A Small Bridge After Rain

[Sparkydashforth]

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water.
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells;
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps.
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees.

[Lizzie]

Hi Sparky! A couple of thoughts for you:

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water.
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells;
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps.
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds. -- I take this to mean that there's fog?
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward -- small is a weak adjective
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath, -- likewise with 'lean over' -- it's pretty bland
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. -- this is a great image. Gross and humorous at the same time.

It's a beautiful scene study. I want it to have more emotional depth, but it doesn't need to be more than it is to be lovely. If you want to take it to the next level, it's going to need another element that provides insight or tension.

I'm enjoying your work.

[Sparkydashforth]

Thanks Liziep, fine review from you.

Before moving to America I used to reside in the Peak District (a National Park in England).
This poem is just a simple pastiche of a memory. The bridge was a sheep-wash bridge
(one that has enclosures to wash sheep in at one end). It was also a Pack Bridge, built in the
days when pack horses traversed the country bring trade goods to rural parts.


https://www.kingandmcgaw.com/prints/jean...1::media:0


On certain days it can seem that the sheep up on the moors intermingled with the low clouds.
My former house had a small hill behind it and if you approached it at a certain angle
it looked as if cows were grazing on the roof.

I want to keep this poem just an observation, and an impression, but I take your point
about emotional depth and import.

Thanks again.

Hi Sparky! A couple of thoughts for you:

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water.
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells;
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps.
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds. -- I take this to mean that there's fog?
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward -- small is a weak adjective
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath, -- likewise with 'lean over' -- it's pretty bland
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. -- this is a great image. Gross and humorous at the same time.

It's a beautiful scene study. I want it to have more emotional depth, but it doesn't need to be more than it is to be lovely. If you want to take it to the next level, it's going to need another element that provides insight or tension.

I'm enjoying your work.

[Achebe]

I'm

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water.     .....'splish' is just perfect 
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells; .... 'thunderheads drummed' - beautiful.
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light. .... these three lines are exquisite. 'Limestone light' is magical.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps. ..... again, great detail 
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.... although a pretty picture, it's a sudden change from the river...
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. ......the last three lines, magical again 

This poem breathes beautiful lines, but after 'limestone' light, they start to lose unity. One doesn't lead on to the next. Rather, the reader is presented a mashup of images. I think that's where it starts reading more like an essay than a poem.

[Sparkydashforth]

Hi Achebe,

great feedback.
Much obliged to you.

I'm

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water.     .....'splish' is just perfect 
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells; .... 'thunderheads drummed' - beautiful.
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light. .... these three lines are exquisite. 'Limestone light' is magical.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps. ..... again, great detail 
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.... although a pretty picture, it's a sudden change from the river...
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. ......the last three lines, magical again 

This poem breathes beautiful lines, but after 'limestone' light, they start to lose unity. One doesn't lead on to the next. Rather, the reader is presented a mashup of images. I think that's where it starts reading more like an essay than a poem.

[RiverNotch]

Writ on phone -- i think this could all be cut down. not so much that he sense is changed, just enough so that the best bits are purified. it's already lovely work, but righ now, for me it reads a bit redundant, overeager to show something. and so:

A stone bridge drips a splish
of mossy water. as much as the first line sounds a beauty, the title (which for me evokes the simon and garfunkel song, too) shows the bridge enough that we could skip ahead to where i think the poem really launches off, both sonically and narratively.
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells; but for that to work, i see the need for compression. the next line cuts, in a bad way, the heav, thunder-like sounds of 'yesterday...', as well as being a bit dangerous sense-wise, i haven't heard land pour down instead of season -- skip straight to the luminous image of the village leaking light, instead, then to the river washing away swans (with a line that feels just as tad wordy, but considering the suggested omissions, it would instad prove a reprieve), connecting all with a semicolon and an 'and'.
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps.
Today, trout are back in their pools. ach, this reads right, but ecologically feels wrong -- i remember something about fish being easiest to catch in a moonlit rainstorm. then again, that's out in a tropical sea, so...
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward shouldn't have any commas, this. also introducing the bridge here is better, but perhaps something more vivid, this is i think the (still fair) nadir of the whole thing -- maybe move the first line here? 'the stone bridge, bounding from sward to sward, / drips splishes of mossy water.' or something -- i can neve  see water as being mossy, since i haven't seen a non-typhoon be that strong. or do you talk about algae?
to shingle strand.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge comma after while. also, this and the last line made me go 'wow!'. overall, lovely work.
rubs itself against my knees.

---

ps i think newly washed sheep etc meant the speaker looking at the river, seeing sheep reflection, sothat the movement goes from the depths of the pool, to the pool's reflection, tothe bridge itself, to the entire picture (with the dog reference a nod to the shepherd dog, perhaps?) as such, i think the end does flow well enough, just subtly -- while the beginning, though magnificent, doesn't really clear anything up, and considerig the first two lines, even diminishes the rest.

[Alic Elliot]

A stone bridge drips a splish A splish sounds, to put it bluntly, rather silly. 
of mossy water.
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells;
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps. I'm loving this imagery (Lines 3-6)
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward
to shingle strand. Very nice use of consonance here.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. Well, this is a bit of an odd comparison, but I get it.

Well, Sparky, this was overall a very nice poem. The imagery was great, the sonic devices. I usually hate to sing praise of poems, I'm not a choir girl and no poem is deity-like in the slightest, but this one is actually really nice in my opinion. Kudos.

Best, Alic.

[Sparkydashforth]

A stone bridge drips a splish A splish sounds, to put it bluntly, rather silly. 
of mossy water.
Yesterday thunderheads drummed the fells;
high moors poured down.
The village leaked a limestone light.
The river pushed swans onto grey slate steps. I'm loving this imagery (Lines 3-6)
Today, trout are back in their pools.
Newly washed sheep graze between the clouds.
The small bridge, bounds from grassy sward
to shingle strand. Very nice use of consonance here.
I lean over to watch the sky swim beneath,
while like a wet dog, the bridge
rubs itself against my knees. Well, this is a bit of an odd comparison, but I get it.

Well, Sparky, this was overall a very nice poem. The imagery was great, the sonic devices. I usually hate to sing praise of poems, I'm not a choir girl and no poem is deity-like in the slightest, but this one is actually really nice in my opinion. Kudos.

Best, Alic.

Thank you Alic!  I'm glad that despite your aversion to praising poetry you found some gold in this dross.
"Splish" is a bit silly now that I come to think of it!

L'chaim!