STAY AWHILE~

[tectak]

Please read the comments at end first.
Grey swells adorn the horizon and sprinkle lightly upon the earth
The roar of thunder is heard in the distance whilst I seek the crash of lightthird person and first person are confused in the opening lines. either you, the writer, are relating this story or the rest of us are as in "thunder is heard" rather than "I hear the roar of..." . Same problems next line then back to first person. "crash of light" is a nonsensical simile which disturbs the confidence in the meteorological credibility of the writer,
Alas, only the roar is heardrepeat of roar, alas
Cool are the drops that I graspYoda speak. Why not " I grasp the cool drops". If there was any rhythm to the piece which must rigorously be adhered to, then there may be some purpose in the mangled english. I fear that the worst is yet to come.
Escaping though tightly clenched fingers as gravity has its way
East, west, north, and south there is no sight of blueWhat connects this line and the line above? Answer. The absence of punctuation. That is all. There does nor seem to be any attempt to lead from gravity to sans blue.
Ah, but the green! The green is seenDreadful contrivance which seems unnoticed. Ah, the green is seen, that green I mean that's seen in beans. Yuk. This needs looking at. The "Ah", is probably a little over-dramatic in its context. A sigh of such heartfelt sincerity would warrant a much more captivating vista than the green, the green that's seen
Lush and glorious
Intoxicating the nostrils with every breathI have never come across intoxicated nostrils....what happens? Do they fall over or are they just swaying about. This is not poetic licence...this is poor metaphor.
Eyes closed dismiss the unnatural sounds making way to silence undisturbedEXCELLENT! Though we still have hearing eyes. Needs tightening up.
Journeys need not be made via transport of the usual kindSuddenly, we are in the middle of a Public Information Broadcast. Not genre sensitive. This line is totally out of place. It is in the wrong poem. Again, I fear it will get much, much worse
Nay! My mind takes me where I chooseYahooooo. This is just so bad it is GREAT. Where are we now? The NAYS have it, but what are we naysaying about? I have no idea!
Light the skies oh nature's formGot to be a typo, please let it be a typo. Must be "of", surely!
The bolts of the gods fly mighty
The land and sea take fancy to the storm
As life twirls about in ecstasy
Driven sideways, air has it way with waterGone. Lost me. No idea what, or more importantly, when, I am.
Ah...some mistake here, surely. This is an accidental copying in of another poem, yes? It would appear to be about 1500 years too late and by someone else. I shall not crit it. Anyway, it is making me cringe sire, forsooth. Pray dost thow knowest the perpetrator of this lack lustre tale. Prithee advise, for I am fayne twere its an gelding or an lamb. And furthermore, I am an hairy man, forsooth.....oh, enough already. I need a drink from my holy grail.
Weary traveler, take thy time with thy hostess
Let she sup with thee
Thy cup emptied shall be filled tenfold
And thy plate engorgedHuh?
Tis mine the fancy to fulfill thee
Where dost thou roam on lonely roads
Whose only avenue is a new fork or cross
Where dost decision play in thy mind?
To what end is thy journey?
Stay awhile
My hand wands and waves the quarters assuring the shareHuh? again. Clarify this if possible. It is irritatingly gobbledegook
Shall the traveler raise his thoughts to speech?
Or does the road call more loudly?
To this comes the silent answer
Tis known that thy head is used to the full of a feather bed
But the warmth of straw and hearth does bear merit
My stew is not as hearty as fine spiced meats
Nor is my plate gold
But tender is mine hand and adoring is my offer
The finery of fools besieges me not
Nor does the foul smell nor pallor faces of the dead
Graceful is my life dear traveler
Stay awhile
Tis naught of often thou hangs thy hat
The roaming of village to village
Seeking
What finds thee? What dost thou seek?
How loud dost the wind call? How hard dost it push?
Dost thy heels bear wings?
Wilt thou ride Pegasus or attempt the acts of Icarus?
Let she sup with thee
Speak of thine own being
Let sound resonate in stories and create illusions drawn pretty with every stroke
That elaborates upon the wag of the tongue
Pray tell speak!
Pricked are my awaiting ears
O dearest traveler
Stay awhile ~ Arachne

Arachne by name.....but what a web you weave. You would be the only spider needing to trail a single thread to find your way back home. I am sorry if this criticism seems harsh, but I call it as I see it. Perhaps you would be just as brutally honest with one of my lowly efforts...after all, that is how we learn.
Best,
tectak