06-15-2014, 10:53 AM
hi fim.
this link shows how to format for spaces and indents
i think some of the lines could be more solid if you left some things out and let the reader do some of the work
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
tenderly grasps the tiny hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
the tell; an evident sparkle
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasped the tiny hand,
the tell; an evident sparkle
in the eyes of the elderly man.
please don't see it as a rewrite, it was just easier doing it that way than trying to sat the same thing in the body of the poem proper.
i find it hard to give feedback on this kind of poem as i don't know if it's personal or not, but it's in serious so i'm replying as normal.
i think a stricter meter might also help you cut some of the slackness out of the poem, also check out your rhymes, can they be done better?
why A father and not My father in the last verse
as always thanks for the read.
this link shows how to format for spaces and indents
i think some of the lines could be more solid if you left some things out and let the reader do some of the work
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
tenderly grasps the tiny hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
the tell; an evident sparkle
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasped the tiny hand,
the tell; an evident sparkle
in the eyes of the elderly man.
please don't see it as a rewrite, it was just easier doing it that way than trying to sat the same thing in the body of the poem proper.
i find it hard to give feedback on this kind of poem as i don't know if it's personal or not, but it's in serious so i'm replying as normal.
i think a stricter meter might also help you cut some of the slackness out of the poem, also check out your rhymes, can they be done better?
why A father and not My father in the last verse
as always thanks for the read.
(06-14-2014, 09:12 PM)fim Wrote: Hands of Time
fim 6/13/14
Old wrinkled fingers stretched and curled
tenderly grasping the tiny toddler’s hand,
but the tell was the sparkle that was ever-so evident
in the eyes of the elderly man.
As my father and son walked hand in hand
my heart swelled with overwhelming joy,
I was certain I was watching how the man who raised me
cherished me as a little boy.
My memory can’t remember back that far,
though I know he loved me throughout his life,
I’d like to think I provided him with the joy
that I can now see in his eyes.
A father is a care-giver who is forever imprinted
on the hearts and minds of the children he raised,
a person who lives beyond the number of his years
in stories in which he is praised.
