Yesterday and Tomorrow, Edited with additional stanza Options

[JaxMyth]

REVISION - extra stanza

Sunlight slips past the shade
and gilds the dust into fairy charms.
I ache and make wish upon wish
to hold you forever here in my arms.

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic flutter in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
hard and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.


ORIGINAL

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

[Peterpan]

Hello Jax

This is full of heart wrenching emotion! The imagination of the parent of a none-born child. I think, that a person longing for a child could have these haluccinations. This is very real. You have managed to 'twang' just the right spots, the emotions, the 'living' child and captured the feelings of emptyness eg, hollow hand, and the womb.

I simply cannot find a nit. I think there is no room for improvement! It is simply amazing.

Thank you for sharing this poem.

I will be back to see the other comments.

PP

[Terocon101]

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating I found the desperation powerful.
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair Maybe the second "I" is unnecessary
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

Hi Jax,

I've been reading about the bad weather you've been experiencing, keep up the faith and I hope things improve for you soon.

RE: Yesterday and Tomorrow
As I have come to expect from you this is another powerful piece of writing. To me, it conveys a sense of desperation that is tinged with almost insane grief. I can be a bit of an escapist from reality, but there is no escaping it when reading your writings. As in this piece, even though it comes across as almost a ghost-story, because there is a ghost of sorts.

I'm afraid I dont fully understand how the title 'Yesterday and Tomorrow' relates. Are you saying the desperate grief is always there and always will be, or....???

I'm going to have to look up 'crabscuttled' to be sure of it definition. Although I'm sure I understand its meaning in the context of this poem, which is back-handed praise of your ability.

Hope some of that is useful.

Terry

[Judi]

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating Not sure why you have a capital C for Child?
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

I wonder if down in her womb would sound better?

I am not sure that you mean the child has been lost, I think you mean you never had a child of your own...(I have been know to be wrong, but don't tell anyone...shhhhh.)

These were the only two nits I had...your work is always so well done. Judi

[Merlin]

Hello Jax,

I've mentioned before that I'm a complete dunce when it comes to figgering out deeper meanings, and I'll agree with some of the replies already received. "Child", fer instance, why the capital?

I think your opening line is magnificent. L2, however, is a judgment call - I personally wouldn't go with another bird so close. Words like "imprisoned" come to mind; and then of course, I'm not really into my eyes of blue settling upon the cage of bone. I know you need "bone" with "own", so I shall not moan.

L4 bothers me in that you made 1 adverb (closely) but not loudly. Consider strong, beside, nearby as possible subs.

My next lines are not meant to offend or compare to anything. They come from personal experience, and I'm wondering if they may be similar to what I'm reading here.
Horses - mares - will go thru what's known as false pregnancy. They display all indications of being in foal, complete with size and mannerisms. When the due date comes, there's no foal, even while the mare was preparing to deliver.

An interesting piece - leaves points to ponder.

Merlin

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Hi Jax,

This is so terribly sad! It all seemed so real that I was a bit surprised at the end to find that it was her imagination! Well done~ I couldn't even begin to imagine how this must feel but I think you must come quite close. You touched on a very sweet moment with a child... a nightly routine for most parents... and it felt so real as if actually experienced.

A thought or two for you to consider... use or lose~

Cathy


A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone. < I'm not sure about 'bird' twice so close together. Maybe you could use a specific bird... 'a frantic dove in a cage of bone.'? Or maybe you could leave 'bird' out of line 1 like...

'A mother's heart is imprisoned,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.'

Just a thought (and maybe not a good one) but would 'mockingbird' work? As though her body is mocking her greatest desire?

Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair IMO the second 'I' isn't needed.
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

Why 'hollow'? It sounds as though her hand has no blood or bone, just a shell. Wouldn't 'empty' describe your thoughts here?

I open the door and turn on the light < 'your' door maybe? It would eliminate one of three the's in two lines. Or 'no head on your pillow'?

...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

This leaves me with an empty feeling, as though a large part of life had been taken away. I looked in 4 dictionaries for 'crabscuttled' and couldn't find anything. Could you enlighten me please? *smiles*

[JustDaniel]

Greetings, JM. It's pleasant to see such a gifted writer here, from whom I hope to learn much. Thank you for this excellent, thought-provoking, evocative study.

I'm not so familiar with accentual verse, but I see that this one seems to have four accents per line; am I correct on that score? My reading of this finds the flow a little choppy with the accents coming sometimes at unexpected places. For me it took a few readings to imagine how you might read the lines smoothly... which hearing of course might change my mind totally.

I too stumbled over 'prisoned' and 'loud' but I think I see the use of them as you explain; I also find the repetition of 'bird' not particularly helpful ?

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

[ This feels like an actual child in the womb, close to the mother's heart ]

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh[,] and I reach for your hair[,]
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

[ This feels like an actual toddler ]

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you[,] Child...for no (-) one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

[ This seems to indicate that all of the above was a dream, or does it indicate a loss before birth ? or are you leaving it up to the reader... but just to feel the pain, whatever the situation may be ? Your 'crabscuttled' is a creative word indeed, but I'm not sure I grasp the picture just yet. ]

deLighting in the prospect of interaction, Daniel

[AMETHYST]

Hi Jax,

Glad to see you back and that things are in order. The severity of the weather has been a concern and I was wondering if you are directly affected and if you and your family are fine... I am hoping so ...

Whenever I see a post of yours I try to prepare myself for a 'sit up and take notice' moment. Your poetry always seem to unveil a subject or a issue in such a unique and profound way that it gives the reader much to contemplate, while still enjoying the beauty of the poem. I have come to love accentual verse, and the loveliness of the wavering sounds.

Some thoughts to leave, I hadn't time to read other's critiques so if I repeat what another says, please forgive me. While time is limited these days, I want to get in what critiques I can while I can.

Biggest and best wishes, Liz ...

Yesterday and Tomorrow

The title sort of left me a bit confused with its intent. Before reading the poem, I was expecting a play on today, and trying to reach back on yesterday while sliding into tomorrow. Then as I began reading through S1,S2, I felt it connected to the idea of memories of when the child was young, and tomorrow they will leave their home to become independent on their own, leaving an empty nest so to speak. However, after reading the final stanza, I am left wondering the importance that the title offers the reader in understanding the full picture of the subject and her childless state. Unfortunately, I have been putting some thought to it and feel the connection just at the tip of my mind, but it isn't a solid thought. Maybe it has no revelation to the final stanza, inwhich I would suggest something else to allow the reader a clue as to the womans plight.

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

There is some very powerful context here... In L1, the repeat of bird weakens the strength of the image and meaning.
Perhaps ... A mother's heart is a prisoner/a frantic bird in a cage of bone.

Or ...

A mother's heart is a prisoned bird,
a white dove caught in a cage of bone.

L3, I do like the personilation of Child, the cap makes me believe that she calls her child Child, as if named as such ... L4 stumbles for me ...
Perhaps ...

aloud, and so closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I felt the memory making moments that this is built upon, the simple moments that make a difference in a childs world and their foundation with a parent. I did feel this could use with some tightening up... In L1, although it might be my own preference, but I kept wanting the more natural sound of leading a child off to bed... while L2, the line length is off set by what has already been established in the first stanza and becomes a jolt to this reader. In L3, I think I get what you intend for hollow, if I am chosing the right definition as: meaningless or having no real or significant worth ? ... The word hollow would better serve an image of the womb, rather than the hand-I can imagine empty handed, but I don't think the lack of something in the hand is what is relevant here, but rather the emptiness of the nest. Some alternatives for a substitution could be: barren, wanting, empty, infertile, fruitless ... all these link to the ending line, as barren.

Suggestive example:

It's time for prayer and so off to bed.
You giggle, I laugh, tousling your hair
as you hurry from my futile hand...
to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

I cannot find crabscuttled anywhere (I googled it and didn't get anything, also checked dictionary.com) So I am unsure what it means. My gut feeling tells me something that is abandoned or damaged, or barren and left unclean. Not sure...

This ending stanza is a very critical turn in the poem. L1/L2 are powerful and real. Allowing L3/L4 to give that finalized punch that leaves the reader aware and yet, surprised, not expecting such a powerful turn about at the end. Some minor thoughts to again tighten it up ...


I open the door, turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...not a mark,
no sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in a womb that's crabscuttled dark.



I hope that I have left something of worth, Jax. This poem is surely a heart wrencher and of course, please use what is useful to you and discard the rest.


Hugs, Liz

[JaxMyth]

I will be back soon, I hope, no major problem just an unreliable radio connection.

Jax

[Guest_Don_*]

Dear JaxMyth,

Like Daniel, I am delighted to read the talent and skill you bring to MM. Though accentual drum beating is among my favorites, my unfamiliarity with false pregnancy makes your composition more profound.

Don

[Guest_Rosemerta_*]

Greetings Jax,

For a moment I confused Jax with Jox since I have been away so long. I'm not sure if I have read you before but I do like what I see. This is indeed a very poignant piece that tears at the heartstrings.

You may find some of my suggestions unwarrented but can blame them on my reading too much metered poetry of late. As always you should take or leave as you will.

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
A mother’s heart is an imprisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
a frantic pigeon in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.
Listen, Child, its wings are beating loudly
Can you feel it keeping pace to your own?
(I also like C on child as some use it as a name, which makes it more personal)

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
The hour has come to pray before bed
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
We giggle and laugh as I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
but you rush away from my hollow hand.
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
…to a naked pillow... with nary a mark,
no sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.
(I also couldn’t find a definition for crabscuttled but it sounds like it should fit. I assume it is a local or cultural term not familiar to most. Whether real or of your invention I really like it.)

I am impressed with the way you have made us stop and think in terms we might normally have done. The imagery in this was very strong.

You rock!

~~Jackie

[JaxMyth]

Hello Jax

This is full of heart wrenching emotion! The imagination of the parent of a none-born child. I think, that a person longing for a child could have these haluccinations. This is very real. You have managed to 'twang' just the right spots, the emotions, the 'living' child and captured the feelings of emptyness eg, hollow hand, and the womb.

I simply cannot find a nit. I think there is no room for improvement! It is simply amazing.

Thank you for sharing this poem.

I will be back to see the other comments.

PP

Thank you PP I have added another stanza i hope that you approve.

Regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating I found the desperation powerful.
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair Maybe the second "I" is unnecessary
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

Hi Jax,

I've been reading about the bad weather you've been experiencing, keep up the faith and I hope things improve for you soon.

RE: Yesterday and Tomorrow
As I have come to expect from you this is another powerful piece of writing. To me, it conveys a sense of desperation that is tinged with almost insane grief. I can be a bit of an escapist from reality, but there is no escaping it when reading your writings. As in this piece, even though it comes across as almost a ghost-story, because there is a ghost of sorts.

I'm afraid I dont fully understand how the title 'Yesterday and Tomorrow' relates. Are you saying the desperate grief is always there and always will be, or....???

I'm going to have to look up 'crabscuttled' to be sure of it definition. Although I'm sure I understand its meaning in the context of this poem, which is back-handed praise of your ability.

Hope some of that is useful.

Terry

Hi Terry,

We are luckier than most, no-one dead or injured and we can carry on with our losses. Some have lost all. Thank you for your kind words.

The yearnings of yesterday and forlorn hopes of tomorrow. There is no living with the reality of the moment.

'Crabscuttled' my neologism crab=cancer

Thank you and regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating Not sure why you have a capital C for Child?
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

Hi Judi,

"Child" personified.

I wonder if down in her womb would sound better?

I am not sure that you mean the child has been lost, I think you mean you never had a child of your own...(I have been know to be wrong, but don't tell anyone...shhhhh.)

These were the only two nits I had...your work is always so well done. Judi

Thank you Judi

This conflates two seperate people who had womb cancer.

Regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

Hello Jax,

I've mentioned before that I'm a complete dunce when it comes to figgering out deeper meanings, and I'll agree with some of the replies already received. "Child", fer instance, why the capital?

Personified.

I think your opening line is magnificent. L2, however, is a judgment call - I personally wouldn't go with another bird so close. Words like "imprisoned" come to mind; and then of course, I'm not really into my eyes of blue settling upon the cage of bone. I know you need "bone" with "own", so I shall not moan.

Goes to the credit of voice Merlin, but I have bowed to my peer pressure and have posted a revised version with an extra stanza.

L4 bothers me in that you made 1 adverb (closely) but not loudly. Consider strong, beside, nearby as possible subs.

My next lines are not meant to offend or compare to anything. They come from personal experience, and I'm wondering if they may be similar to what I'm reading here.
Horses - mares - will go thru what's known as false pregnancy. They display all indications of being in foal, complete with size and mannerisms. When the due date comes, there's no foal, even while the mare was preparing to deliver.

I breed warmbloods what are you in to? Yes the phantom pregnancy it also exists in dogs.

An interesting piece - leaves points to ponder.

Merlin

Thanks and regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

Hi Jax,

This is so terribly sad! It all seemed so real that I was a bit surprised at the end to find that it was her imagination! Well done~ I couldn't even begin to imagine how this must feel but I think you must come quite close. You touched on a very sweet moment with a child... a nightly routine for most parents... and it felt so real as if actually experienced.

A thought or two for you to consider... use or lose~

Cathy


A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone. < I'm not sure about 'bird' twice so close together. Maybe you could use a specific bird... 'a frantic dove in a cage of bone.'? Or maybe you could leave 'bird' out of line 1 like...

'A mother's heart is imprisoned,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.'

Just a thought (and maybe not a good one) but would 'mockingbird' work? As though her body is mocking her greatest desire?

I have made some changes Cathy I hope that they meet your approval.

Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair IMO the second 'I' isn't needed.
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

The second 'I' I fell is necessary.

Why 'hollow'? It sounds as though her hand has no blood or bone, just a shell. Wouldn't 'empty' describe your thoughts here?

'hollow' is taken on poetic licence. It gives a greater feel of futility.

I open the door and turn on the light < 'your' door maybe? It would eliminate one of three the's in two lines. Or 'no head on your pillow'?

...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

This leaves me with an empty feeling, as though a large part of life had been taken away. I looked in 4 dictionaries for 'crabscuttled' and couldn't find anything. Could you enlighten me please? *smiles*

As I have said above 'crabscuttled' sunk by cancer and also the eerie sound of the movement of massed crabs after dark.

Many thanks and regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

Greetings, JM. It's pleasant to see such a gifted writer here, from whom I hope to learn much. Thank you for this excellent, thought-provoking, evocative study.

I'm not so familiar with accentual verse, but I see that this one seems to have four accents per line; am I correct on that score? My reading of this finds the flow a little choppy with the accents coming sometimes at unexpected places. For me it took a few readings to imagine how you might read the lines smoothly... which hearing of course might change my mind totally.

Yes to the four beats Daniel, the flow is not metered as in accentual syllabic so that it will at first seem choppy I liken it as classical music to melody.

I too stumbled over 'prisoned' and 'loud' but I think I see the use of them as you explain; I also find the repetition of 'bird' not particularly helpful ?

I hope that I have addressed some of your concerns above.

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

[ This feels like an actual child in the womb, close to the mother's heart ]

Phantom.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh[,] and I reach for your hair[,]
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

[ This feels like an actual toddler ]

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you[,] Child...for no (-) one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

[ This seems to indicate that all of the above was a dream, or does it indicate a loss before birth ? or are you leaving it up to the reader... but just to feel the pain, whatever the situation may be ? Your 'crabscuttled' is a creative word indeed, but I'm not sure I grasp the picture just yet. ]

deLighting in the prospect of interaction, Daniel

Many thanks Daniel, two women that I have known the suffered from cancer of the womb, one died one survived, neither had children but both wanted them.

Thank you for your kind words, I too, look forard to interaction.

Regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

Hi Jax,

Glad to see you back and that things are in order. The severity of the weather has been a concern and I was wondering if you are directly affected and if you and your family are fine... I am hoping so ...

We have been comparatively lucky, life goes on and at least we have it. i do not complain.

Whenever I see a post of yours I try to prepare myself for a 'sit up and take notice' moment. Your poetry always seem to unveil a subject or a issue in such a unique and profound way that it gives the reader much to contemplate, while still enjoying the beauty of the poem. I have come to love accentual verse, and the loveliness of the wavering sounds.

Some thoughts to leave, I hadn't time to read other's critiques so if I repeat what another says, please forgive me. While time is limited these days, I want to get in what critiques I can while I can.

Biggest and best wishes, Liz ...

Thank you Liz, your wishes are greatly appreciated.

Yesterday and Tomorrow

The title sort of left me a bit confused with its intent. Before reading the poem, I was expecting a play on today, and trying to reach back on yesterday while sliding into tomorrow. Then as I began reading through S1,S2, I felt it connected to the idea of memories of when the child was young, and tomorrow they will leave their home to become independent on their own, leaving an empty nest so to speak. However, after reading the final stanza, I am left wondering the importance that the title offers the reader in understanding the full picture of the subject and her childless state. Unfortunately, I have been putting some thought to it and feel the connection just at the tip of my mind, but it isn't a solid thought. Maybe it has no revelation to the final stanza, inwhich I would suggest something else to allow the reader a clue as to the womans plight.

As I have said above Liz. the yearnings of yesterday and the forlorn hope of tomorrow.

A mother’s heart is a prisoned bird,
a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, its wings are beating
loud and closely to your own.

There is some very powerful context here... In L1, the repeat of bird weakens the strength of the image and meaning.
Perhaps ... A mother's heart is a prisoner/a frantic bird in a cage of bone.

Or ...

A mother's heart is a prisoned bird,
a white dove caught in a cage of bone.

I have made changes that I hope will sit well with you.

L3, I do like the personilation of Child, the cap makes me believe that she calls her child Child, as if named as such ... L4 stumbles for me ...
Perhaps ...

aloud, and so closely to your own.

Changes above.

It's time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I felt the memory making moments that this is built upon, the simple moments that make a difference in a childs world and their foundation with a parent. I did feel this could use with some tightening up... In L1, although it might be my own preference, but I kept wanting the more natural sound of leading a child off to bed... while L2, the line length is off set by what has already been established in the first stanza and becomes a jolt to this reader. In L3, I think I get what you intend for hollow, if I am chosing the right definition as: meaningless or having no real or significant worth ? ... The word hollow would better serve an image of the womb, rather than the hand-I can imagine empty handed, but I don't think the lack of something in the hand is what is relevant here, but rather the emptiness of the nest. Some alternatives for a substitution could be: barren, wanting, empty, infertile, fruitless ... all these link to the ending line, as barren.

The emptiness of self, the lack of substance. That deep feeling of lack of worth of relevance.

Suggestive example:

It's time for prayer and so off to bed.
You giggle, I laugh, tousling your hair
as you hurry from my futile hand...
to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

I cannot find crabscuttled anywhere (I googled it and didn't get anything, also checked dictionary.com) So I am unsure what it means. My gut feeling tells me something that is abandoned or damaged, or barren and left unclean. Not sure...

The sound of crabs scuttling and the fact of being sunk by cancer.

This ending stanza is a very critical turn in the poem. L1/L2 are powerful and real. Allowing L3/L4 to give that finalized punch that leaves the reader aware and yet, surprised, not expecting such a powerful turn about at the end. Some minor thoughts to again tighten it up ...


I open the door, turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...not a mark,
no sign of you Child...for no-one has been
down in a womb that's crabscuttled dark.



I hope that I have left something of worth, Jax. This poem is surely a heart wrencher and of course, please use what is useful to you and discard the rest.


Hugs, Liz

Many thanks Liz,

Regards,

Jax

[JaxMyth]

Dear JaxMyth,

Like Daniel, I am delighted to read the talent and skill you bring to MM. Though accentual drum beating is among my favorites, my unfamiliarity with false pregnancy makes your composition more profound.

Don

Thank you Don,

I feel the phantom pregnancies are more the norm within mammalian lines than the aberration.

Regards,

Jax

[Peterpan]

Hello Jax

To be honest I liked the original poem. The first verse tells us too much and does not show! Just my opinion.

PP