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This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2003-09-19 19:30:42 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Splendor in the Pages of a Book

Just a simple book selection, black in color, paper bound-- ample leaves for my reflection, graceful symbol of our bond. Grandpa’s gift to me that day -- a dictionary of my own -- began in an engaging way to furnish keys for gates unknown. Its pages took me further than all domains I’d known before; they offered up far-reaching spans, and diverse meanings to explore. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil. Complexity of resonance, words connect from soul to soul. Written thoughts have permanence; terms can break or make one whole. With the simple gift he bought, he gave me much more than a book-- love of language can be caught, and this inoculation took!

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2003-10-07 23:05:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.45098
Is the book the bible for your words indicate it is at least to this reader. What a gift he gave you the words that open the heart. If I am wrong let me know for that is what I saw. You always use such excellent words within your poems and take objects and give them life. Well done. Tom

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2003-10-06 12:36:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.47826
Joanne, Now heres a poem you pass on to your grandaughter with a dictionary. Nothing like a family tradition! Little did you know how that one event would influence your life. The bond between a grandparent and grandchild is a beautiful thing. Grandparents can be such a special influence in a childs life. "Just a simple book selection, black in color, paper bound-- ample leaves for my reflection, graceful symbol of our bond. Grandpa’s gift to me that day -- a dictionary of my own -- began in an engaging way to furnish keys for gates unknown." It's obvious by this verse that you two did have a special bond. I especially enjoy the phrase "ample leaves for my reflection" "Its pages took me further than all domains I’d known before; they offered up far-reaching spans, and diverse meanings to explore. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil." Like bringing the world to your front door! Nowdays we use the internet for that more than I'd like to think. "Hallowed tool with which with toil" and it's a labor of love, you can tell. "Complexity of resonance, words connect from soul to soul. Written thoughts have permanence; terms can break or make one whole. With the simple gift he bought, he gave me much more than a book-- love of language can be caught, and this inoculation took!" And here you complete the thought by telling us just how special this relationship was and how he affected you for life in that one special gift. The thought that we can "catch" something good as well as bad stuff like virus and infections gives the reader a new hope! What a wonderful thought! I really enjoyed this one Joanne! Good presentation with the structure of 4 line per stanza and the A/B C/D rhyme scheme is is nicely done. Please never stop writing. Blessings, Jennifer

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jane A Day On Date: 2003-10-02 14:23:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.38095
Dear Joanne, This is a fun dance in honor of your grandfather and in honor of words. It is playful and use twist of language like inolualtion. It maintains its candence engaging the listener with a childhood rhythm. Domains is a little strange on my ear. Thanks for the fun, Jane

This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2003-09-26 00:20:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.20000
Hi Joanne, There are a lot of lessons, experience and information that can be learned from here! The title alone “Splendor In The Pages Of A Book” is already ear-catching! Addressing the “Dictionary” as “A Book” is new to me. Usually, it is the “Bible” that is address as “The Book”. Well, “A Book” and “The Book” is quite different. The authoritative and supreme nature of the Bible is fittingly for “The Book” address. And the safe and light nature of the Dictionary is fittingly for “A Book”. I like how you describe the physical feature of your dictionary in details and in nostalgic feel at your introductory stanza. And how it allows you to remember your “Grandpa” for a moment. I’m also entertained by your strict discipline on following an “A-A-B-B” rhyming format. And another “A-A-B-B” rhyming format at the middle of every line – I find this unique and creative. “I’m just a bit disappointed on some lines that didn’t follow the 15-syllabication format. This is just minor because line 4, 6, 7 and 10 just either exceed or less one syllable. What I like in the first stanza is the poetic phrase “to furnish keys for gates unknown”. This is lyrically done! In the second stanza, I like how the power and value of the gift “Dictionary” can bring and offer to a potential poet (like you). I like how you see the power of it in the phrase “they offered up far-reaching spans” --- it is like a map and compass and you are the voyager of discovering ancient development of “Hebrew”, “Latin” and “Greek”. In the third stanza, I like how you use the adjective “resonance”. Very dramatically appropriate! I like how you end the poem with awesome gratitude. The exclamatory point at the end of the poem effectively adds your passion. Kudos on your fine work here Joanne! Again, you deliver a beautiful “stolen photograph” of your good all “Grandpa” days. Thanks for posting it in TPL for I have enjoyed it very much! Another striking and inspiring performance! As always, Erzahl :)

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2003-09-22 12:59:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne, I hate to appear such a dumb-ass, but after first reading I thought this was about the Bible. Of course, I always read your works several times, so, on second or maybe third, fourth, or fifth read I managed to trip over, "dictionary". "I'm such an idiot", I laughed. But then I realized something. This is about a Bible. A Bible of no mean importance. A Bible I thumb through every day, some times never getting where I was going because some other passage, stumbled upon along the way, took precedence over my original destination. This work is such a magnificent and fitting tribute to a book without a plot. A book we all, at times, take for granted. When I stop and consider the formidable task of actually putting a dictionary together I am amazed that anyone had the fortitude to complete such an effort. It is easily as awe-inspiring an accomplishment as the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Well...here I am going on and on again, when your poem says it all so much more thoroughly and beautifully. "furnish keys for gates unknown." Words are the textual mathematics of the universe. You so eloquently state how they prepare us for, and help us to understand, the mysteries before us.. "Its pages took me further than all domains I’d known before; they offered up far-reaching spans, and diverse meanings to explore. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil." This should be printed on the first page of every dictionary. "Complexity of resonance, words connect from soul to soul. Written thoughts have permanence; terms can break or make one whole. With the simple gift he bought, he gave me much more than a book-- love of language can be caught, and this inoculation took!" What a gift indeed. My father gave me Plato's "Apology" for my tenth birthday. Everyone thought it such an odd gift. I suppose I did as well at first, but that simple gift has never stopped giving itself to me, much like your grandfather's gift to you, and now, your gift to us. Thanks Joanne! Rick

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dawn Parker On Date: 2003-09-21 14:31:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Joanne, I can feel the deep gratitude you have for your grandfather and his gift in this poem! Reading this poem gave me chills...the love of both words and your relationship to him is so evident. My great grandmother inspired me as a young girl with words but in a different way...she was a crossword puzzle guru and she would let me pick any word in the dictionary and challenge her with the meaning and spelling...she NEVER missed one! We would sit at the table sipping hot tea with milk and honey and nibbling on crisp gingersnaps...oh the memory you triggered! It was so fun exploring that book trying to stump her. My love of words grew from this very enchanting relationship. Just a simple book selection, black in color, paper bound-- ample leaves for my reflection, graceful symbol of our bond. Grandpa’s gift to me that day -- a dictionary of my own -- began in an engaging way to furnish keys for gates unknown (Yes, a dictionary is so ordinary looking but my... where it can take us! You bring my awareness to the power that such a mundane looking book can deliver...unlocking doors to enable expression of the deepest part of ourselves. We who embrace words are fortunate in that we can express a depth that has been experienced or perceived in a way that those without this tendency are left holding it inside or just expressing a shallow breath of the emotion. I especially liked "Selection-reflection" they rolled off my tongue as I spoke the poem outloud!) Its pages took me further than all domains I’d known before; they offered up far-reaching spans, and diverse meanings to explore. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil. (Many times I have sat down with a dictionary and just explored the pages for interesting words and their roots. You make the reader conscious of just how diverse and rich our language really is. Your rhyming is extraordinary and delighful! I am reminded how we so often toil to say something just the right way (this critique included:-)) Complexity of resonance, words connect from soul to soul. Written thoughts have permanence; terms can break or make one whole. With the simple gift he bought, he gave me much more than a book-- love of language can be caught, and this inoculation took! I loved the "caught-inoculation" word play and "resonance-permanence" rhyme was excellent! The incredible might of the pen is reinforced through this stanza and reminds the reader of the integrity necessary in using them. This poem was so well crafted and such a pleasure for me to read. I can not see anything that needs changed or enhanced...from beginning to end the words captured me and propelled me to read further. You are a gifted poet, thank you for sharing this Joanne! My Best, Dawn Parker

This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2003-09-21 13:25:31
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Good heavens, hexameter! What a surprise and delight ... this is so hard to work with. The linking of book to communion between souls is very well-supported; passing the Word from one to another reminds me a little of Genesis, when "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God ..." and so on. Grandpa handed over some of his essence by sharing with you the gift of language, as he so clearly wanted it to be given. This is a poem about legacies, that explores the way we grow through some special influence, when we're young enough to be affected by it. Some grandparents might offer physical labor, or music, or the ability to sew a fine garment ... this one hadns down his appreciation for the tongues that every nation cultivates. Just a simple book selection, black in color, paper bound-- ample leaves for my reflection, graceful symbol of our bond. Grandpa’s gift to me that day -- a dictionary of my own -- began in an engaging way to furnish keys for gates unknown. "Simple" is deceptive because one might call the Bible simple, or a star against the night sky, or a ripple of river water. Yet in the simplicity lies clarity and purpose. "Ample leaves" refers of course to the paper but I think automatically of tree leaves, too, that spread outward and provide shelter and, yes, Knowledge (as in the Tree of Knowledge). "Gates unknown" imply a voyage into a dimension where Ideas reside, within the spirit, which is liberated through reading and imagining. Dictionaries are all about possibilities. They contain words we don't use and may never have heard. Its pages took me further than all domains I’d known before; they offered up far-reaching spans, and diverse meanings to explore. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil. Given today's Net-lingo, "domains" can assume a very topical meaning, as we search for information on a dizzying array of sites. Yet you intend it to refer to kingdoms and territories that can be reached only through mind travel, as we sit back and absorb details about them. "Far-reaching spans" is a lovely way of expressing the journey and all those magical destinations (yet we remain grounded in our own reality, as bridges span uncharted waters but firmly connect familiar shores). Etymology is exciting to trace; I'm not surprised that you do it, too. Word origins join us to the ancients and we become one vast family that extends back beyond human history. I appreciate the metonymy of "born in different soil". Beginnings are always remarkable; how did someone choose just this combination of sounds and letters to name just this one thing? Do you ever speak a word and then wonder why it sounds like that, and how it came to be used? It must be awful to suffer a stroke that removes language skills! The meaning becomes detached from message and we can't associate something written with something spoken. I can't imagine that! Complexity of resonance, words connect from soul to soul. Written thoughts have permanence; terms can break or make one whole. With the simple gift he bought, he gave me much more than a book-- love of language can be caught, and this inoculation took! "Resonance" arises from vibration and we each have our own vibrational frequency, determined by the energy we bear within us. We transmit our signatures through aural contact; I can tell a great deal from the timbre of someone's voice, and no doubt you can, too. "Written thoughts have permanence" is so true. Sadly, people donm't write letters anymore, except for emails and memos, and that wealth of personal history is gradually diminishing. However, we commit words to paper when composing poetry, fiction, exposition and other texts. The person with the clearest understanding of language nuance will be the most successful communicator and this may well equal power on a larger scale. I love the playful metaphor in the final two lines. It's also a bit ironic, since normally an inoculation is used to "prevent" communication of a condition, not to enhance the process. So it's a neat twist to have the love of language be conveyed via injection instead of having the injection confer immunity (and maybe illiteracy, or at the very least, absolute pragmatism). This is a warm, gently humorous reflection on the impact of a single gesture. I'd guess that your whole family on your Grandfather's side is a long line of bibliophiles. You're obviously doing your part to sustain this ability and keep it going. This is the only poem of yours that has shown up on my list - and very far down, at that! It's not done in the style I'd expect from you, which is another indication of your own range and versatility. I will leave it with a big grin, and a sense of gratitude that you've been given this heritage. Without it, I might never have been able to read your poetry at all. My Best Always, Brenda

This Poem was Critiqued By: Andrea M. Taylor On Date: 2003-09-21 12:58:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.10526
Joanne, This piece is a wonderful expression of love and admiration for your grandfather. I was blessed by it to stop and remember my own grandmother's influence on me. She was an avid reader and taught me to view the world with words. It isn't the same, but the end results are quite similar. I truly enjoyed these words as a catalyst to my own memories. To me, the bound, bond lines are a bit off, but the intend weighs more than the verse. The soul/whole pair seems forced a bit. Maybe something like, Written thoughts have permanence to make of break the whole...some how the thought seemed a little overstated. Only an opinion. Lastly, I thing the "with a simple gift..." line, you could drop the "he bought" and it would still work well. This is merely an observation and only a look from these eyes. Either way the spirit of this read is well worth the look. Andrea

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2003-09-20 11:42:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne – how about simply : “ Splendor in the Pages” Which would add a little ambiguity to the title? I love this tribute to your grandfather. It was my own dear father who gave me that particularly wonderful gift. Just a simple book selection, black in color, paper bound-- ample leaves for my reflection, graceful symbol of our bond. Grandpa’s gift to me that day -- a dictionary of my own -- began in an engaging way to furnish keys for gates unknown. Nice lilting melody you have going here with good descriptive passages [no pun intended]with neat rhyme and near rhyme in a peasant aa/bb cadence which carries us along delightfully. Its pages took me further than all domains I’d known before; they offered up far-reaching spans, [-and] diverse meanings to explore. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil. Really nice flow Complexity of resonance, words connect from soul to soul. Written thoughts have permanence; terms can break or make one whole. [Yes! Exactly so!] With the simple gift he bought, he gave me much more than a book-- love of language can be caught, and this inoculation took! Yes...with such spendid results as this poem. Lovely piece, Joanne

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2003-09-20 02:11:29
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80000
Ah shucks, here I thought my Grand Pepere was the only one to have this similar effect on me. How wonderful it was his voice surmising what the future would hold, going to the moon, a box that would play pictures, unnamed for it was even in my teenage future. His radio, keeping him uinformed, he in turn talking to me, none of this lessons were lost on me, your Granddad giving you that first dictionary, opening up a whole new world, always something new to discover, and maybe it was the most opulate edition this was, but it was your passport to coming to a broad based understanding, that words, all have their point of origin, incorporated into the language called english. So alive, it made a wide vista of what it all meant, it gave insight, and understanding, and the basis to become the writer you have become, and still the application is worked on, oh the knowledge is there, but it's how we formulate that language, the arrangement of words that allow the deep seat expression that wants to bubble out. I think Granddad had great foresight, and he showed the path you would follow, to self satisfaction, allowing you to share those deep inner sensations, in the best possible cascade of emotion and sensation. Joanne, this isn't a difficult poem to identfy with, what I like about the intent is that it has a child-like quality that shifts into mature projection. It is elegant in it's simplicity, that alone shows the skill of the writer, to share a personal part of her life, and the role this man fulfilled. Do you suppose he looking down, with a smile on his lips, shaking his head, and mumuring, she got it, she really did. I think so, for there are Angels who have guided us since childhood, and still provide a mantle of protection, regardless of how old we become. I love sharing this thumb nail scetch of a man with great foresight, who provided that beginning tool, that started you on the path to becoming, one of the most talents, engaging poets this site has, the skill level is so obvious, and I would be the last person to suggest any changes, you have told a great story using the tools of a poem, the balance, and cadence, the style, and the intent is all there. Hooray, another wonderful submission. You write of subject dear to my hear, my Grandpepere, made me more aware of the world I was to live itm, and he even had a grand eye to the future (back then some people thought talking like he did waas strange, but somehow he knew, he was a forerunner of what was to come, and the irony he was a farmer, eventually worked in an Arrow Factory as one of the first Desiel Engineers, there were hidden talents there, and he know, so did your Granddad, he did you a tremendous favor, and provided a most wonderful gift...Good going very personal, and entertaining, with that life message, many helped us in the past, sometimes we have a tendency to forget them with the passing of time, but they truly did start us on our way....Love always, Jo

This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2003-09-19 21:54:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Hi Joanne! Another pleasurable read. This smooth flowing poem of three verses, carried on a a soft and gentle rhyme scheme, speaks of your appreciation for what, in the beginning, seems to be the simplest of gifts but in fact turns out to be the key - holder to our quest for the unknown ( as far as language is concerned). Aptly titled, 'Splendor In The Pages Of A Book', speaks of the power of language, the resilience of words, and traces all this to the 'far-reaching spans' of a dictionary. Words, indeed' hold us together ('terms can break or make one whole'). But words would be rendered ineffective if they cannot be understood. I particularly liked the last line of the first verse. I pictured a young girl, confined to her warm cocoon of innocence, suddenly in ownership of a key to further her horizons, and the look of engagement and curiosity on her face. It is amazing what books (in this case, a dictionary) are capable of in terms of shuttling us through the unknown. Who needs rockets to quench our thirsts for discovery when we have books....and aren't they inexpensive? This was a very absorbing poem. It was especially satisfying to read a tribute to words - our oxygen. Joanne, as far as the rewrite of the golden leaf frog is concerned, I would have to say that I preferred the original take. I felt there was too much emphasis on the 'frog prince' in the - re write. It was good to have the 'frog-prince' as a passing reference. Duane.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2003-09-19 20:21:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.53488
Going back in time ....finding grampa sitting there perhaps on the front porch with black book in hand.....pretty little dimple faced girl sits down beside him taking him by the hand.......within his fingers she does she the shining black cover inviting thee she smiles at him, he winks at her and hands her over the book but first he tells her she must be very careful with it for it holds the world in which she will grow and come to love.........and now the story begins....love the opening stanza which sets the scene for all to follow the the term Grampa to me indicates a very wise man....does not have to be old but to a little girl of nine he might appear to be old in stature and years.......actually, it only takes a wrinkle or two, a little gray hair around the edges and grampa was old back then.......In the second stanza I can see you sitting there with black book in hand soaking up each word that you read and the meaning going straight to your heart........you were very smart for a little girl my friend........you knew that life was about to take a new road one that would lead you on a lifelong adventure....and you were the captain of this mighty fine vessel.......wonderful image projected to this reader....can't tell you enough.. Origins of words we speak, hallowed tools with which we toil, varied Hebrew, Latin, Greek; each one born in different soil. Can you imagine the places you must have visited while sitting on the front porch or under a large leafed tree in the back yard.......to foreign countries with all its magical wonders and mystical abilities......to see the Seven Wonders of the World as well...........and to think it only just begun...... From soul to soul.......indeed from your grampa's soul to your his gift of love has brought you to where you are today and still my friend your adventure shall continue for there are many more roads for you to travel in your wordology......now you won't find that in your dictionary nor will I.....but it is a road for you alone to take.......and then once there you will come back and share with all of us......this poem has been an adventure from your heart to ours......not just mine but everyone who reads it will feel the excitement and love that lies within the lines alone with the history of one little girl and her grampa......I know he knew how much you loved him for more then just the little black book of course but especially for the love of wisdom and knowledge he shared with you that day so long ago. I thank you for sharing this with us.....I am so pleased to have found it today and I look forward to more of your adventures of not only today but yesterday as well......Be safe my friend, God certainly does bless you and yours, Claire

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