This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2012-12-21 15:16:46 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!

Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!


                            Newtown, Ct An old man with a sprig of lilac in the land with the dark lengthening, The night come with its flecks of flame, daybreak a distant memory, The lids of the houses closed, the artificial lights extinguished, The old man with his silvered beard meeting the deer in the pasture, The makings of men retiring into the dreams of the men who made them,      who use them, who celebrate them, The old man noting their absence, and the late ones absent, The old man with his answer to, “where”? The old man with his dismissal of, “when”? He brings back with him a scent of the orient. He has scaled to the bright star, He has chaunted the thrush’s song into the drum of the darkness. His feet step where the feet shuffled. He moves over the fresh earth      now hardened by night. He bows to the owl. He lays his sprig.  He said he might be here to see us, and now we see him.  The old man waves his hand at our mouth’s motion, moving into      the dawn with his secret, Leaving a hard land begging for what’s soft in his beard, begging      for the cover of snow. 

Copyright © December 2012 Mark Steven Scheffer

Additional Notes:
Read by me -

This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2012-12-30 10:14:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Quiet remorse is indeed the most sustaining kind. Would we shout out the darkness, the current histrionic theatrics of a movie set is all too mindful. Your sprig (instead of wreath,) passing of landscape with father figure/Santa Claus/Christ "ghost" has the subtlety of lasting effect. Bounding with a crowded use of imagery (can there be such a thing?) you honor sincerity with such illusion. And leave the mental picture of a tombstone instead transient tears lost in the wind. JCH

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2012-12-29 14:02:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
It often takes a poet to put to words those things that defey discription. Events that shake even Christmas to it core. The last lines are for me heart wrenching.
This Poem was Critiqued By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2012-12-28 17:34:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mark, I read this poem a few days ago and can't get it out of my head. The senseless killing of those children is almost too much for anyone to bear. The loss of child is the ultimate of grief. Your use of metaphor is superb and you have good alliteration in mouth's/motion/moving. You have chosen descriptive words to express yourself, the flow is even and the theme, albeit sad, is well done. Bravo! Best wishes cheyenne ps. I could not find chaunted in the dictionary do you mean..chanted or is it just me?
Poetry Contests Online at The Poetic Link

Click HERE to return to Database Page!