Hobe Sound

[Truerenigma]

Hobe Sound is two syllables. as a kid I thought it was hope sound because of the way some of the locals pronounced it.

[milo]

Hobe Sound is two syllables. as a kid I thought it was hope sound because of the way some of the locals pronounced it.

Yah, read what I wrote

[Truerenigma]

kersin hobesound is pyrrhic spondee, or iamb spondee.

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one or the other

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right? if not it i could replace hobe with the definite article, given the title i think the location would still be clear.

[milo]

kersin hobesound is pyrrhic spondee, or iamb spondee.

---

one or the other

A 3 syllable spondee?! This is new to me.

[Truerenigma]

what? HOBE IS ONE SYLLABLE

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rhymes with strobe, lobe etc

[milo]

what? HOBE IS ONE SYLLABLE

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rhymes with strobe, lobe etc

You just said it was two syllables. . .

[Truerenigma]

I said hobe sound is two syllables. hobe is one of the two.

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so were good then right?

[milo]

I said hobe sound is two syllables. hobe is one of the two.

---

so were good then right?

Yah, I looked it up, it is ho-be in the north and hobe in the south. Your next sonnet better not be about the hope Indians . . .

[Truerenigma]

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around;

the blues don't match the breakers in Hobe Sound,
the ocean's unrealistic.-- would you then

return to hold my hand, to paint the sand?
My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground

beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said

it is impossible to shade these lines!
They dry too fast, and chip away. Instead

I wonder which are yours entwined in mine,
while I engrave the stone above your head.










Second edit:


Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around --
there's too much grey, the way it boils down,
this ocean's unrealistic -- would you then
return, and guide these hands that paint the sand?

My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground
beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said,
it is impossible to shape these lines!
They dry too fast, and chip away. Instead,
I wonder which are yours, entwined in mine,
while I engrave the stone above your head.










Edit per milo

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around --
there's too much grey, the way it boils down,
this ocean's unrealistic -- would you then
return, and guide these hands that paint the sand?

My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground
beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said
to you, this is impossible! The lines
made by the brush just chip away. Instead,
I wonder which are yours, and what are mine,
while I engrave the stone above your head.




Original Post:

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around --
there's too much grey, the way it boils down,
this ocean's unrealistic -- would you then
return, to teach me how to paint the sand?

My fingers shook and bristles scraped the ground
beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You who could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said
to you, this is impossible! The lines
left by the brush just chip away. Instead,
I wondered which were yours, and which were mine,
while I engraved the stone above your head.

I love the third edit. For me the slow down was just what I needed. While it got to me in its other forms, this one just whacked me. I think maybe the addition of a location grounded it for me, too. Great job, great editing lesson. Thanks.

thank you ellajam

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I said hobe sound is two syllables. hobe is one of the two.

---

so were good then right?

Yah, I looked it up, it is ho-be in the north and hobe in the south. Your next sonnet better not be about the hope Indians . . .

it is in the south. i have never heard ho-be, unless there's another hobe sound, in which case the title should be hobe sound fl

hope indians is a good one. I'll get right on it.

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seeing as how you were thinking of the hope indian when i said i thought it was hope sound as a kid, i can see wher the confusion occured. next you're going to tell me that y'all pronounce it miami-ee.

[tectak]

Hi true,
I love it in spite of a quite remarkable resemblance to Opiteff. Seriously. Better all ways. The title works for the poem, not instead of it. Great. Few nits...mostly pedantic. That's me.
Tectak

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around;I would be happier if you accepted this as a "list" of supposes. So comma

the blues don't match the breakers in Hobe Sound,...and here
the ocean's unrealistic.-- would you thenNow get rid of the period/dash combination. What the hell is that? Start the next sentence on "Would..."

return to hold my hand, to paint the sand?
My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground

beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.Just bloody beautiful

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said...skies. Suppose I said,

it is impossible to shade these lines!
They dry too fast, and chip away. Instead

I wonder which are yours entwined in mine,
while I engrave the stone above your head.Hey...Epitiff would be a goo...forget it. It's a keeper. Bold workshopping pays real dividends. Well done!><










Second edit:


Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around --
there's too much grey, the way it boils down,
this ocean's unrealistic -- would you then
return, and guide these hands that paint the sand?

My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground
beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said,
it is impossible to shape these lines!
They dry too fast, and chip away. Instead,
I wonder which are yours, entwined in mine,
while I engrave the stone above your head.










Edit per milo

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around --
there's too much grey, the way it boils down,
this ocean's unrealistic -- would you then
return, and guide these hands that paint the sand?

My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground
beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said
to you, this is impossible! The lines
made by the brush just chip away. Instead,
I wonder which are yours, and what are mine,
while I engrave the stone above your head.




Original Post:

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around --
there's too much grey, the way it boils down,
this ocean's unrealistic -- would you then
return, to teach me how to paint the sand?

My fingers shook and bristles scraped the ground
beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You who could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies, suppose I said
to you, this is impossible! The lines
left by the brush just chip away. Instead,
I wondered which were yours, and which were mine,
while I engraved the stone above your head.

[Truerenigma]

Edited again. Small changes made to L13 and punctuation. When you're right you're right, Tom.

It is done. (I think)

[milo]

Suppose I said the colors do not blend
together like they did with you around,

the blues don't match the breakers in Hobe Sound,
the ocean's unrealistic. Would you then

return to hold my hand, to paint the sand?
My fingers shake and bristles scrape the ground

beyond the palms, the fields, the church, the town.
I cut a jagged scar into the land.

You could paint the music in the pines,
and birdsong in the skies. Suppose I said

it is impossible to shade these lines!
They dry too fast, and chip away. Instead

I wonder at how yours entwine in mine
while I engrave the stone above your head.

I know you are pretty much done with this, and overall, I have to say I quite like where you have gone with it, there are 1 or 2 very minor points of polish maybe:

I wonder if " . . to paint the sand" would read better " . . help paint the sand" to eliminate the double "to"'s

and finally, the promoted "at" in the final couplet bothers me. Really, any hard syllable would probably work, maybe even an adjective . . . "struck" "blind" "pale" "shocked" "numb"

anyway, think about it, so far it all looks good.

[Truerenigma]

Final. L13 complete rewritten. Small changes to L5.