Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

[Thoughtjotter]

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is,
over and over and over?
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth?
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve,
over and over and over.

[Wjames]

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is,
over and over and over?
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth?
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve,
over and over and over.

This reminds me of the gorgeous song "I'm so lonesome I could cry" by Hank Williams.

The opening two questions aren't questions at all is the only obvious repair I can offer. Have a great party!

[tectak]

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?Are we going to have punctuation issues? What on earth are these question marks doing? Is it misplaced upspeak syndrome? You must gain immediate credibility in your work. You have bombed in the first few lines. If you say these are typos I will say you should have corrected them before posting.
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is, Weak. You just could not think of anything to say. This whippoorwill is not engaging me
over and over and over? AAAArRGGHH???
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth? But of a leap of allusion. How did we get here. Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.....perhaps you should have intimated by deeper connect just why the call of the bird is important to you. eg. Maybe the insistence in the certainty of the bird's identity call was at a time in your life when you were unsure of your own identity. It is the weakness in the first instance that brings out the weakness in the second. I just know this will become a struggle between clarity and early mist
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment. See? The poor bloody whippoorwill has been given the the boot. You're off on a carreering cliche. What was that all about? I am now no longer surprised by the cluster of question marks.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away. You and everybody else.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today, clearly
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So! This is much better BUT would have worked to the poems betterment if the opener had been stronger...as mentioned earlier
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those Deadfully over-dramatic cliche. You can de better
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over. This is so close to working I am exasperated by your brinkmanship.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve
over and over and over. Preciptous ending and unclear. Do you have more than you deserve over and over...or...does the T(?)ruth remind you over and over?

Hello,
Execution fail...but oh so close. A good idea but not a great idea. I can feel the struggle in this as it is classical commitment verse where you are so excited by your coming end you neglect everything else. The opener is where the crack starts.That bloody whippoorwill MUST say something more significant than "I'm me" or your central metaphor will not evolve.
Having said all of that, I am guilty as I charged you, because the whole thing needs smoothing out; I got hooked on where it was going and forgit where it was
Best,
edit,
tectak
Isn't Whip-poor-will normally hyphenated? I ask because I do not know.

[JakMak]

Really like the concept, I'm kinda dissapointed that all the whip/will is saying is "i told you so" I don't know man, I hate to say this, I assume you put some feeling into it, but reading it, it feels generic and impersonal... I know you talked about rebellion and walking away from your parents advice, but we all have, in our own way, been rebellious and not taken our parents wizened experience to heart when they shared it with us... is there any way you could work in specific situations. You say this is for your mother's 91st birthday bash, include something in there that she CAN'T find in a Hall Mark card, make mention or allude to something that has a special or important memory attached to it, something that would surprise her that you remebered. On the bright side, ol' ma, probably ain't a poetry critic, and anything that is heart felt, and genuine may be sufficient... best of luck of luck to you, and happy birthday to your ma (:


oh yeah, btw, i'm from the south too, and I hate to think when i hear a whipporwhill that all they're saying is "I told you so" I know it doens't fit your story, (why i didn't include it into the critique part of my post) but stepping out of my house in mornings, when i used to jog, i always thought of them telling me "good morning, good morning, everyone, good morning" or to "have a good day" or something like that, as negative of a person as i usually am, i never really thought as the whipporwhill as being that snarky, as to rub your wrongs in your face, that's kinduvan asshole thing for a bird to do, that would suck, to sit there and listen to them over and over again tell you "told you so", i'd think that bird was an asshole... i dunno man, we usually hear what we want or are afraid to hear... once again, best wishes...

[Thoughtjotter]

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?Are we going to have punctuation issues? What on earth are these question marks doing? Is it misplaced upspeak syndrome? You must gain immediate credibility in your work. You have bombed in the first few lines. If you say these are typos I will say you should have corrected them before posting.
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is, Weak. You just could not think of anything to say. This whippoorwill is not engaging me
over and over and over? AAAArRGGHH???
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth? But of a leap of allusion. How did we get here. Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.....perhaps you should have intimated by deeper connect just why the call of the bird is important to you. eg. Maybe the insistence in the certainty of the bird's identity call was at a time in your life when you were unsure of your own identity. It is the weakness in the first instance that brings out the weakness in the second. I just know this will become a struggle between clarity and early mist
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment. See? The poor bloody whippoorwill has been given the the boot. You're off on a carreering cliche. What was that all about? I am now no longer surprised by the cluster of question marks.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away. You and everybody else.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today, clearly
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So! This is much better BUT would have worked to the poems betterment if the opener had been stronger...as mentioned earlier
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those Deadfully over-dramatic cliche. You can de better
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over. This is so close to working I am exasperated by your brinkmanship.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve
over and over and over. Preciptous ending and unclear. Do you have more than you deserve over and over...or...does the T(?)ruth remind you over and over?

Hello,
Execution fail...but oh so close. A good idea but not a great idea. I can feel the struggle in this as it is classical commitment verse where you are so excited by your coming end you neglect everything else. The opener is where the crack starts.That bloody whippoorwill MUST say something more significant than "I'm me" or your central metaphor will not evolve.
Having said all of that, I am guilty as I charged you, because the whole thing needs smoothing out; I got hooked on where it was going and forgit where it was
Best,
edit,
tectak
Isn't Whip-poor-will normally hyphenated? I ask because I do not know.

Thanks for the feed back I'm still working on the edit. It may be close to a rewrite when I get finished. I had changed some things before the first post and totally missed the ? marks. still got a long way to go

---

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?Are we going to have punctuation issues? What on earth are these question marks doing? Is it misplaced upspeak syndrome? You must gain immediate credibility in your work. You have bombed in the first few lines. If you say these are typos I will say you should have corrected them before posting.
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is, Weak. You just could not think of anything to say. This whippoorwill is not engaging me
over and over and over? AAAArRGGHH???
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth? But of a leap of allusion. How did we get here. Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.....perhaps you should have intimated by deeper connect just why the call of the bird is important to you. eg. Maybe the insistence in the certainty of the bird's identity call was at a time in your life when you were unsure of your own identity. It is the weakness in the first instance that brings out the weakness in the second. I just know this will become a struggle between clarity and early mist
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment. See? The poor bloody whippoorwill has been given the the boot. You're off on a carreering cliche. What was that all about? I am now no longer surprised by the cluster of question marks.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away. You and everybody else.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today, clearly
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So! This is much better BUT would have worked to the poems betterment if the opener had been stronger...as mentioned earlier
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those Deadfully over-dramatic cliche. You can de better
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over. This is so close to working I am exasperated by your brinkmanship.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve
over and over and over. Preciptous ending and unclear. Do you have more than you deserve over and over...or...does the T(?)ruth remind you over and over?

Hello,
Execution fail...but oh so close. A good idea but not a great idea. I can feel the struggle in this as it is classical commitment verse where you are so excited by your coming end you neglect everything else. The opener is where the crack starts.That bloody whippoorwill MUST say something more significant than "I'm me" or your central metaphor will not evolve.
Having said all of that, I am guilty as I charged you, because the whole thing needs smoothing out; I got hooked on where it was going and forgit where it was
Best,
edit,
tectak
Isn't Whip-poor-will normally hyphenated? I ask because I do not know.

Still picking through the wreckage may take a bit . It will be close to a re write but I'll keep at it. And, I do Appreciate your candid feedback , I do have ideas but they will not be worth the click of a button unless I learn the correct way, Please continue to shoot from the hip.
Thanks for the Honest Help, R.T.

[tectak]

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?Are we going to have punctuation issues? What on earth are these question marks doing? Is it misplaced upspeak syndrome? You must gain immediate credibility in your work. You have bombed in the first few lines. If you say these are typos I will say you should have corrected them before posting.
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is, Weak. You just could not think of anything to say. This whippoorwill is not engaging me
over and over and over? AAAArRGGHH???
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth? But of a leap of allusion. How did we get here. Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.....perhaps you should have intimated by deeper connect just why the call of the bird is important to you. eg. Maybe the insistence in the certainty of the bird's identity call was at a time in your life when you were unsure of your own identity. It is the weakness in the first instance that brings out the weakness in the second. I just know this will become a struggle between clarity and early mist
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment. See? The poor bloody whippoorwill has been given the the boot. You're off on a carreering cliche. What was that all about? I am now no longer surprised by the cluster of question marks.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away. You and everybody else.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today, clearly
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So! This is much better BUT would have worked to the poems betterment if the opener had been stronger...as mentioned earlier
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those Deadfully over-dramatic cliche. You can de better
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over. This is so close to working I am exasperated by your brinkmanship.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve
over and over and over. Preciptous ending and unclear. Do you have more than you deserve over and over...or...does the T(?)ruth remind you over and over?

Hello,
Execution fail...but oh so close. A good idea but not a great idea. I can feel the struggle in this as it is classical commitment verse where you are so excited by your coming end you neglect everything else. The opener is where the crack starts.That bloody whippoorwill MUST say something more significant than "I'm me" or your central metaphor will not evolve.
Having said all of that, I am guilty as I charged you, because the whole thing needs smoothing out; I got hooked on where it was going and forgit where it was
Best,
edit,
tectak
Isn't Whip-poor-will normally hyphenated? I ask because I do not know.

Thanks for the feed back I'm still working on the edit. It may be close to a rewrite when I get finished. I had changed some things before the first post and totally missed the ? marks. still got a long way to go

---

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?Are we going to have punctuation issues? What on earth are these question marks doing? Is it misplaced upspeak syndrome? You must gain immediate credibility in your work. You have bombed in the first few lines. If you say these are typos I will say you should have corrected them before posting.
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is, Weak. You just could not think of anything to say. This whippoorwill is not engaging me
over and over and over? AAAArRGGHH???
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth? But of a leap of allusion. How did we get here. Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.Hello, I am a Whippoorwill.....perhaps you should have intimated by deeper connect just why the call of the bird is important to you. eg. Maybe the insistence in the certainty of the bird's identity call was at a time in your life when you were unsure of your own identity. It is the weakness in the first instance that brings out the weakness in the second. I just know this will become a struggle between clarity and early mist
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment. See? The poor bloody whippoorwill has been given the the boot. You're off on a carreering cliche. What was that all about? I am now no longer surprised by the cluster of question marks.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away. You and everybody else.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today, clearly
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So! This is much better BUT would have worked to the poems betterment if the opener had been stronger...as mentioned earlier
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those Deadfully over-dramatic cliche. You can de better
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over. This is so close to working I am exasperated by your brinkmanship.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve
over and over and over. Preciptous ending and unclear. Do you have more than you deserve over and over...or...does the T(?)ruth remind you over and over?

Hello,
Execution fail...but oh so close. A good idea but not a great idea. I can feel the struggle in this as it is classical commitment verse where you are so excited by your coming end you neglect everything else. The opener is where the crack starts.That bloody whippoorwill MUST say something more significant than "I'm me" or your central metaphor will not evolve.
Having said all of that, I am guilty as I charged you, because the whole thing needs smoothing out; I got hooked on where it was going and forgit where it was
Best,
edit,
tectak
Isn't Whip-poor-will normally hyphenated? I ask because I do not know.

Still picking through the wreckage may take a bit . It will be close to a re write but I'll keep at it. And, I do Appreciate your candid feedback , I do have ideas but they will not be worth the click of a button unless I learn the correct way, Please continue to shoot from the hip.
Thanks for the Honest Help, R.T.

Good egg,
Don't stop writing.
Tectak

[poe]

First of all I have always loved the name of that bird. That hooked me from the get. I think you should add an "and" to connect L2 with L3, for flow. I 'll assume the question marks are a typo. Be more careful, please. The use of repetition, "over, and over, and over, to mimic the call of the whippoorwill, works for me. I especially like the second to last line as if the whippoorwill is admonishing you with that repetition, about having more than you deserve. The humility there is an effective and strong close to the piece.

[AnywherebutHere]

I think your description could be better throughout, there are no solid or strong details sticking out to me. "warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is," you can add "of" between me and his, and I personally do not like the very ending line where you use over and over again.

[aerickson]

Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is,
over and over and over?
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth?
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve,
over and over and over.

I like the subject of this poem very much. If I may, I would suggest changing the tense of the poem a bit, might help it flow better. I always try to limit extra words to decrease the clutter of a poem so that the true meaning of the poem can come out. I think this poem could do with some decluttering. Your idea is very clear so you don't need a lot of extra words to help the reader out. Also, not sure about the questions. It throws the reader a bit. Does that make sense? I've redone your poem below to show you what I mean by fewer words. Hope this doesn't offend, toss out if you don't like it! Great subject and some really great lines. I love the repetition of lines throughout the poem.

I sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night,
listening as the Whippoorwill tells me
who he is.
Over and over and over.
That melancholy pull of
memories;
recollections of my rebelliousness.
Reminding me of Mama
hoping,
praying,
I would find that
elusive buried treasure: contentment.
Reminding me of dad
trying,
wanting,
to show me the way, and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders, I walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth
more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh! The bitter sweet memories,
those warm Southern nights, and the Whippoorwill continues
reminding me who he is.
Over and over and over,
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve.
Over and over and over.

[Thoughtjotter]

I think your description could be better throughout, there are no solid or strong details sticking out to me. "warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is," you can add "of" between me and his, and I personally do not like the very ending line where you use over and over again.

Sorry for the delayed response, been away a couple of weeks.
Thank you for your honest feed back. You are right and I hope you will critique the re/write.

---

[quote='Thoughtjotter' pid='161050' dateline='1397618249']
Where I live in Alabama; a Southern state in the USA, we have a night bird called a whippoorwill. He is named after the song he sings over and over and over never missing a beat. Last night I sat on my back porch for a couple of hours listening to one, he never slowed down for a second the whole time.
I wrote this for my Mom's 91st birthday party coming up this Saturday. If it needs obvious repairs please feel free to suggest.

Of Whippoorwills and the Truth

I have sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night?
listened to the Whippoorwill tell me
who he is,
over and over and over?
I could feel that melancholy pull from
those simple memories of my youth?
The recollections of my rebellious past
reminding me of the time my Mama
spent hoping and praying that
I would one day find that
elusive buried treasure of contentment.
All the times my dad tried
to show me the way and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders and walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth much more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh the bitter sweet memories of those
warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is,
over and over and over.
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve,
over and over and over.

I like the subject of this poem very much. If I may, I would suggest changing the tense of the poem a bit, might help it flow better. I always try to limit extra words to decrease the clutter of a poem so that the true meaning of the poem can come out. I think this poem could do with some decluttering. Your idea is very clear so you don't need a lot of extra words to help the reader out. Also, not sure about the questions. It throws the reader a bit. Does that make sense? I've redone your poem below to show you what I mean by fewer words. Hope this doesn't offend, toss out if you don't like it! Great subject and some really great lines. I love the repetition of lines throughout the poem.

I sat on the porch on
a warm Southern night,
listening as the Whippoorwill tells me
who he is.
Over and over and over.
That melancholy pull of
memories;
recollections of my rebelliousness.
Reminding me of Mama
hoping,
praying,
I would find that
elusive buried treasure: contentment.
Reminding me of dad
trying,
wanting,
to show me the way, and I
stubbornly shrugged my shoulders, I walked away.
Now I struggle to look myself in the eye because
I hear the Truth
more clear today,
as it imitates the Whippoorwill;
I Told You So! I Told You So! I Told You So!
Oh! The bitter sweet memories,
those warm Southern nights, and the Whippoorwill continues
reminding me who he is.
Over and over and over,
Just as the Truth continues to remind me,
I have more than I deserve.
Over and over and over.
[/quote
Sorry about the delayed reply, just got back, from a couple of great weeks of fishing.
Thank you for your kind words and suggestions, some great ideas there.
All I have done so far is jot thoughts though I look forward learning how to write poetry . I have rewritten the whippoorwill, hopefully a little closer to resembling a poem

---

I think your description could be better throughout, there are no solid or strong details sticking out to me. "warm Southern nights, as the Whippoorwill continues
to remind me who he is," you can add "of" between me and his, and I personally do not like the very ending line where you use over and over again.

Thanks for you honest feedback. I have pretty well rewritten the whole attempted poem. Hopefully, I have gotten a little closer to poetry.
Thanks again,

R.T.