removed

Hi Cyn,

There is such a mixture of emotions through out this. The music describe is beautifully intwined with the ideal of their love, and of course, the ending was quite powerful to follow up on the depth of that beauty. Only a couple of nits... other than that... Beautiful strong poem.

Best Wishes, Liz

Thanks Liz
This actually supposed to be rythmic, but I wanted it subtley so. I think I can change a some of the things you mention and keep the rythmn.
Cyn

PS I'll be back either later this evening or tomorrow to comment on some poems

Hi Cyn,

I like the correlation between physical longing and the playing of an instrument. It enhances the romantic flair. I wish I could write things like this! Well done~

Cathy (PS... only one nit, addressed below)

I wanted to sing what your fingers had fashioned,
your fingers on fret boards and I with a song.
Youth had its way in a singer who longed for
your fingers to let her, like rosewood makes sound.
But so many years…and so many battles
with such battered wills, with no carried chords. My only nit is with these two lines... they feel like an incomplete sentence. Maybe a punctuation change of some sort?

My voice is pale, reedy, no sweet highs or lows
now, our vows made of silence: no notes, no refrain.
How easy it is to let silence befall you;
it’s hard to recall when we first closed our mouths.

Hey, Cyn...

this has a powerful and all-too-common theme... though certainly not written in a common way!

I like the generally rhthmic flow of this, and and I think I can hear this one being sung... but I can't quite make out the melody. Would you please hum louder?

I'm gathering that the thrice-mentioned 'fingers' is purposed, as I think lyrics more often repeat words than does the standard poem ? I'm not sure why Liz hears the 'now' on the following line, but it does break your rhythm to put it there... so I'm voting for the original in that regard.

Please allow me to play with this just a bit, will you:


'closed our mouths' feels slightly cumbersome to me, but right now I can't think of another way of saying it with something not so heavy.

I'll be back, though... unless you want me to close mine!

deLighting to share, Daniel

some excellent suggestions Daniel which I will implement immediately, I want to keep longed for the rhyme with song, and mouths for the ou sound but there are some other things that are ever so right about your suggestions. Stay tuned

okie-dokie... I'll try to keep the strings taut...

Lightly, Daniel

Quote Daniel:

QUOTE

I'm gathering that the thrice-mentioned 'fingers' is purposed, as I think lyrics more often repeat words than does the standard poem ? I'm not sure why Liz hears the 'now' on the following line, but it does break your rhythm to put it there... so I'm voting for the original in that regard.

Hi Cyn,

To answer Daniel's question, because it didn't sound natural. It actually feels like it breaks the rhythm leaving it there. I hear a full end stop at the word 'lows' but mainly because the line, the meaning of those words hold a lot of power and the reader automatically (this reader anyway) felt a natural pause to stop momentarily and take it in then go on to the next line, but to read the line and continue on with now, just felt awkward. Sort of like a word hanging off a cliff not really having any purpose, untill linked to the next line, and actually, if it had a dual meaning I can then see a strength there, but it doesn't. This isn't to say it is bad, once I left the line, your fullnesss in imagery replaced the doubt on that and didn't cause any disruption in the remaining poem: Please feel free to do what feels right to you. These are my thoughts and please use what works for you.

I truly enjoyed this poem and look forward to any revision you might present us!

Best Wishes, Liz

I can see your point Liz. The reason it was, and has returned to, the line before was to keep the meter set up with the feminine end followed by a masculine end. But since this was posted in non-met/free verse, your suggestion is well taken.

And I too see what Liz means now...

but I see that I'd heard the piece through a similar musical ear to yours, Cyn... so we're at least singing a round together, or perhaps something in harmony... even if the voices crack a bit.

Lightly, Daniel

P.S. There are beaucoup songs in free verse that have steady rhythm, methinks... so I think you've posted this in just the right place.

Hi Cyn,

I'm back again to touch base on your revision. I only noticed one change really, (I am not really looking at punctuation as I stink in it! LOL

As for the beat etc.. I agree with Daniels statement 10 fold that yes... free verse has rhythm and beat and finding the voice and rhythm of a narrator is what makes a free verse poem poetic. (as well as good handle on poetic devices, as you've masterfully shown in your previous works as well) ...

QUOTE

Singer

I wanted to sing what your fingers had fashioned,
deft fingers on fret boards and I with a song.

I love the change to 'deft' not only for the inner rhyme of fret, but it is a fresh, rarely used word and fits the meaning that I interpret here tight as a glove. Good suggestion to Daniel!

Youth had its way in a singer who longed for
those fingers to let her, like rosewood, make sound.
But so many years…and so many battles
with such battered wills… with no carried chords.
My voice is pale, reedy, no sweet highs or lows now,
our vows made of silence: no notes, no refrain.
How easy it is to let silence befall us;
it’s hard to recall when we first closed our mouths.

Best to you Liz ...

(I'll be back -- when my eyes aren't closing on me! Night! )

My humble suggestion follows:
>>original>>
those fingers to let her, like rosewood, make sound.
But so many years…and so many battles
with such battered wills… with no carried chords.
My voice is pale, reedy, no sweet highs or lows now,
>>revised>>
those fingers, like rosewood, let her make sound.
But so many years with such battered wills,
my voice is pale, reedy, no sweet highs or lows,

Don

Hello Cyn,

Been a while. A captivating blend of how relationships move fwd, where youth clings, and time softens the tones away into silence.

My Favorite part of the poem:

Youth had its way in a singer who longed for
those fingers to let her, like rosewood, make sound.

To a musician, the instrument is handled with care and every note and lyric created is precious throughout the phases in reaching perfection.

This is a wonderful metaphor that grabs in its clarity.

Hugs
Dani