03-08-2017, 05:27 AM
Hello Todd,
I am sorry I didn't comment on this poem sooner. I wasn't able to give it the consideration it deserves. I keep seeing light whispery wisps and color, like those gauzy polyester scarves, the floaty ones, from the 60's that would cover curlers and smelled like hairspray. The ones a magician would find good use for, stuffing many in a fake thumb, leaving all to wonder "how did his hand hold so many?" Gentle, though...not mean or cruel, but effectively showy and, well, holding a secret sort of beauty. I liked the poem very much.
The morning is for Rachmaninoff and bees, this couplet is strangely indicative of imprisonment
and the soft steps of pollened feet,
as black separates from white. I see cowboy hats, but I'm never sure who's wearing what
The sun is a bronze chime This a ringing to gather, calling to an escape that is feasible.
and half the bed shivers. There's someone/something missing where there was once warmth and joy.
In the copper glow, this can mean a few things. I imagine it is warmth
the dew on the leaf leaving for a place of serenity and help
is a dappled darkness.
Dappled darkness reminds me of when I am painting something
dark or cold on canvas and sprinkle the finished work with a brighter
color, usually white. I think those two words should remain, very genius to the poem.
Thank you for this wonderful read.
I hope you are showered with all
sorts of beauty and blessings today!
(I apologize for my fonts mishap.
It went a little haywire from preview
to post and I don't know how to fix it yet.
I made several attempts.)
I am sorry I didn't comment on this poem sooner. I wasn't able to give it the consideration it deserves. I keep seeing light whispery wisps and color, like those gauzy polyester scarves, the floaty ones, from the 60's that would cover curlers and smelled like hairspray. The ones a magician would find good use for, stuffing many in a fake thumb, leaving all to wonder "how did his hand hold so many?" Gentle, though...not mean or cruel, but effectively showy and, well, holding a secret sort of beauty. I liked the poem very much.
The morning is for Rachmaninoff and bees, this couplet is strangely indicative of imprisonment
and the soft steps of pollened feet,
as black separates from white. I see cowboy hats, but I'm never sure who's wearing what
The sun is a bronze chime This a ringing to gather, calling to an escape that is feasible.
and half the bed shivers. There's someone/something missing where there was once warmth and joy.
In the copper glow, this can mean a few things. I imagine it is warmth
the dew on the leaf leaving for a place of serenity and help
is a dappled darkness.
Dappled darkness reminds me of when I am painting something
dark or cold on canvas and sprinkle the finished work with a brighter
color, usually white. I think those two words should remain, very genius to the poem.
Thank you for this wonderful read.
I hope you are showered with all
sorts of beauty and blessings today!
(I apologize for my fonts mishap.
It went a little haywire from preview
to post and I don't know how to fix it yet.
I made several attempts.)
there's always a better reason to love