Slow Hours

[alatos]

Slow Hours, v.2

Odor of cedar
billows down from the dusky needles
and mixes into the uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun.
But it is cool here in the shade.

So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast,
in Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight,
of deep-eyed gypsy singers.
Málaga, where I first met you.

Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart.

Love was simple then,
sweet and blood-red
like the young garnacha
we poured and poured.

Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,

dreamed of each-other
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all.








Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun.
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here?


So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast,
in Málaga, where I first met you.
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight,
of deep-eyed gypsy singers.


Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart.


Love was simple, then,
sweet and blood-red
like the young garnacha
we poured and poured.


Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,


dreamed of each-other
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all.

[fuzzyllama1]

Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun.
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here?


So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast, - Consider cutting "dreams of" here. The flow sounds better to me without it. Unless you're attached to the repetition.
in Málaga, where I first met you.
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight, - Is the comma at the end necessary?
of deep-eyed gypsy singers.


Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising, 
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart. - My favorite part so far. By now, I had already forgotten it's a dream we're in. I am completely lost in the setting.


Love was simple, then, - And just like that, you snap me back out of it. You devil, you. I want to go back to Malaga.
sweet and blood-red
like the young garnacha - Capitalize Garnacha?
we poured and poured.


Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,


dreamed of each-other
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all.

Simple, lovely, fleeting. Just like a dream.

[Lydish]

This is so romantic, and has a lovely longing dreamlike quality to it in the dreaming section. I like the switch from the quiet forest feeling when the narrator is breaking from work, to falling into the dream, and then compared to passionate noisy Malaga.

Never heard of a Garnacha, but now I want to try one! Some little nitpicks and comments inline below

Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles
I thought of perfume here...like "eau de cedar"...if you go with Tiger's suggestion of "scent of odor" it could be a nice place for some alliteration "scent of cedar sweeps down"
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun.
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here?

"Who could resist sleep here" feels just one syllable too short, like I'm waiting for another syllable in there. When I read it aloud, I automatically say "sleeping"
So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast,
in Málaga, where I first met you.
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight,
of deep-eyed gypsy singers.

"city of orange trees and starlight, and deep-eyed gypsy singers" makes a very clear image for me of dark coastal towns with barely visible oranges on shadowy trees under a sky canopy of stars, which is lovely. Just want to point out that there are probably people who won't be happy with use of the word "gypsy"... but that's really up to you.

Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart.

"Again, I see you" says to me that narrator has this dream a lot

Love was simple, then,
sweet and blood-red
like the young Garnacha
we poured and poured.

Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,

dreamed of each-other
One little nitpick is that I find "dreamed together" "dreamed of each other" redundant. Of course they're appearing in each other's dreams if they're having the same dream, right? I also feel like this is a good opportunity to expand on a more specific "what could've happened" scenario :-)
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all.
Sweet ending!

[Tiger the Lion]

Hey Alatos. A likable piece. A few thoughts below.

Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles Of all the senses, the olfactory is the toughest in poetry. At least for me. Most of the descriptors carry a negative connotation, and frankly our options stink. I think "odor" is a harsh choice for the first word of such a piece. I would consider "the scent of cedar" (for sonics if nothing else) at the start and see what you can sub in L2.
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun. I think this line and the next could be one sentence.
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here?


So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast,
in Málaga, where I first met you.
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight,
of deep-eyed gypsy singers. not sure if the repetition in this strophe does anything to help the poem


Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart.


Love was simple, then, ditch the comma after "simple"
sweet and blood-red
like the young garnacha
we poured and poured. more unnecessary repetition IMO


Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,


dreamed of each-other I like the repetition of "dreamed" here. Go figure
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all. Love the last line.

Thanks for the read. Most of my notes are personal preference. Just one reader's perspective.
Paul

[nibbed]

I melted like butter when I read this.
I love me a good gypsy poem.
Gypsy poems are encouraging and beautiful.



Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles    -Although the waft was vivid, this first line made me reread it several times,
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.                        it caused my reader's voice to be tongue-tied, or stammer. Cedar is not an
I’ve worked hard in the sun.                                           odor to me, but more an impressionable scent.
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here?


So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast,
in Málaga, where I first met you.                                  A good place for gypsies.
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight,
of deep-eyed gypsy singers.                                            deep-eyed is lovely


Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart.


Love was simple, then,
sweet and blood-red                                                       I'm not sure how love can be blood red, unless it is a personal reference/
like the young garnacha                                                                                                                                                     memory
we poured and poured.


Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,                                                    I like this very much


dreamed of each-other                                                   and this
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all.




This was a classic write. The kinda stuff I think of when I think of romantic poetry.
Mushy stuff, something that would make someone melt like chocolate if they
received it hand written in a card. Blessings to you.


nibbed

[alatos]

Thanks very much for the critique and kind words. I will revise and post later!

[Achebe]

Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles....too long and clunky. You could shorten it to "the peppermint smell of cedar needles (note: I have no idea what cedar needles smell like) / mixes with the scent of grass" - the points being to use a more familiar olfactory reference and trim fat
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun...... would prefer a comma
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here? ... unnecessary. I get that you're trying to set up the dreaming in the next strophe, but the above two lines are good enough for that 


So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast, .....I don't like the repetition here. I think you can remove the second "dreams" and the comma above and still do fine 
in Málaga, where I first met you.
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight,
of deep-eyed gypsy singers. ....."and" instead of "of"?


Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart.


Love was simple, then,
sweet and blood-red
like the young garnacha
we poured and poured.


Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,


dreamed of each-other....don't need a hyphen
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all.

Lovely mood piece

[billy]

hi alatos, like a schmuck i read all the replies and now i'm tainted
nonetheless here goes; i'm okay with odour, it is after all a piece of wood and not odecolode parfume a suggestion though would be to make it odours, {mingled smells of cedar} odour feels too stark. if you go that route i'd use billow instead of billows. you'd also have to make mixes mix, which for me has a better harmonic. there seems to be an abundance of comma but on the whole i enjoyed the read.

Slow Hours


Odor of cedar billows down from the dusky needles
and mixes with the scent of uncut grass.
I’ve worked hard in the sun. i've is [i have] which is a past tense i think but [it is] is present tense. i could be wrong but it's how i see it.
But it is cool in the shade.
Who could resist sleep here? would make a great first line


So I fade into dreams,
dreams of nights on the sleepless coast, for me there's one dream too many
in Málaga, where I first met you. why not [of malaga]
In Málaga, city of orange trees and starlight, no need for [in]
of deep-eyed gypsy singers.


Again, I see you in the garden,
and hear the Andalusian music rising,
the castanets louder, faster,
racing to the rhythm of my heart. good alliteration which lends the reader to the speeding castanets.


Love was simple, then,
sweet and blood-red
like the young garnacha
we poured and poured.


Those nights
we did not sleep,
but dreamed together,


dreamed of each-other not sure the 2nd dreamed does it for me.
all the slow hours of the night.
That was all. normally a line like this would read as a weak one but because it snaps the poem closed it works really well.

[alatos]

Thanks all for your thoughtful suggestions and comments. I've updated the poem. However, although this is apparently unpopular, I'm pretty set on the repetition. To me, it adds the the rhythmic, dreamlike mood I'm trying to evoke.