiques.
|Poem Title||Poet Name||Critique Given by Jane A Day||Critique Date|
|My Hero||Kenneth R. Patton||Dear Ken, As always, I enjoy the honesty of your poems. I would love just a little more imagery insteady of long adolecent years. Could you show this? You paint a great precise picture of your brother and the idea of subterranan fears is great as well. I'd love to see some of these fears for more insight. Thanks as always! Jane||2005-01-31 11:29:59|
|Reader||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dea Joanne, You have had such a productive month! The longing captured in this poem draws me in. The last line is especailly good. A-borning and which cares not a all seem a bit out the the diction of the poem. The open really leads us in. I like very much being in the house as well as outside with you. Jane||2005-01-29 21:28:41|
|From My Backdoor||marilyn terwilleger||Dear Marilyn, I always enjoy the humor--the slight grin--of your poems such as in the lines rude growling howl of winter. : ) I think this poem is very good and just would like to suggest some tightening in places of the language. I see the lawn is brown now, embossed with patches of frozen snow as luminous as crystal jewels. (Do you need jewels? Can you instead say something about the crystals?) Summer has succumbed to the rude growling howl of winter. Gone are the warm zephyrs and sun bathed days and I (I like the line break here at I because it implies you are gone as well in some way) see a willful leaf is stuck to a lifeless tree. Cumulus clouds slide down the sky and collide with the (here you could break the line and collide and pick up your nice alliteration) pampero, determined to unfasten all clinging fronds. My tulip bulbs lie beneath like cadavers within their (here you could end at cadavers letting us really think on the image) graves blanketed from the cruel catarrh. I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead and (break at meadow?) flickering stars to light my way. How sweet the sleeping (I ;ove this line break--listen to those Ss!) moonlight will shine when spring begins to stir. Haze on )Haze on to next stanza?( far horizons will lift in the tender sky and the sun will (bring ripen up and end there?) ripen cornfields. Beguiling butterflies will adorn seraphic flowers and larks will fly on high. It is then my grass will return to emerald green and warmth shall sooth my unfounded fears that spring will grace my backdoor nevermore. (I think you could be more natural in your line here with never again rather than nevermore) You have done such an wonderful job with the emotion and the image in this poem. Thanks! Jane||2005-01-29 21:15:35|
|Yearnings Like the Lake's||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dear Joanne, This is lovely. Its what I have come to think of as your sorprano voice, if you know what I mean? I love the look of the lines and the long Ls. I am torn between wanting the poem to have a turn--to move forward and to simply meditate as it does on the one thought. I think I will hope with the mediation but the ending the las time with for leaves me feeling a little undone. I want you to sing one more verse--maybe all these elements recombine in the lake? My thanks as always, Jane||2005-01-29 21:05:56|
|Cloudy Outbursts||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dear Jo! This is fun! Rain bees and slicked back. Can you do thieves to get the bee rhyme? LOL. Jane||2005-01-29 20:55:59|
|Holocaust Memories||Latorial D. Faison||Dear L, This is an interesting poem about how we can gain true and meaningful memories through others and how we should never forget, I'd love the list of where you learned these things to be longer for rhythm. The right and left stanza is so stark and exact. So very good. I want the rest the poem to be as exact in its details becuase your title does much of the work of the last stanzas. Thanks so much for sharing this pearl of a peom. Jane||2005-01-29 20:54:17|
|On the Grief of Parents||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dear Joanne, I can't help as I read this poem to think of all the childern swept away in the Tsunami. I love the emotion in this poem but sometimes want to weep with you more exactly-- see the Christmas joys and the parties. The body images merged with death are so strong, I want the life ones to be as well. As always thank you for sharing. Jane||2005-01-29 20:50:30|
|Syncopation||Rachel F. Spinoza||Dear Rachel, I love this story poem. I want to hear the rest of the tale. The other poems. I know this couch and that dish towel. I love the sound of hiding things in the cymbols as well as the fact that "she" knows it will be found. I really love the rhythm of the moment you are painting and the music between them. I would like a little more about why he must be woken some urgency that seems to be coming in. I can touch something almost but I don't quite know. As is, its pretty but I there is one more layer--lightly put but darkly lit, you know? This is a pleasure to read. I keep rereading. Jane||2005-01-29 20:46:56|
|Where's a frog when you need one!||Lynda G Smith||The persona of this poem intrigues me. You mix the princess and the pea story with the Frog Prince tale. So, the question of the poem is what does it mean to be a princess? Do you have the power to feel the pea or to turn a frog into a man? And there seems a wish for proof here with the lines ache to ache with sensory pain, to evidence my living and my possibilities And hints that the speaker was once a princess. There is a memory of that. All of this being metaphoric, of course. So, is a princess simply those who deserve love? And really who doesn't? My favorite line in the poem is about the weight of angels. Thanks so much for sharing. Jane||2005-01-07 14:03:56|
|Old Friend||Latorial D. Faison||Dear Latorial, I very much like the idea behind this poem. I like where the hills come in the poem and give me a sense of setting. I would like more details like this. Where are we? When are we? Who exactly are these two people? I could more deeply engage in the poem if I knew more. Thanks you for sharing, Jane||2005-01-02 19:27:50|
|Cut and Paste||Mell W. Morris||Dear Mell, There is a wonderful stream of conciousnees in this poem that I just love. I also like the exact names, Mrs. Levy, and keep thinking about your images of blue in the first and second stanza. You take wonderful flight here. Later, when the blue-eyes artist comes in it isn't as powerful. I wish the last stanza had the same flowing thoughts as the first. In the opening it seems the poem looks closely and sings. As, we move down there is more of saying what you want to say rather that what nmay have come out if you had kept to the long lines. I really like this poem and have read it a number of times. Thank you! Jane||2004-12-31 11:42:31|
|New Year's Eve||Kenneth R. Patton||Dear Ken, So, good to see you still writing. I love this stanza Death speaks It comes in colors and tastes good I think this could be its own poem. I like the way you are working with structure in your poem. Jane||2004-12-31 11:37:27|
|THE KING HAS SPOKEN||Monica ONeill||Dear Monica, I enjoyed this singing to your cat. I wonder why so much poetry is written by just watching the way they move? I like the short lines and the sounds you capture as well as the in and out of the lines like a cat's swishing tale. Thanks!||2004-12-30 14:04:30|
|Black On White||Mark D. Kilburn||Dear Mark, I have always liked crows and ravens. I like to see them and think upon them as you do here. I love the listing of activities in the opening stanza. I wish for a list of what they are hunting for rather than the summing up word susteance. I like the concept of looking for sustenace. Could you add a list and then work in this is very exact word? The sustenance of? I am not sure you need the last line of the next stanza because the sketal and bliding images tell us so well already. I love the last two lines. Thanks! JD||2004-12-30 13:57:47|
|Abiding Winter||Joanne M Uppendahl||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.||2004-12-30 11:51:28|
|The Rectification of Names||Rachel F. Spinoza||Wow. You are really thinking a great deal about creation and naming these days. I adore the witty tone of the poem. But the ending stanza becomes about poetry and embraces what is made fun of and rounds itself again. Screaming sunset seems a bit loud for this section of the poem but the last few lines are so nice and I love the way this poem moves across the page.||2004-12-30 11:45:29|
|verse 67 (Jellyfish)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Dear E, I am so happy you are still writing haiku. I love your calling of the jellyfish by its other name that makes this poem not only about nature but about man. Bravo!||2004-12-30 11:42:09|
|untitled||Rachel F. Spinoza||I like the paradoxes of this poem--the small and the grand- the understated.||2004-12-30 11:40:31|
|Flower haiku #1||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dear Joanne, I love the humor in this poem. The offering of the flower center as to make up for being an even prettier blue than the sky. Yea! Jane PS I have a little time this weekend so I thought I would wander by and I am so glad I did to find this poem.||2004-10-16 13:31:37|
|Caprio||DeniMari Z.||Dear Deni, I always get excited when I see your name reappear. I enjoy the passion of your writing voice. The opening metaphor is the strongest visual images of the poems and roots it. The rest is idea or paced on the much used metaphor of our life as a path. I wanted how we blown into the world to be more exact that "old gypsy souls" and for you to build in specific language from that idea. You have a pleasure and engagment in the subject. I want your langauge to match your tone. Thanks as always. Jane||2004-05-20 21:30:05|
|Above the Well||G. Donald Cribbs||Dear G. This line alone my feet smell like wind stirring the water. in very funny but I think the lack of puncation or a line break at my feet on the above line would save it. Jane : )||2004-05-20 21:24:28|
|Summer Rain||Edwin John Krizek||Dear Edwin, I think this is a lovely piece with fine images. In several places I feel you overwrite and instead it would be a stronger poem if you let the very precise world you have created speak for you. I think also that stanzas would allow the poem the breaths and pauses you seem to be seeking. Summer Rain Moss in the gravel marks where (a great start) bumble bees float like butterflies.(do we need this line? I feel float is enough and butterflies is not so interesting a comparsion as to add meaning to the image) Soon the rains will come. Nurturing life-giving water from heaven will soak the earth (i feel you could cut to the verb soak and start the line there. The rest we have heard before and soak powerfully conveys your meaning) where the green leaves grow. Sensual, sexual jungle you live outside my front door. The birds call to each other and to me. I smell this jungle’s sweetness (can you use another word besides jungle since you have used it right before?) as I sit. Like a curious spider, I invade this space. (I love this line!) I do not belong here. But, if not here, where? (and these as well!) The old trees know everything. (a great turn in the poem) They tell me there is no more destructive animal than man. I, too, am responsible for my brother’s mistakes. I kneel in this thicket and pray for forgiveness. The rain washes me clean. I like the ideas of the last lines but is there a way to show what the trees know in image and then the powerful repsonsible line. The rain washes me would be enough, maybe more detqail of who, it flods my mouth and so on because we know the clean. Thanks you for sharing your work. I look forward to reading more. Jane||2004-05-20 12:47:46|
|Search and Seizure in the Ache of Day||Rachel F. Spinoza||Dear Rach, You aren't talking about me in the title are you? Search and Seizure in the Ache of Day They are dreaming (somehow I need this they more defined) in the peeling hallway hidden behind beams, dizzy with designing philodendron, Persian rugs, distressed oak. The man and women whisper in quick breaths while the motivated agent sweats in the aqua kitchen hot in her silk-lined blazer hot from hammering repossession signs and gloomy salesmen The manicured man bends his stiff suit picks up something shining – a diamond – fallen from the head of a unicorn – a diamond set in pink feathers and soiled dreams Phantom wings open bare cupboards something is singing perhaps it is a hinge in the vacant vestibule or the mangy calico kitten (poor kitty--even I how am a sucker for kitties think this is a tad too much somehow) left in the abandoned cellar without papers. I am intrigued by this poem sensing somehow it is about immigration. But I would like to feel this poem more, be immersed in it rather than an observer of anger and violation. Love Ms. Day||2004-03-25 13:58:47|
|Haiku||Andrea M. Taylor||Dear Andrea, There is something very seductive in your first line. Maybe is the multiple syllables at the front of the line and the stucco dance ant the end or the fact that we think Robin and then we get blooming tree. I love the body metaphor that continues with crocus cheek. I wonder if some how you could continue that imagery and be as concrete in the past line as well keeping the meaning up upping the impact of the language. Thanks! Jane||2004-03-25 13:54:57|
|Senryu 154||Michael J. Cluff||Dear Mike, Wonderful painting of a scene. I like the moderness of crows at a window. The absurdity of a doughnut on the inside ledge of the window. I am not a huge ecru fan and it seems out of tone. The last line is to die for. In those slick black feathers anger is loud and lush. OOOOOOO so good. Jane||2004-03-22 17:45:40|
|Political Senryu 4||Michael J. Cluff||Dear Mike, I think it would be very interesting to do a series of Spoon Rive type poems on Fontana. Thanks for sharing your reflections, Jane||2004-03-22 17:29:05|
|Undone's Mind||Cathy Hill Cook||Dear Cathy, I really like the name of the characters in this poem: Gush, Fried Beyond Season, Commotion, Notion, Undone, and Mad. I wish the poem was a lot longer so we could follow their adventures. Maybe a series of poem? Very fun rhymes and I very much like the rhythm as well. I also would like a little more concrete setting (an office) and details (descriptions) to really enforce the absurdity. Thanks so much, Jane||2004-03-22 17:26:25|
|Night Train||Emma Quinn||Dear Emma, Welcome to the Link! It is so wonderful to have new voices. This is an amazing poem. The allteration is matches the varying tones of the train as it rides the night. I love the commands at the end of the poem "breathe slow" that draw the reader in intimate relation with the poem. The title sings of Coltrane or the blues of Midnight trains to Georgia. Great verbs. This poem will stay with me in its blood deep tattoo next time I hear a train whistle. Jane A Day||2004-03-15 20:17:29|
|Watermarks||Mell W. Morris||Dear Mell, I love the title and love the narrative of this poem. Ilove each detail of time and space and person. But I have to say the line breaks drive me a bit batty. I love meaning in each line. The breaks at from and his. Waaah. I actually think at its heart this is a long lined poem where we sit with each unraveling. You say this was a response to a challenge. You wrote a lovely poem. Jane||2003-11-20 14:38:50|
|Soul Unattended||Annette L Cowling||Dear Annette, Wow. You sing girl! Very very powerful. I love your animation of the pine cones and the poignant but telling images of who the speaker is. The moonbeam image is less effective because all the others are so original--although I love the m sounds in that stanza. I love the declaration at the second to last. I think the last line and the title are not needed. Something like Unattended would work of the title. The soul is so clear it doesn't need to be said. Thanks, Jane||2003-11-20 14:19:29|
|The Boarder||Annette L Cowling||Dear Annette, This is a lovely prose poem. Thank you for sharing. I love the last stanza. The image of the streaking chalk is striking and I shall carry it with me through the rainstorm that is baring down on me even now. I shall look down as I walk the neighborhood to see if any childhood or hope is being washed away. The open reads a little like a the tone of the Awakening by Kate Chopin. A lot of drama. I feel cold and shut out a bit. I wonder what would happen if you moved the poem into the first person and gave use a hint at the language of the boarder vs the speaker through a glance at one of his stories. I sense a lot in this poem and wouldn't mind staying with them longer. Thanks again, Jane||2003-11-20 14:11:00|
|Finding Hope||Rick Barnes||Dear Rick-- Ohhhhhh. So good. I love the dour and scientific tones here (configured, fractal, Dormant) and then contrasted with the fragile language of hope. I also enjoy the sense of time in this poem of after the harvest. And the alliteration is nicely done in hold the heavy. Great little touches everywhere. This is an image poets have thought on endlessly but still it is one I always love to return to. Thanks! Jane PS. You line This is what hope looks like, is so solid and emotive. I am not sure such a telling title is needed. Then that line really rings as a surprise.||2003-11-20 14:05:08|
|A Fragment||Sandra J Kelley||Dear Sandra, I really like this narrative that turns surreal and yet real for the pinch. I see in the end a love one dying and taking all his stories with him. I love the turn for the third person to the I to the we. Great images of his disappearance. I wonder if the language of the upper section could be richer--more inviting--by adding snippets--just playful peeks--of what is being erased. That would balance the language of me. Thank you so much, Jane||2003-11-20 13:59:50|
|Border Clash||Thomas Edward Wright||Dear Thomas, So much of this poem is magnificent--it steals my breath. (Under the careful eye of the Hawk)I think here of Hawk as in Bush but I see the rabbit running though the field as the double. Northward we run Through and away from Fast and sleek in the Maroon coupe - (I see us fleeing to Canada, fleeing slavery--I see the car and am never quite sure what to make of it except the time period is now) The stark black earth, naked, somber as Wild turkeys stalk row upon row of once tall corn Past the last half acre of brown beans Over a modest river bridged long ago Iowa, your silo studded horizon mesmerizes While November, hung-over Pregnant with her first snow, threatens. On toward home. How fine, how proud, how safe that first broad lake This shallow valley, her wooded hills make us feel. The shame, with the cloud deck, lifts slightly. (All this so wonderful so precise--I can feel the cold burn my teeth) Gold scarves wave to an old wind, an old friend. (I don't get the allusion to gold scarves) The blood of war dries slowly. (a wonderful clear turn in the poem) Scars repair; yet remain and remind (I love the feeling here but have seen this image so often and what has gone before is mesmerizing. I wonder if another image can shimmy better?) Thanks for this gift, Jane||2003-11-20 13:56:15|
|Birth Right||Ken Dauth||Dear Ken, This is an intriguing poem to me. I love the turn of phrase scripted nobility. I like the internal thoughts and reflection here. I am not sure where to ground the poem. Germany? America, presently? I like the details of the sandy outline. Those mixture of thought and physical detail really enrich the poem. I would be more compelled I think if the poem hinted at a time and place--a single voice singing--or else it seems polemic and really I get hints of deep personal feeling here. Thank so much, Jane||2003-11-20 13:41:48|
|japanese verse 29 (Breeze)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Dear E, I wonder what kind of woods are these? Evergreens? Banyan trees? Elms? Ceder? I think if the oak leaves would turn pleasure then that last line would really sing its bliss. The metaphir is a bit strong with giggle and I miss getting an exact look at the woods to think about. I like this catarogizing of the breeze as light hearted. Thanks as always, Jane||2003-11-06 13:22:56|
|Dewdrop||Donna L. Dean||Dear Donna, I like the thin line of this poem-like the falling dew sliding down a blade of grass. I like how we follow the dewdrop with the speaker from the tree to the grass. you have realy caputred the beauty of dew as it becomes and unbecomes in the lovely simple langauge of this poem. Sometimes, the "its" are placed a little close for sound and the eye. I very much enjoyed this welcoming event. Jane||2003-11-06 13:19:32|
|Role Model||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dear Joanne, Here at the end of the month, I am just trying to get a peek at all the poems that were too popular for me to get a nice long look at earlier. this is a fierce picture. I love it. Spent flowers bent in mourning ricocheted off the porch, pots tumbling-- no posture of sturdiness left in them. So goooooooooooooooooooooood. I wasn't sure of the two word lines in the first stanza but this stanza really works. How free those fierce gestures, the giving up of what has been and leaning into what comes next. I love this stanza too but I am not sure what fierce gestures refres too--spider? flower? pot? And then the spider. Love it. Jane||2003-11-04 21:14:37|
|Sweet, Sweet Music (II)||Mell W. Morris||Dear Mell, I very much enjoy the tribute. I wish just a bit more time with each voice, each song, so I can get the full homage rather than a listing. You do a good job caputing the beat and twang of the music and I just want you to play more in the possiblities of each unique shimmy. There is more opputrnity for play here. I really enjoy the tour. Thanks as always, Jane||2003-11-04 21:08:43|
|japanese verse 27 (Will)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Dear E, I like the play with rhyme in this haiku. I want you to startle us in this last line--know no boundies is a bit of a cliche--maybe turn suddenly to a natural image you do so well. So, then we can think on ourselves in nature. Thanks as always, Jane||2003-11-03 11:29:50|
|Two Diamantes||Joanne M Uppendahl||Dear Joanne, My comments here are more about the form than the poem. Dan wacked me in for saying very little about his poem. For me, this is a great expercise like doing scales on the piano. I think it really tunes up the poetic mind. However, I think the poem would have to be beyond good to really stick with me over time. The things compared so diverse and stunning. I love especailly your verbs. I think much of the power of any poem rests (or moves) in its verbs. Thanks for sharing and engaging in this form, Jane||2003-11-03 11:26:47|
|Cycles (Diamante)||Dan D Lavigne||Dear Dan, I love the waxing waning lines. Its fun the way this form pushes the poet. Very clever. Jane||2003-10-28 12:52:30|
|Kite||Jordan Brendez Bandojo||Dear Jordan, The play with the words flying colors is clever as to come through with flying colors. I wonder what kites had to do with this expression. Thanks so much, Jane||2003-10-28 12:50:37|
|Drought||marilyn terwilleger||Dear Marilyn, I have been admiring this poem all month. It is such a painting of a poem. And the alliteration is lovely. It is quite dramatic but how can you not be dramatic about a scene like this? At the end, I have a urge to have the poem turn to the human, aknowledge the human that judges the scene--but I think we know she is there. Thanks so much, Jane||2003-10-28 12:48:25|
|R&R||Jeff Green||Dear Jeff, For reasons that are beyond me this poem is both very sad and very funny to me. Irony, I know is a foot. I tend to think irony is hilarious but this isn't that kind of irony. I love juxpostion of the modern deckchair and the ancient world Euphartes so gaurded by our jr high text books. The entry of women in the this mostly wmasucline scene of war is startling. It will definately make my best list. Thanks for sharing. J||2003-10-23 20:53:49|
|Hymn to Autumn||Rachel F. Spinoza||Dear Rachel, I love the disclaimer so we will not heap sympathy upon you. LOL. A friend of mine just turned 59 (Marsha). Personnaly I thinks looks HOT. She where great bright colors (the other day a bright blue) and has the lovely laugh lines of a well lived life. Anyway, she was remarking that when people call the news is of poor health and death. Its engulfing her a bit. I am in the baby and divorce stage myself. Ill health tends to be staged in a battle which is won and also lose. Anyway.... On a very personal and not very relvant note that has nothing to do with your truly lovely poem (can you tell I do not want to grade the papers in front of me? The sectoion of the prompt that asked my students to evaulated seems beyond thier notice lol.) I think it is a real pity that Autumn is associated with death. It is also the time of the harvest, of bounty. Anyway... to your lovely hymn.. a : a song of praise to God b : a metrical composition adapted for singing in a religious service 2 : a song of praise or joy Nestled in eiderdown, (such a lovely word and brings in the cold of the season) Flannelled and balmed, Autumn left quickly Sans rancor or blame (Sans? seems out of tone as does rancor--maybe I just don't like the sounds of rancor) Softly, the pavement Has dressed up in linen (so niccce--jealous) Embroidered in remnant Of twice-frozen rain (just love these metaphors) Go now, go swiftly, To the veranda, Tune up the piano, Drink cider and bloom Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh so good. This will be private: The dying, my darling This will be private, The dying alone Great ending. Thanks so much Jane!||2003-10-23 20:50:53|
|From Night to Morning||marilyn terwilleger||Dear Marilyn, You are doing such nice things with the images of the natural this month. So, the glaxay is the Moon's soft hands? I like that imageso f softness. The gases in the distance always seem soft and billowy to me. I like the idea of star path and giving glimmer. I would love to give something glimmer. Mountaintops sun's zenith--this line is a bit awkward in the mouth--I know what you are saying but my tongue trips.. I would love you to give the sun its equal time or its own poem. Well done, J||2003-10-23 19:42:00|
|Colors of Aah!||Donna L. Dean||Dear Donna, Is this a rewrite? I remember quite clearly the image of the olive oil. All that I said before is still true. The change to the orange is more startling. Pumpkins might stay in the softer tone of the poem more than jack-o-lanterns. I love the fall you have captured here. Thanks again, Jane||2003-10-23 19:37:28|
|I Ought to Autumn||Donna L. Dean||Dear Donna, I Ought to Autumn Intriguing title. I am not sure what quite to make of it. Autumn becomes a verb--somthing we do and this title somthing we ought to do. So much time into the calendar soon the straw colored light will be white. Time to start something new before the frost sets in. I love the image of the first staza. I can see it so clear. The hay color of havest. I would like to start with the immedicany ofSoon the straw colored light and leave the abstrat of calanders behind. Remembrances of long walks and echoes of voices and trails walked on before. Time is moving on as Autumn, the weight is heavy. Lovely--you bring in the sound here. Bared by straw colored light strong limbs with twigs, upon which birds sit in oak and spruce. I love the light as actor here. It has been many years since a flame. The horizon of lavender and yellow streaks the sky with new possibilities to ignite. I hear I assumer there has been a fire and now this sun rising or setting remembers the possiblities. As the rain drops on dead grass and crisp leaves, new sounds and senses are stirring and my mind is yearning. Nice interalization of the season. The cliche--"nothing ventured nothing gained", picks up with the wind which blows hard right about now. I should accept his invitation to go out let my defenses fall as the leaves brown and golden. I love this merging with nature. Lovely. Thanks so much, Jane||2003-10-17 15:15:15|
|japanese verse 28 (Rose)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Dear E, This is lovely. The scond line is wonderful. Great metaphor. Somehow I want to avoid naming it like wine or change the last line so it doesn't push the metaphor to the breacking pointing. I want to savor the image of the rose this way. Thanks as always, E||2003-10-16 12:40:17|
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