This Poem was Submitted By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2010-02-20 15:44:57 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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My Quill

A coat of somber snow on summer’s grass, the trees are stark as ships without their sail and breath that plumes like feather’s softly pass when poets paint with words in grand detail. My winter muse lies mute on mounds of flakes that swirl then drop atop her frozen lips, then she decides the path my writing takes and when my quill will place its tapered tips in ink that colors shreds of verse then mends the lining bound so tight amid the skies. She folds the snow above the rhyme and sends me wings and violins that sweetly rise.

Copyright © February 2010 cheyenne smyth

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2010-02-27 14:50:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Cheyenne, So beautiful.....Your words flow so easily. I wish I had written this. I'm jealous! The snow, nature all intertwined,makes one delicious read. [in my book!] I'm very impressed with your work. Teach me! Dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: Terry A On Date: 2010-02-27 01:50:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Cheyenne, This poem really is delicately suggestive of your love of form and tradition. It is a gentle monologue, lyrical and showing technical adeptness. Terry
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2010-02-24 03:55:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Cheyenne This is a much clearer show of your capability. The fact that it's cross-rhymed iambic pentameter is NOT what makes it better. It's that it is clear you had to work at this to get it sounding right. "the trees are stark as ships without their sail" is damn good, as good an image as I've seen lately. Mind you, there are a couple of spots that still need some elbow-grease: "when poets paint with words in grand detail" is, again, too easy. As Billy Connolly would say, it's beige. Also, the rhythm is a bit wrenched, too. Overall though I like it. I'd suggest though that you broaden your rhythmic palette a bit. Strict iambic pentameter carried on for too long starts to feel like a jackhammer outside your door on a Sunday morning. Try substituting some other feet every now and then for variation. Best wishes Mark
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2010-02-20 21:17:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
This is such an eloquent write in iambic pentameter. The voice is lilting and carries the reader on wings of ecstacy in all it's delicious folds and meter. Such a perfect metered poem that softly crawls into the mind of the reader, I guess you could say that I'm really taken with this poem. Three quatrains of perfection with the added punch of well chosen verbiage makes this a delight to read, this is one that the reader will not soon forget. Oh to write such as this. Bravo and roses at your feet. Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2010-02-20 20:21:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Cheyenne, Very picturesque. I like what you have going here but would suggest a look at flow and structure. Beginning with verse 2, there's one long sentence running into verse 3. I would like some breaks in between. The read became a little cumbersome in this region. I liked the back drop you gave poetry writing !! :-) Duane.
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