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PICNIC BY LIMAY |
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Jun 17 05, 13:40
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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PICNIC BY LIMAY
My father swerves our old Ford off the pebbled highway. We kids sway in back of the truck, excited knuckles clasped at handrail. Clouds of dust spiral up, solid and possessive as the brown steppes.
Noonday squints, unforgiving, through earthy glare.
Identical thorn-bushes lend prickly shade to the roadside; a martinette whistles in solitary flight over low vegetation. The landscape is flat, not revealing anything of moment. Neither does the sky. Birds don’t sing.
An empty world breathes soil and light as we bounce over unlikely tracks. Limpid river, snaking out of nowhere, hums nostalgic airs from its source in Nahuel Huapi. Limay pipes softly of The Enchanted Valley*, of white waters hailing majestic rocks shaped like breasts and phalluses. Eons ago, they were sculptured by Mapuche gods.
Fertility chants to Mother Rock and Father Sky, fluttering over Limay’s sacred waters.
Pehuén offers shade for the Ford. We jump out and run to water’s edge, already in swimsuits. My mother’s is somebody’s castoff navy-blue Jansen. She’s milky white, timid; plump legs dimple beautifully. Mine is elasticized flowery cotton, two sizes big. It flaps wetly on my chest.
Water is crazily cold under desert sun. ...splash splash splash...
Later, it’s tinned paste sandwiches, boiled eggs and apples, crouching under wild broom-flowers. Sunburn. My father bundles us into hot Ford for drive home on rutted highway. Sweat and grime form runnels on our skin.
Next summer we’ll go back, says my father, drinking black beer in our scented garden.
By Psyche
Limay = river in Patagonia. Means limpid, white, in Mapuche language. Nahuel Huapi = Jaguar Island, in Mapuche. Now is name of a lake. The Enchanted Valley = Where Limay river cuts thru' high rocks with fantastic shapes. Mapuche = Earth People. Pehuén = Araucaria, similar to Monkey Puzzle Tree.
From Patagonia Lost, Copyright Sylvia Maclagan, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2005.
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Guest_Nina_*
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Jun 18 05, 00:38
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Guest
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Hi Sylvia
You have captured so well your childhood memory of a family outing. Reading it, gives a sense of warmth, time spent together enjoying spending time together, a time when life was simpler and fun was splashing around in the river in beautiful countryside.
To me your story reads more like prose than poetry and I think it would be interesting written as a short story, perhaps filling in some more details.
Thanks for this lovely trip down memory lane.
Nina
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Guest_KnightWolf_*
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Jun 19 05, 01:00
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Guest
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Psyche,
I agree totally with nina. Also, I loved reading this, and felt very much like i was there. Wonderful job, and excellent images you paint.
Nick
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Guest_Toumai_*
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Jun 19 05, 07:58
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Guest
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Hi Sylvia,
Is your Patagonian collection now published? (Looking at the copyright below your poem) :cheer:
If so, my suggestions are completely irrelevent. Anyway, as usual, they may be of interest, but disregard if they distract from your intentions.
I love this description of the scenery and your day out as a child; very evocative.
Suggestions: [add] {remove}
PICNIC BY LIMAY
My father swerves our old Ford off the pebbled highway. --- metalled ? (or was it rocky, too?) We kids sway in back of the truck, excited knuckles clasped at handrail. Clouds of dust curl {around us}, --- use 'us' a lot solid and possessive as the brown steppes. Noonday squints at us, unforgiving, through earthy glare. Identical thorn-bushes lend prickly shade to the roadside; a martinette whistles in solitary flight over low vegetation. The landscape is flat, doesn’t reveal anything of moment. --- revealing nothing ... ? Neither does the sky. Birds don’t sing. An empty world breathes soil and light{ on us}. --- lovely line!
We bounce over unlikely tracks. Limpid river, snaking {towards us} out of nowhere, hums nostalgic airs from its source in Nahuel Huapi. Limay pipes softly of The Enchanted Valley*, of white waters hailing majestic rocks shaped like breasts and phalluses. Eons ago, they were sculptured by Mapuche gods. Fertility chants to Mother Rock and Father Sky, fluttering over Limay’s sacred waters. --- lovely history
Pehuén offers shade for the Ford. We jump out and run to water’s edge, already in {our} swimsuits. My mother’s is somebody’s castoff navy-blue Jansen. She’s milky white, [timid, ]her plump legs dimple beautifully. {She looks timid.} Mine is elasticized flowery cotton, two sizes big. I feel awkward around my chest {area}. Water is crazily cold under desert sun. ...splash splash splash...
Later, it’s tinned paste sandwiches, boiled eggs and apples, crouching under wild broom-flowers. Sunburn. My father bundles us into hot Ford for drive home on rutted highway. Sweat and grime form runnels on our skin. Next year we’ll go back, says my father, drinking black beer in our scented garden.
Limay = river in Patagonia. Means limpid, white, in Mapuche language. Nahuel Huapi = Jaguar Island, in Mapuche. Now is name of a lake. The Enchanted Valley = Where Limay river cuts thru' high rocks with fantastic shapes. Mapuche = Earth People. Pehuén = Araucaria, similar to Monkey Puzzle Tree.
We have cryptic crosswords set by 'Araucaria' in England. :cool:
Hugs,
Fran
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Jun 23 05, 05:10
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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What a wonderful journey Sylvia!
I've enjoyed this one and will be back again soon to offer some deeper comments.
Cheers! ~Cleo
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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Jul 5 05, 10:53
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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QUOTE(Nina @ June 18 2005, 03:38) Hi Sylvia
You have captured so well your childhood memory of a family outing. Reading it, gives a sense of warmth, time spent together enjoying spending time together, a time when life was simpler and fun was splashing around in the river in beautiful countryside.
To me your story reads more like prose than poetry and I think it would be interesting written as a short story, perhaps filling in some more details.
Thanks for this lovely trip down memory lane.
Nina Hi Nina ! :sun:
Thank you for your always valuable comments. I absolutely agree with you, this is more like prose than poetry. I hope, one day, to write stories on these topics. These are like the notes for some future story.... some day !!
For the moment, I have a section in my "Patagonia Lost" collection, which I call "A Poet's Journal". Inside that section, I have put poems like these, which tell a mini-story, or something like that ! Shock We'll see what comes of it all...
Thanks, Nina, hugs, Sylvia :turtle:
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jul 5 05, 10:58
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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QUOTE(KnightWolf @ June 19 2005, 04:00) Psyche,
I agree totally with nina. Also, I loved reading this, and felt very much like i was there. Wonderful job, and excellent images you paint.
Nick Hi Nick !
So glad you enjoyed the picnic in the wilds of Patagonia... :speechless:
I have included prose pieces like this one in a special section of my Patagonian collection, which I have called, tentatively, "A Poet's Journal". Goodness knows what I might eventually decide to do... :speechless: I would love to write short stories, but all I can do now is fling memories onscreen which, hopefully, are reasonably constructed.
Thank you for dropping by, Sylvia :turtle:
······· ·······
Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jul 5 05, 11:19
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Fran !
I am MOST grateful for your indications. You've pinpointed the exact words that are dispensable in this piece of mine.
I have edited my Picnic, removing most of the "us's", as you so rightly suggested. I also removed and/or switched some words according to your comments. Right on !!
I believe it has improved considerably thanks to your help. :pharoah2
Do please forgive my delay in answering people's comments. Last week hubby was quite ill, I'm still coping with several issues to do with his health.
Coming to MM is a great distraction from one's daily problems !! :laugh: Thank you again for your invaluable assistance, hugs, Sylvia :turtle:
······· ·······
Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jul 5 05, 11:21
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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QUOTE(Cleo_Serapis @ June 23 2005, 08:10) What a wonderful journey Sylvia!
I've enjoyed this one and will be back again soon to offer some deeper comments.
Cheers! ~Cleo Thank you, Cleo !! :sun:
It was great to have you at our picnic, do come back whenever you feel you can risk the sunburn... Shock
Hugs, Sylvia :turtle:
······· ·······
Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jul 5 05, 11:41
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hello Grace ! :sun:
I've been AWOL from MM, please forgive (Carlos has been ill, I'm still trying to cope... ).
Love to come here and view people's poems & comments, but can't seem to manage Flashes AND answering or posting more stuff... Shock
Only one part threw me slightly. The second half of the second stanza seemed to take on a very grown-up point of view
....hailing majestic rocks shaped like breasts and phalluses. Eons ago, they were sculptured by Mapuche gods. Fertility chants to Mother Rock and Father Sky, fluttering over Limay’s sacred waters.
You've made an interesting point here, Grace. I shall have to re-consider this part. My only justification can be that it's written long after the event (prefer not to say HOW long... :p ), dear me !! Meaning that I didn't think about the erotic shapes of the rocks back then, at least I hope not !!
BTW, that section of the Limay River really is magnificent, the rocks have the most incredible formations. It's several kilometres long and the highway clings to the sides of mountains, borders precipices, it's thrilling. When I was a child, the road was terribly dangerous, not even paved.
Which reminds, I'll answer Fran's question here. The roads were really pebbled when I was a child. They were actually constructed of small, loose pebbles, rather like some British & French beaches. The pebbles often flew up and smashed our windshield, which was not re-inforced in those days, could shatter quite easily... Shock Our vehicles, often jeeps, used to swerve over the pebbles, skidding around, and eventually the wheels made deep ruts which one had to drive along. Occasionally, one would meet another vehicle coming in the opposite direction, and it was quite a problem deciding who was to abandon the marked ruts in the road to let the other vehicle pass... All in the middle of nothing..... Shock
A martinette is a species of heron. I'm sure I saw it written like this somewhere, but I've forgotten where. Perhaps it's French... :detective: Will do some checking, thank you, Grace.
Yes, I like my poems to be a sort of journey or story. Do me best !! :cool:
Love, Sylvia :turtle:
······· ·······
Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jul 8 05, 05:23
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Mosaic Master
Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep
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Hi Sylvia!
I enjoyed your picnic again and this time, I didn't get a sunburn!
I enjoyed this scenery and the voice you chose to use to narrate the picnic.
Well done! I love these poems in your Patagonia collection!
Here are some ideas for you to ponder. {delete} [add]
I also re-arranged the stanzas to give the stronger scenes/points couplets of their own.....
HUGS ~Cleo
My father swerves our old Ford off the pebbled highway. We kids sway in back of the truck, excited knuckles clasped at handrail. Clouds of dust spiral up, solid and possessive as the brown steppes.
Noonday squints, unforgiving, through earthy glare.
{Identical} [Like] thorn-bushes lend prickly shade to the roadside; a martinette whistles in solitary flight over low vegetation. The landscape is flat, {doesn’t} [not] reveal[ing] anything of [the] moment. Neither does the sky. Birds don’t sing.
An empty world breathes soil and light {on us} [as] {.} we bounce over {unlikely} [unusual] tracks.
Limpid river, snaking out of nowhere, hums nostalgic airs from its source in Nahuel Huapi. Limay pipes softly of The Enchanted Valley*, of white waters hailing majestic rocks shaped like breasts and phalluses. Eons ago, they were sculptured by Mapuche gods.
Fertility chants to Mother Rock and Father Sky, fluttering over Limay’s sacred waters.
Pehuén offers shade for the Ford. We jump out and run to water’s edge, already in swimsuits. My mother’s is {somebody’s} [someone's] castoff navy-blue Jansen. She’s milky white, timid{,} [; her] plump legs dimpling beautifully. Mine is elasticized flowery cotton, two sizes big. I[t] feel[s] awkward {around} [covering] my chest.
Water is crazily cold under desert sun. ...splash splash splash...
Later, it’s tinned paste sandwiches, boiled eggs and apples, crouching under wild broom-flowers. Sunburn. My father bundles us into hot Ford for drive home on rutted highway. Sweat and grime form runnels on our skin.
Next year we’ll go back, says my father, drinking black beer in our scented garden.
······· ·······
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the RingsCollaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind. "I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. KanterNominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here! "Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.MM Award Winner
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Jul 8 05, 09:58
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,770
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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G'mornin' Cleo !! :sun:
Thank you so much for joining the picnic :cloud9:
I've introduced several changes, thanks to your suggestions. I especially appreciate the stanza breaks. I tend to forget about breaks, thanks a lot for pointing that out :pharoah2
I followed most of your advice, I learn such a lot from all you people !! :cool:
I've left "doesn't reveal anything of moment", because I believe "of moment" means "of importance", in this context. (Grace didn't object to that.... and I have enormous faith in her judgement... :) , so it's staying unless you ALL sit on me and tell me it must go.... :jester: )
Just one other thing I left as it is, but must rush off now, duty calls, calls, calls....
Hugs & many thanks, Cleo, Sylvia :turtle:
······· ·······
Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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