This Poem was Submitted By: Brandon Gene Petit On Date: 2006-03-10 22:50:29 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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The Intercession Let the night air singe my lungs
And greet me from the eastern fields…
Through which her steps will shortly cross
To meet me in this formal hour
Followed by a wily crew
Of those who’ve come to seek redemption
Refugees from dying days
Protectors of a life disdained
Her features damp in silhouette,
She lights a lantern scarce of fuel
Then opens up that yellowed book…
Its pages twitching in the wind
A silent joy is well redeemed
We hurry for the morning nears
Brave companions clasp their hands
United through a furtive chant
Winter voices hoarse and hollow
Rise and fall in quaint accord
Words derived from ancient text
Live again in frosted form
Break of light sends us astray
Dispersed just like a flock of crows
Out of character we shrink
Until it’s time to meet again……
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Copyright © March 2006 Brandon Gene Petit
Additional Notes:
Appears in Brandon Petit's new poetry collection "Intrinsic Desires" - available through most on-line retailers (or order from your local book store) ISBN: 1420891995
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2006-04-07 07:42:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.69565
Your reference to ice as if putting the emotion on hold is excellent. Also like the reference to the flock of crows yet when I see them they travel all in one direction..just a thought. Especially like the use of lantern and silhouette in the same stanza gives a picture to the reader. You show love in its many facits here and that is well done and a joy to read. Thanks for sharing a well written love poem.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mary J Coffman On Date: 2006-03-30 08:34:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Brandon,
This is esquisite, my friend! Love the title, it grabs you right in, immediately. I'm just learning about meter, and I love how you played with it here. The transitions are so very smooth, I didn't even catch it till the second time I went through it (okay, so I enjoyed it.. :) ).
"Let the night air singe my lungs ....(Trochaic tetrameter)
And greet me from the eastern fields… ...(Iambic tetrameter)
Through which her steps will shortly cross
To meet me in this formal hour"
You repeat this meter change in a few of your stanzas: stanza one, two, four and five. Almost unnoticable, they're so smooth. This stanza drips with anticipation. I could almost feel myself breathing deeper, in eagerness, along with it. Wonderful way to describe the hot night air, as well. "...singe my lungs..." Excellent!
The imagery in this is astounding, and wonderfully descriptive. The picures you create in our minds are vivid clear, and complete. "...her features damp in silhouette..." I LOVE that line! What an image... Perfect. As one reads through this, you can acrually sense the gathering of the followers to hear her words, on a hot dry summer's eve, covertly in the darkness. I could picture the thin yellowed pages of a book in her hands, as the breeze tries to turn the pages. Your word usage is absolute excellence. Each one carefully chosen to deliver the scene/story with perfection. The meter is wonderful, and gives it a smooth flow throughout. Loved the use of metephor and similie, as well. What a true gift you have.
Thanks so much for posting, and sharing, my friend. I so enjoyed reading this! It goes on my winner's list immediately :) Bravo!
Always,
Mary
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2006-03-12 11:00:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Brandon,
How very discriptive this write of yours. This lends to lead my mind to Wiccan rituals, perhaps of their Samhein or Imbolc. However, being the time of season we are coming upon, maybe it is more intune with an Ancient Druid ritual. Never the less, often it has been the custom of those with beliefs different from what is considered the norm, to practice their beliefs in secrecy and far away from prying eyes. So sad that many, from all belief systems have had to suffer persecution and be forced to practice their beliefs secluded and hidden away. I really like your poem and can find no nit with it. Thank you for the posting.
best always,
Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2006-03-11 09:47:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.25000
This has an eerie quality and feeling about it. At first I thought is was about rising from the dead...some sacred ritual. But it is a ritual I can see these characters dancing in the round waiting perhaps for spring
and warm climes. The Eastern fields bear some significance here for the sun rises there. Features damp, pages twitching...what a wonderful use of language here. Right on.
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