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This Poem was Submitted By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2005-10-17 16:54:29 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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My Old Sock

I own some leftover lilac memories so I placed them in an old sock safe from prying eyes. Some are sunshine bright, some somber, some serene like calm before rain, and some are misty lavender with whispers of shamrock. Yesterday I gave the old sock some tears and pain, but then I added some smiles that I stirred with indigo moonbeams. I drink deep of my own dreams and savor the innocence of peace that shelters my soul when I peek inside this old sock. My only qualm is the consequence of sating this unexpected trove. Where then shall I hide my lilac memories?

This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2005-10-21 21:24:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Dear Marilyn, Such a bittersweet piece, but written in a delicate manner, with deep sentiments that come from the heart and soul. Emotions are played upon in this poem, which creates a sadness throughout the verses. I love your fourth verse, and it definitely goes to the heart of the reader, it flows so well and ties the whole poem together. Reminising, can bring back both fond, and painful memories. If only we could sort them apart, and remember all the good. Also, when thinking back, it's a natural occurance for our emotions to rise, and leave us reeling a little. I enjoyed the way you have depicted our concious memories, and I'll leave you to decide where to hide them for now. take care, DeniMari

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2005-10-18 20:49:12
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Marilyn: I had to really look for this, as I saw your reference to it on the Forum. Just shows what I have missed the last couple of days! The title didn’t prepare me for what was ahead. An old sock seems an unlikely, surprising place to keep something as great as these memories! If I did that, I would never find them again, because the sock would get mixed in with all of my sentimental socks. You know, the ones you wore when… Eventually, even I have to get heartless and stuff them all in bag for charity without looking otherwise, there’d be no room for the ones I wear now. But you saved this one for us. I wonder if it’s a patterned sock, or a knit wool, or? The first line is grand! I like it ‘as is’ without moving onto the next. “I own some leftover lilac” reads compleat, even without the enjambment and sense of L2. Then in L3, you give us a multiple-meaning phrase “in an old sock safe” by itself says one thing, then “from prying eyes.” completes that thought! And yet, in writing the poem, you have opened the sock and dumped out its contents for us. I could go on like this, line for line, but I am going to jump ahead. Yesterday I gave the old sock some tears and pain, but then I added some smiles that I stirred with indigo moonbeams. I am undecided about whether the second line’s ‘tears’ rhymes with ‘years’ or ‘tears’ - tares. I decided it must be the liquid kind, but then, as in “old sock safe” it could be both. And I like to read it that way. I pictured you reaching into the sock and in doing so, tearing it as you tried to pull out the pains that were inside. Then I realize that you gave it your tears, and then imagined you wiping your eyes with it, a comfortable, soft old friend, like the sleeve of pair of flannel pj’s. I drink deep of my own dreams and savor the innocence of peace that shelters my soul when I peek inside this old sock. The sock as a container keeps its contents from becoming scattered or judged or examined by anyone but the owner. This is a lovely idea. I especially love “I drink deep of my own dreams” for the sound, for the permission the speaker gives herself to feel the feelings which belong to her. Some things are just not for public display, not for ‘reality’ TV or talk shows, only for private viewing and remembrance. My only qualm is the consequence of sating this unexpected trove. A philosophical question arises for me here. To me “sating” is to satiate someone with something. I am unsure if this implies that you could become tired of reviewing these memories, so replete that you might turn away? It may be that your meaning here is a little unclear to me. The question below implies that, in any case, you would miss the memories to which only you are privy. Where then shall I hide my lilac memories? The memories are more valuable because private, and if found would lose their value is my inference. There is a side to each of us that no one knows, will ever know. No matter how much is spoken, can be read from our body language or heard in our voice. It is the inner ‘I’, the unspoken, the treasure (trove) of what makes us who we are are as human beings. Thank you for this lovely poem, which empowers us to recall our lives with reverence and to keep some things only for ourselves. Very graciously done. My best always, Joanne

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2005-10-18 01:25:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
marilyn--Starting with the title, a myriad of metaphors employed in this entertaining post. Vivid imagery abound in this rendering of life experiences. The read is as eclectic in its emotions as is the "lilac memories"/contents of "...Old Sock." We all should have such a place to tuck away our most private concerns. Hopefully, your "storage facility" (smile) will stretch forever to accommodate any and all treasures you might acquire. Thanks for providing TPLers an identifiable interest. TLW

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-10-17 22:17:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Marilyn, This well structured easy flowing piece just sings to me. It reminds me of times when life was a bit slower, small things were more important, ah yes even more romantic. What a wonderful nostalgic journey you’ve created with your sweet verbiage, now I want an old sock to store treasures such as lilacs and moon beams in. I especially like your closing line, “Where then shall I hide y lilac memories? “ This poem is so soft, romantic, reminiscent of Victorian Ladies and the quality of life. Thank you so much for this delightful sensitive writing, kudos my friend, well done. Bravisimo! Warmest always, Lora

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-10-17 17:44:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Marilyn, I like getting your thoughts more fully than the short few liner poems. You use the old sock like a photo album of memory smells..... The smell of the lilac when.........lavender when......etc. The smell of the person, the smell of his sweat, cologne, smells are mighty memory joggers. Yesterday I gave the old [his sock probably] sock some tears and pain, but then I added some smiles that I stirred with indigo moonbeams. I drink deep of my own dreams and savor the innocence of peace that [the joy of living/loving him] shelters my soul when I peek inside this old sock. Put the new memories with the old.......together, inside the old sock where all memories belong. Great...loved the personal emotion and smells. Dellena

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