This Poem was Submitted By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2008-02-11 15:20:51 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Not Particular
Winter’s dirge stretched
tight across a blank sky
and snow wrapped around
suffocated light.
Birds tangled in nests
voices silenced by frost.
Clouds spotless and flake laden,
hanging, waiting to slip in quilted air,
sun stares until they flit
and become a dream.
Gleams of light gild bright puddles
Loosened are edges of icy streams,
quiet waters pulse and crawl below.
A lone robin struts on spindles for legs
and grooms his sienna tufts.
Tips of tulips mouth their spring kiss,
sun softens winter’s long robes of snow.
Heaven glances, winds warble in
pitch nearly perfect.
There is pure exhilaration when springs flares,
even if it’s not particular at all.
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Copyright © February 2008 marilyn terwilleger
Additional Notes:
This poem was posted here a year ago. I have so many credits and have decided I need to use some of them. Some may not have read this one.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2008-02-23 18:25:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Not sure if I had the pleasure to find this one when it was last posted but I am certainly happy I did this time. Very nice presentatio, again your words bring forth a spectacular picture and one can see the flowers in wait to burst and those that are bursting forth.......saw a robin the other morning though we have had a foot of snow since. Those poor birds........no wonder they come to the feeders all year long.......and probably wish they stayed in the south a bit longer. I love the sounds of running water that have also been presented within the lines......January thaw........we are still waiting for it to arrive here in Tully. Thanks for posting, God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rene L Bennett On Date: 2008-02-15 21:56:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Well, I am glad you reposted it. Beautiful. Tips of tulips mouths...breathtaking. I hope soon to write with such metaphors as everyone else here seems to. I feel my writting is so inaduquate compared to all others. Everyone here, you included are such beautiful poets.
Always,
Rene'
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2008-02-14 22:39:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Yes Marilyn,
wonderful kincaid picture of spring...and I like the, "Gleams of light gild bright puddles" the wording is perfect. I can all but smell the thaw and hear the robin. Brava!
Best,
Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2008-02-11 17:49:06
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Marilyn,
Some fine lines here.
What I've noticed from your poetry is that you submerge your reader right from the beginning. You immerse the reader right away in the universe of your poem, and you do it so that the reader feels like they've always been there, that it's home. I think you create that effect by having no introduction, no tip as to what's coming; you just begin the actual poem as if it's about 10 or 20 lines into some imaginary poem you've already recited or written - yet the reader "gets" it and feels totally natural, as if he or she didn't miss anything. That's because the language is actively, powerfully descriptive and direct. I nice way you have of starting poems.
The danger with such descriptive writing is that such poems, I think, must remain short. If that type of thing goes on and on, one feels like one's being forced to become a naturalist against one's will. The enwrapt and absorbed response begins to flag and turn to a, "alright, where are we going with this abundance of nature?"
I think you instinctively sense that problem, and deftly avoid it just before the reader gets that question out. But I feel that you play too close with the boundary here.
And, again almost instinctively, you put forth a couple of lines, your closing couplet, that adresses the incipient "where's this going?" attitude of mine- "pure exhilaration," and "even if it's not particular at all."
Fair enough. Beautifully done.
I think the middle lines just need some tightening here or there. First, I might have gone with the four quatrains and left out the "Birds tangled" and "Gleams" stanzas. I don't know, I like the poem and am searching for a reason why it doesn't TOTALLY knock me out and assert itself as not just a nice poem, but a grand one.
I know, I know, we almost always come short of grand ones. I've hidden about 400 less than grand here over the years. But I'll settle for nothing less, and will always be looking to see how a grand one can be made.
So the quibbles are not offered to diminish, but to further exalt.
Mark
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