The Touch "small tweaks", A Sonnet Options

[Larry]

The Touch

Their soundless screams reverberate with grief
that pierces hearts for all the centuries
of fading life. While scions, stem and leaf,
lie crushed beneath their ancient weight. No breeze

shall herald new beginnings in the spring
or sculpt the emerald crowns upon each head.
Strong bastions from the storms that summer brings
are laid in waste. Small denizens have fled

their home and larder, solace now denied
by death. No songs will greet the morn’ to surge
in airy heights, where once the swallow plied.
A mournful sound, as though a quiet dirge

now permeates this devastated glade
created from the touch of soulless blade.


L10 did begin with "to all".

L9 did read: by death. No songs to greet the morn’ converge

[Larry]

And Hello once more Liz,

I should write nothing but sonnets when such exuberant pleasure is derived from them. Glad you enjoyed.

About the title; there are numerous underlying meanings to "The Touch". I usually add the title after the poem has been written and aside from the obvious "touch" of the woodsman's axe (or in this case, a horizontal steel saw blade), there are so many other things that are touched by this tragedy. Animals, insects, food, nests, colors of the fall, new buds in the spring, ME, and even the very air we breath have been, in some way, touched. Thus, the title! I'm always open to viable suggestions.

Didn't mean to make you sad but I guess when someone shares their feelings of sadness, such things happen.

Larry