Thank you. She believe all of those people were "falsities." More so, she really knew no body to make that pair. But in her resting heart, I am no body too, that makes a pair of us...funny how eternity works, eh?

Hi,

This was enjoyable to read, to reminiscence of love's essence, so I just a few notes...


Shall we sashay beneath the Bradford pears
until the redbuds pop and dogwoods burst?
Or let a shower catch us anawares
and tumble arm-in-arm to passion's thirst?

(I think the rhymes could be stronger, those kind are like the first rhymes that come to mind, seems forced)

Then let us waste a summer day: a lake,
a pontoon boat, and isolated cove.
We'll share our time, confirm it's no mistake
to daily seal our vows and grow our love.

(a lot of this is cliche, I suggest to notice them, ie, "waste a summer day, share our time, seal our vows, grow our love")

We've watched love change; first Wow!, then commonplace,
then struggle just to live, like leaves in fall,
yet always keep its hold, with withering grace,
like pin oak leaves—the stubbornest of all.

(show me the "wow," don't just tell it, which you do some job of, just needs more strength and creativity)

May our devotion thrive, and still expand,
until life's winter issues its command.

(you're not going to like me for saying this, but this is a keeper, needs a lot of work, just watch for misused abstractions and cliches)

Hope I've helped.

Hi,

Here is the pattern for stressed * and unstressed _

I'm not sure where this one falls in meter, but I'll just point it out and I'm not good at it, but I learn as well..

A swarm of nervous hornets
began their mid-afternoon launch
into pungent, feathery juniper’s
billowing, evergreen paunch.

_*_*_*
_**_*_*
_*_*_*_*_
*_ _*_ _ *


Incessant buzzing tarnished
my tranquil nap in the park;
a hollow feeling hung over me
when nuzzled by a stinging spark.

_*_*_*_
_*_*_ _*
_*_*_**_*
_*_ _ _ *_ *


I could be wrong, but I don't see a pattern, but from my POV, I see a pattern in the first lines and some others in other lines.

Ok, the best I can do, let me know, anyone can help me or her, that would be so kind.

well, since this is a poetry forum to introduce my true self, this poem sums it up:

I’M nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us—don’t tell!
They’d banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!



anyone know who wrote this beloved poem?

Hi,

I really like the sentiment and flare for the old, aren't they just better?

I like the analogy of the mattress, but I would dare to say to use a better analogy.

My suggestion would be, like an old Victorian chair when you weep into it, or a love seat from the 60's hehe

well, hope I've helped,

God Bless

Hi,

There's a beyond beautiful atmosphere, which is dreamy and rich. I commend you on that, not many can.

Break from sleep,
first light seeps...
I draw it in.

(I really like it's simplicity, but my suggestion is to dig deeper within, the light is shining, ponder it more, seek it)

Stretch with open arms
on tips of toes,
a sigh ex-hails...

(this is fine, but show me those arms, don't tell me, it is a common flaw to tell and not show, search within, show us the beauty of words, the beauty of those arms)

better than words
of solemn piety
expressing gratitude... with pleasure

(ah, Shakespeare would be proud, but show me about this solemn piety, seek within yourself to describe such that pleasure)

In that light I see now...
trees in silent sway,
opening the window then
senses flare...

(there you go, the showing me the trees, about the window, show me more, open up)

A rustling air invades,
it's summer scented.
My rising joy...
this morning's bliss...

(why does the air invade? most of us know, and I commend you on that mystery, and remember the best usage of abstractions is to make them universal)

This sunlight's kiss, so warm,
that waiting world, I wonder,
as I prepare,
to venture there.

(ah, such a lovely kiss, showing me again, very nice, show us more, reach deep within, finite to fail, but infinite to venture)


I hope I've helped, more encouragement, and I can tell you have a lovely heart, and it endears me so...

Hi,

I really thinks this speaks from your heart, and that's encouraging. My only suggestion is this:

say colors were words, like a painter to a poet. You can see that colors that blend well, words that we paint with, and this is my suggestion:

We base our world view and it reflects in our poetry, such as that painter wants to paint a chair, like say Van Gogh, he is painting it by his vision filtered by reality,

thus when we say something to identify with, we see the night sky blue, thus when Van Gogh painting starry night, it was the night sky through his visions, a blend if you will...

and my point is, is that we use descriptive words to describe our world, we fall into cliches, describing, writing our world like so many others see it, and this is evident in the poem, so I've put in parenthesis when those cliches are.


He washed before he did the (dirty deed,)
His (hands were clean,) his (soul was dark.)
His mind dwelt on the (very act,)
(Full moon waned) in his eyes.
Brightly they did gleam,
For soon upon his charge
Would foulness be played.
Nor would a penny fit
Between thin (lips that slightly curled.)
Each (tainted breath) (another step
Toward) reaping a (fresh soul.)



I really hope I've helped. See, the difference between writing for us poets goes beyond what are world view is, but we are the poets, we are the ones to describe this world in all it's most wonderful ways, basically, that it is not only our duty to be the ones that use words for our readers to imagine such a wonderful world, but also it is the painter that paints, and the poet that writes so much, so many times, that through the journey in our minds, we find the truths, the parts of reality that aren't common, and that is one of our roles in society, it is our creed, our honor, our debt of ourselves to be honored to know such words others could not.


and honestly, I wonder if when I wrote this, all the time and energy we spend really does make a difference.

In impecunious waters
steering in sybarite seas,
those incredulous winds blew fast
upon sailors of heresy!

Never complacent in times rough
as though kismet would have vengeance--
hellacious waves thundering roars,
but this sailor's mind idyllic.

Most of this is cliche and maudlin. May I suggest some advice for better writing? The concepts to which you wrote have been written so much, and it's time for change, time to think outside the box. When we write poems, we find our thoughts and feelings and write them down, but because we all share life and being human, most of it has been written about. The whole point of poetry is to be new and refreshing, otherwise you are just unknowingly copying ideas from another poet.

About the concept of timeless love is untrue. Truth is timeless, but love is conditioned to time, it's a passing emotion, whereas, truth well be around, and when it's found, it will be waiting.

Neo