Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower save rose's falling petals; hence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
scattered round the shade-starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eye-lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood.
Adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through the amniotic haze; like babes we doze as good babes should.

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

I don't know about the UK, but here the word "Tuscany" is primarily associated with "Romance Novels", the kind that have Fabio on the cover, so connotatively this starts in a deep hole. This appears to be more or less in 8 foot lines...less rather than more. Some poor word choices such as "whence" which to me seems forced, and simply there to rhyme with "fence". "soporific" seems mainly there for the alliteration. The pairing seems a bit over the top. In fact this piece seems especially littered with forced alliterations. "bee-buzzed bed", say that three time fast. The ababa rhyme seems fairly fresh. "blue-wax melt of heated sky" really? "bemused by breezes", again with the tongue twisters. Individually there are some great lines:

"The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore"

is one of my favorites.

"hyaline white", I'm not even sure that is possible, transparent white?

My personal bias against the word "Tuscany" keeps me from making more comments. It's sad really, that the word has been so over used as to become cliche, it is a lovely place from what I hear, but there you have it.

On the whole a solid write.

Dale

(06-11-2014, 12:21 AM)Erthona Wrote:  I don't know about the UK, but here the word "Tuscany" is primarily associated with "Romance Novels", the kind that have Fabio on the cover, so connotatively this starts in a deep hole. This appears to be more or less in 8 foot lines...less rather than more. Some poor word choices such as "whence" which to me seems forced, and simply there to rhyme with "fence". "soporific" seems mainly there for the alliteration. The pairing seems a bit over the top. In fact this piece seems especially littered with forced alliterations. "bee-buzzed bed", say that three time fast. The ababa rhyme seems fairly fresh. "blue-wax melt of heated sky" really? "bemused by breezes", again with the tongue twisters. Individually there are some great lines:

"The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore"

is one of my favorites.

"hyaline white", I'm not even sure that is possible, transparent white?

My personal bias against the word "Tuscany" keeps me from making more comments. It's sad really, that the word has been so over used as to become cliche, it is a lovely place from what I hear, but there you have it.

On the whole a solid write.

Dale

Hi dale,
I am in Tuscany right now Holiday. 35 deg. Pissed. Sky blue and Cypresses black...whence the desi. Hyaline white? Polar bear fur.
Heat exhaustion.
Thanks,

Best,
tectak at Podere san Luigi, Montecarulli

Lucky you!

I've never been to Tuscany, but I've seen plenty of pictures, both painted and worded, to have an idea of the place. Your poem's language is really lush, to match the landscape I guess, but I stumbled on the constant alliteration and assonance. On the other hand, your rhymes are great, and the flow of your poem carries your reader along. Your meter count changes here and there, and archaic word 'whence' stands out. But hey, if I'd written this while pissed and on holiday in Tuscany, I'd feel pleased with it!

I like the 'dark Cyprus fangs' but hate 'amniotic amber'. Sorry I couldn't help more.

(06-11-2014, 08:05 AM)just mercedes Wrote:  I've never been to Tuscany, but I've seen plenty of pictures, both painted and worded, to have an idea of the place. Your poem's language is really lush, to match the landscape I guess, but I stumbled on the constant alliteration and assonance. On the other hand, your rhymes are great, and the flow of your poem carries your reader along. Your meter count changes here and there, and archaic word 'whence' stands out. But hey, if I'd written this while pissed and on holiday in Tuscany, I'd feel pleased with it!

I like the 'dark Cyprus fangs' but hate 'amniotic amber'. Sorry I couldn't help more.

Hi merc,
Yes I got the grappa-grip alrighty. This one needs calming down. Head hot and too much blood methinks. Thanks for the steerage.
Best,
tectak

Enjoy your jaunt Tom, I did. Your alliterative poem is great fun. You may have some typos, but perhaps they are whimsical happy accidents. I think you can use potpourri (one word). Do you mean ‘Geckos’, the reptile? I think you mean ‘pallor’. Nice/Chris

(06-11-2014, 06:45 PM)ChristopherSea Wrote:  Enjoy your jaunt Tom, I did. Your alliterative poem is great fun. You may have some typos, but perhaps they are whimsical happy accidents. I think you can use potpourri (one word). Do you mean ‘Geckos’, the reptile? I think you mean ‘pallor’. Nice/Chris

Thanks chris,
gecko spelling just plain wrong. Pallor typo. Credited
Best,
tectak

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense; The alliteration is almost as cliche as the imagery This is called alliterative verse and that is why there is alliteration here. It is rooted in the Germanic and was used, by natural descendency, in much Old English poetry. You pointed out to me the merits of alliteration in a previous communique. See how I listen to the crits?
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed. sweet and fluffy Indeed, as I sit here in the shade of the fig tree, with my glass of warm Chiani watching the jays anting, the geckos panting and the bees in stupor of nectar and heat....sweet and fluffy captures it to perfection. Thank you
Little moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence probably my favourite line
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red I dedicate this line to Tolkien
lies scattered round the shade starved shrubs, across parched grass to walnut fence.


scattered across the shade starved shrubs, lie creamy gold and carmine red
the drift of pink and white and yellow, round parched grass to walnut fence.[b] I might like this too but it makes little sense to make no sense....better to make some than none. I will look more at your syntax and see if there is merit in there somewhere.
[/b]

I like this version better ^

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood The fluidity of the first stanza makes this line awkward in comparison Agreed. This stanza needs tweaking. No doubt advice will come from those more qualified than I in the fullness of time.
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep. I was quite enjoying the meter until it went to sleep Yes. Well, that worked then. Result
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood;
adrift upon the dimming day a pot-pourri of perfume seeps
into the amniotic amber... we're babes unborn, the innocent good. I hate having to look up a word in the middle of a read. Imagery should be accessible That, to a significant degree, depends upon the vocabulary of the reader. We must never write to please the least able. Amniotic, if that is the word you stumbled on, will be well know to every parent...but just in case, amber is a colour

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signals, swaying trees and crackling grass.
Oh well I guess it's night time now. That's really it for this stanza.


How fine to feel cool air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
"It's night time in Tuscany: Part 2"
Probably could've trimmed these last 2 stanzas down into 1.

Lots of fluff, a bit of filler. But it tasted good in my mouth, if that was your point."




tectak
Tuscany
2014

Thanks for your attention....does this mean we are talking again?
Best,
tectak

(06-12-2014, 02:18 PM)Cyferz Wrote:  

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense; The alliteration is almost as cliche as the imagery This is called alliterative verse and that is why there is alliteration here. It is rooted in the Germanic and was used, by natural descendency, in much Old English poetry. You pointed out to me the merits of alliteration in a previous communique. See how I listen to the crits?
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed. sweet and fluffy Indeed, as I sit here in the shade of the fig tree, with my glass of warm Chiani watching the jays anting, the geckos panting and the bees in stupor of nectar and heat....sweet and fluffy captures it to perfection. Thank you
Little moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence probably my favourite line
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red I dedicate this line to Tolkien
lies scattered round the shade starved shrubs, across parched grass to walnut fence.


scattered across the shade starved shrubs, lie creamy gold and carmine red
the drift of pink and white and yellow, round parched grass to walnut fence.[b] I might like this too but it makes little sense to make no sense....better to make some than none. I will look more at your syntax and see if there is merit in there somewhere.
[/b]

I like this version better ^

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood The fluidity of the first stanza makes this line awkward in comparison Agreed. This stanza needs tweaking. No doubt advice will come from those more qualified than I in the fullness of time.
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep. I was quite enjoying the meter until it went to sleep Yes. Well, that worked then. Result
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood;
adrift upon the dimming day a pot-pourri of perfume seeps
into the amniotic amber... we're babes unborn, the innocent good. I hate having to look up a word in the middle of a read. Imagery should be accessible That, to a significant degree, depends upon the vocabulary of the reader. We must never write to please the least able. Amniotic, if that is the word you stumbled on, will be well know to every parent...but just in case, amber is a colour

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signals, swaying trees and crackling grass.
Oh well I guess it's night time now. That's really it for this stanza.


How fine to feel cool air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
"It's night time in Tuscany: Part 2"
Probably could've trimmed these last 2 stanzas down into 1.

Lots of fluff, a bit of filler. But it tasted good in my mouth, if that was your point."




tectak
Tuscany
2014

Thanks for your attention....does this mean we are talking again?
Best,
tectak

I'm a bit older, a bit wiser, and a lot less depressed.

(06-20-2014, 12:33 PM)Cyferz Wrote:  

(06-12-2014, 02:18 PM)Cyferz Wrote:  

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense; The alliteration is almost as cliche as the imagery This is called alliterative verse and that is why there is alliteration here. It is rooted in the Germanic and was used, by natural descendency, in much Old English poetry. You pointed out to me the merits of alliteration in a previous communique. See how I listen to the crits?
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed. sweet and fluffy Indeed, as I sit here in the shade of the fig tree, with my glass of warm Chianti watching the jays anting, the geckos panting and the bees in stupor of nectar and heat....sweet and fluffy captures it to perfection. Thank you
Little moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence probably my favourite line
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red I dedicate this line to Tolkien
lies scattered round the shade starved shrubs, across parched grass to walnut fence.


scattered across the shade starved shrubs, lie creamy gold and carmine red
the drift of pink and white and yellow, round parched grass to walnut fence.[b] I might like this too but it makes little sense to make no sense....better to make some than none. I will look more at your syntax and see if there is merit in there somewhere.
[/b]

I like this version better ^

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood The fluidity of the first stanza makes this line awkward in comparison Agreed. This stanza needs tweaking. No doubt advice will come from those more qualified than I in the fullness of time.
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep. I was quite enjoying the meter until it went to sleep Yes. Well, that worked then. Result
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood;
adrift upon the dimming day a pot-pourri of perfume seeps
into the amniotic amber... we're babes unborn, the innocent good. I hate having to look up a word in the middle of a read. Imagery should be accessible That, to a significant degree, depends upon the vocabulary of the reader. We must never write to please the least able. Amniotic, if that is the word you stumbled on, will be well known to every parent...but just in case, amber is a colour

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signals, swaying trees and crackling grass.
Oh well I guess it's night time now. That's really it for this stanza.


How fine to feel cool air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
"It's night time in Tuscany: Part 2"
Probably could've trimmed these last 2 stanzas down into 1.

Lots of fluff, a bit of filler. But it tasted good in my mouth, if that was your point."




tectak
Tuscany
2014

Thanks for your attention....does this mean we are talking again?
Best,
tectak

I'm a bit older, a bit wiser, and a lot less depressed.

Good egg,
Looking forward to more from you.
Best,
tectak

hi tom you lucky bastard.

the poem feels beautiful yet overly so. some of the phrasing is glorious, and some of them feel just too treacly. whence feels forced and i wonder if pine-wood is enough (leaving a little ambiguity in the line.

Nothing moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red

Nothing moves of leaf or flower, save the rose's falling petals
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red

is a suggestion but you would need to alter the end rhyme that follows.

the overall picture is solid and full of a tuscan experience, on the debit side, it's too full of the tuscan experience; still very likeable.

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
lies scattered round the shade starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood;
adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through amniotic amber where we're babes unborn, the innocent good. this line doesn't work for me most of all. (the innocent good part) would someone half pissed with such natural beauty think of innoce3nt good?

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore, this is some of the beautiful part.
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass. this is one of the less beautiful lines for me. i think it's the stark dark and the fangs that feel too much of a juxtaposition with the body of the poem
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar; another excellent line. this is good alliteration and doesn't feel too much even though there's a fair bit on the line. it works like good unnoticeable rhymes work, i only noticed them because i'm giving feedback.
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light. this line feels a bit cheesy and i wonder if it's really needed?
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

(06-20-2014, 05:17 PM)billy Wrote:  hi tom you lucky bastard.

the poem feels beautiful yet overly so. some of the phrasing is glorious, and some of them feel just too treacly. whence feels forced and i wonder if pine-wood is enough (leaving a little ambiguity in the line.

Nothing moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red

Nothing moves of leaf or flower, save the rose's falling petals
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red

is a suggestion but you would need to alter the end rhyme that follows.

the overall picture is solid and full of a tuscan experience, on the debit side, it's too full of the tuscan experience; still very likeable.

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower, save rose's falling petals whence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
lies scattered round the shade starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood;
adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through amniotic amber where we're babes unborn, the innocent good. this line doesn't work for me most of all. (the innocent good part) would someone half pissed with such natural beauty think of innoce3nt good?

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore, this is some of the beautiful part.
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass. this is one of the less beautiful lines for me. i think it's the stark dark and the fangs that feel too much of a juxtaposition with the body of the poem
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar; another excellent line. this is good alliteration and doesn't feel too much even though there's a fair bit on the line. it works like good unnoticeable rhymes work, i only noticed them because i'm giving feedback.
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light. this line feels a bit cheesy and i wonder if it's really needed?
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

Hi billy,
back home now but its 28deg and no pool! Off to Deia on Majorca in a couple of weeks so I might reedit Halfway Holiday Blues.
As always you order me back to earth. The "whence" word could be "thence" or better still, "hence"...what say you?
I am not crazy about the fangs of cypress but it isn't over-poetic. I will try to post some pics. Melting wax blue sky was of the moment...jeez, it was hot.
Innocent good must go. You are right. I may have trouble getting a rhyme triple but I will enjoy the challenge. I was trying to capture the essence of being in blood heat, eyes closed, thinking nothing and being aware of water...amniotic or what? So babes, innocence and good (no thoughts of anything, let alone evil) comes to mind. No. No use. I will work on it.
...and yes, it is cheesy. WTF.
Thanks for the effort.
Best,
tectak

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;

Myrrh and frankincense in this order is strange for me, because it's always been frankincense and myrrh. I suppose that's a minor issue though.

as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower save rose's falling petals; hence Whoa!! precipitous enjambment. AT least the fall's not too far Of course I love it.
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
scattered round the shade-starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood. I absolutely love the sonics in this line, and the reversal of the "Y"s and "O"s in "through eyes" and "sky glows". The problem though is that "through eyes" is strange. As if one could see another way, but then you say "lids closed and it gets even stranger. I know that it's the light through the eyelids but the diction is very odd to me. Maybe it's that to me you see the light from the sky through the lids, but really through the eyes all you are seeing is the lids. Figure that one out. I don't need wood after cedar. You seem to need it to rhyme. Too bad. find a better one or forget the Rhyme
Adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through the amniotic amber; like babes we doze as good babes should. Like babes as good babes. I love it. cloying sonics throughout but it seems to have an intoxicating effect. There is a slight yet ignored sense of danger like I'm being lulled by a nymph. Why are the lines so damn long? I'm getting dizzy; it's clear yet so thick it's almost impenetrable.

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
Magical. I wanna go.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

Tec,

This is not any easy read. It finally does start to move and charm and move and go somewhere dammit in the close (final two stanzas). I wish you would cut it down to a (still very long) sonnet.

(06-24-2014, 07:55 AM)trueenigma Wrote:  

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;

Myrrh and frankincense in this order is strange for me, because it's always been frankincense and myrrh. I suppose that's a minor issue though.

as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower save rose's falling petals; hence Whoa!! precipitous enjambment. AT least the fall's not too far Of course I love it.
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
scattered round the shade-starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood. I absolutely love the sonics in this line, and the reversal of the "Y"s and "O"s in "through eyes" and "sky glows". The problem though is that "through eyes" is strange. As if one could see another way, but then you say "lids closed and it gets even stranger. I know that it's the light through the eyelids but the diction is very odd to me. Maybe it's that to me you see the light from the sky through the lids, but really through the eyes all you are seeing is the lids. Figure that one out. I don't need wood after cedar. You seem to need it to rhyme. Too bad. find a better one or forget the Rhyme
Adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through the amniotic amber; like babes we doze as good babes should. Like babes as good babes. I love it. cloying sonics throughout but it seems to have an intoxicating effect. There is a slight yet ignored sense of danger like I'm being lulled by a nymph. Why are the lines so damn long? I'm getting dizzy; it's clear yet so thick it's almost impenetrable.

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
Magical. I wanna go.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

Tec,

This is not any easy read. It finally does start to move and charm and move and go somewhere dammit in the close (final two stanzas). I wish you would cut it down to a (still very long) sonnet.

Shit. You are right about the eyelids. It should be....oh, the hell. I have corrected it.
Thanks,
tectak
Podere San Luigi at San Gimgnano,. Google it. Great people.

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower save rose's falling petals; hence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
scattered round the shade-starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eye-lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood.
Adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through the amniotic amber; like babes we doze as good babes should.

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

---

Hi tectak: as near as this novice can tell this is perfect 8 meter, ababa 5 lines each stanza. My only suggestion is about the bee-buzzed-bed, but that's really personal preference. I found it an easy read once I got the meter and rhyme; it reminds me of Shelly. Was this the post you referred to in the Frog post? Best Loretta

(06-26-2014, 06:36 AM)LorettaYoung Wrote:  

(06-10-2014, 07:10 PM)tectak Wrote:  Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;
as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower save rose's falling petals; hence
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
scattered round the shade-starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eye-lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood.
Adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through the amniotic amber; like babes we doze as good babes should.

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

---

Hi tectak: as near as this novice can tell this is perfect 8 meter, ababa 5 lines each stanza. My only suggestion is about the bee-buzzed-bed, but that's really personal preference. I found it an easy read once I got the meter and rhyme; it reminds me of Shelly. Was this the post you referred to in the Frog post? Best Loretta

I haven't the foggiest idea what sparked the frog post, but I don't think it was this.

Tom, I wanted to mention something about those five line stanzas; your rhymes lack closure ending on the A rhyme. quatrains or sestets would sound more complete.