As her words—as flowers
speak of silence—frost must be
to dim the windows of a past
denied not her nor me.
I shall only watch her while
before no clearing glass
to see the form. The Mistress still
lays dew upon the grass.
15 May 07
Rated 10 (8.8) by 1 users.
Active (1): 10
Inactive (7): 1, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10
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If i understand this, then bravo.
I think you understand it is,
the first part is direct quote of one of her diadems of penetrating truth.
The second part is my work, an elegy for Emily Dickinson,
she who still nurtures by dew new generations of grass.
Yet, she lived her life in isolation and never dreamed
that her work would not only be immortal, could not know
her works would foster life in poets and readers
of all generations yet to come.
She is a lasting flower after all, the only one.
Only one is needed.
I don't normally rate poems numerically
- would we stoop, to weigh and measure the faculty of art
apparently i would, a 10
visually i don't like those solid lines
Thank you so very much. I may excise the bordering lines.
They are there in effort to ensure no-one mistakes the E.D. portion as being my own.
Too, there is a distance between her and any of us. We are separated by that one-way
window. We can barely but truly see her. She cannot see us.
So perhaps in a way, the black lines serve as the metaphorical frosted
panes which we cannot pass through. They are no portals except for visions.
Again, thank you for your kind encouragement.
OK! I've just removed the lower, balancing black line.
I see you were right.
Now there's just the one "window",
so to speak.
is no portal
but for visions
you are a good person
a frosted condition just melted away. ahhh, thank you!
Wonderful tribute to a great writer.
The Mistress still
lays dew upon the grass
very nicely done.
Thanks all. I have decided to simplify the item.
I'll retitle it from "A form of Emily" to "Elegy for Emily",
I'll strip her quoted poem. I'll add some Dickinsonian "m" dashes
for the diction cues. I think it will only be better this way.
The early reading up above will preserve what had been here.
It's always good to get some silent "1" down-ratings
without a word of commentary.
What a place this is not.
The lower the numerical rankling
the more truth I learn of just
how good this item really is.
Why, thank you. Do it again.
Emily Dickenson was a great poet and has been an inspiration to me. What i particularly liked about your poem was the idea of glass used as a symbol to depict the impenetrable barrier into the past. It echoes for me, although the theme is different, the truly wonerful poem "Snow" by Macneice which explores the variour fantasies and variousness of the world through just such an image. It is one of the few poems I know by heart and I must have read it or spoken it a thousand times dreaming that if I could only write one poem like that.....
Larry vain hopes lark
that last line
reminds me of a really old one i wrote
"...when the dew is not yet on the grass
but waits within
saved for last..."
it's not up here
so i can't link it, for you net ;)