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[George]

I feel this poem is missing something probably many things..... please help.

They breeze through us in the wake of the morning –
Searching, but for what? Like children awake all night
at Christmas Eve, expecting his late, but arrival none the
Less.
They lick the tips of our noses, their tongues as wet
as the salty drops of our sweat,
warm as the freshly brewed coffee on our counters.

In the evening their presence has been forgotten,
Sitting on the base of our sink, underneath the dirty dishes,
staining the bottom of our cupboards and drawers,
until we notice them again when the sun rises.

[Erthona]

George,

They breeze through us in the wake of the morning –
Searching, but for what? Like children awake all night
at Christmas Eve, expecting his late, but arrival none the
Less.
They lick the tips of our noses, their tongues as wet
as the salty drops of our sweat,
warm as the freshly brewed coffee on our counters.

In the evening their presence has been forgotten,
Sitting on the base of our sink, underneath the dirty dishes,
staining the bottom of our cupboards and drawers,
until we notice them again when the sun rises.

You need a better grasp on your subject if you are going to use it as an extended metaphor. If the "it" is going to metamorphosize into different things due to temperature you are going to have to stick with a known commodity like "Jack Frost", or drop this altogether, as what you are describing is not the same thing. Water in the sink is different from frost. Unless you give "Frost" a character that can melt into the sink, I don't see a way to pull this off, and then how does the water in the sink get ourside to great the sun?. First thing though is drop the "they". Say, "It is cold when it..." "then finally running out of steam (sorry, couldn't resist) it drips onto the plates in the sink..." I do not believe you can bring it full circle as you have tried, without doing a major reworking of this poem, plus being much longer. In fact it makes my mind hurt just to think of trying to do it. I think I could, I just can't figure out why I would want to.

Luck,

Dale

[George]

George,

They breeze through us in the wake of the morning –
Searching, but for what? Like children awake all night
at Christmas Eve, expecting his late, but arrival none the
Less.
They lick the tips of our noses, their tongues as wet
as the salty drops of our sweat,
warm as the freshly brewed coffee on our counters.

In the evening their presence has been forgotten,
Sitting on the base of our sink, underneath the dirty dishes,
staining the bottom of our cupboards and drawers,
until we notice them again when the sun rises.

You need a better grasp on your subject if you are going to use it as an extended metaphor. If the "it" is going to metamorphosize into different things due to temperature you are going to have to stick with a known commodity like "Jack Frost", or drop this altogether, as what you are describing is not the same thing. Water in the sink is different from frost. Unless you give "Frost" a character that can melt into the sink, I don't see a way to pull this off, and then how does the water in the sink get ourside to great the sun?. First thing though is drop the "they". Say, "It is cold when it..." "then finally running out of steam (sorry, couldn't resist) it drips onto the plates in the sink..." I do not believe you can bring it full circle as you have tried, without doing a major reworking of this poem, plus being much longer. In fact it makes my mind hurt just to think of trying to do it. I think I could, I just can't figure out why I would want to.

Luck,

Dale

Thanks, its a bad habit of mine when I try to create too many images that I think would be cool but does not fit into the context of the poem at all. Alot of that needs to be scrapped.

Disregarding the full cycle with the morning and night, do you think the last stanza of this poem is okay or does it need reworking too? I'm trying to describe it as a wind, how it breezes past us and finally settles and sticks to the things we ignore, thought it would be cool if i gave the poem a smooth motion.