Gift Wrapped (2nd revision) Options

[Eisa]

Second Revision 24/05/07
Trying to show not tell.


Gift Wrapped REVISION

I joyfully begin unwrapping
but umpteen layers later,
I’m jaded and excitement
begins to fade.

Inside is a puzzle;
my autistic child is locked
in stagnant words,
yet sounds ripple and
perception swells to river banks.

His challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches
until we collapse, exhausted.

Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling my face.

Still peeling off remaining wrappings
I struggle to fit all the pieces,
but beneath his foibles
I’ve found a core that
laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like anyone else.

My special gift has taken
years to fathom,
stretching all resources.
Yet, if he were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son,
that’s wrapped with love
inside my heart today.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gift Wrapped (revised --06/04/07)


Excitement surges;
I carefully begin unwrapping,
but my brow furrows
at the umpteen layers
taking years to remove.

Inside lies a puzzle --
he's locked inside stagnant words,
yet sounds ripple;
perception swells to river banks

This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches,
until we collapse, exhausted.

Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling up my face.

Still peeling off autism’s wrappings,
I struggle to fit all the pieces,
but find a core beneath the foibles
that laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like any individual.

If this gift were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son, who is
wrapped in my passion today.


****************************
Gift Wrapped

Excitement surges;
I carefully begin unwrapping,
but my brow furrows
at the umpteen covers --
taking years to remove.

Inside lies a puzzle --
rippling sounds with stagnant words,
while perception streams to the banks.

This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches,
until we collapse, exhausted.

Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling up my face.

Still peeling off autism’s layers
I struggle to fit all the pieces,
but find a core beneath the foibles
that laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like any individual.

If this gift were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son, who is
wrapped in my passion today.

[Ephiny]

Hello Eisa,

I remember this poem from when you posted it once before...but I absolutely love it..it's wonderful..the image of unwrapping and deciphering. I work with adults who have autism and I can relate to this so much because I sometimes feel the same..that by taking that time to watch and learn and decipher..there is a person communicating all of their feelings and emotions, their "core"..just in a different way. And though it is never easy, it can be so fulfilling when you realise that you have found that way of understanding and responding. There is so much love, empathy and understanding in your words. I love these lines

This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches,
until we collapse, exhausted.

Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling up my face.


I love how you finish the poem as well..so much reading and information about autism can be so negative (in this country anyway)..this poem focuses instead on the person..your son

Loved this..and hope you and your son are doing well:)

Lucie

[Eisa]

Hi Lucie

Thanks for your kind comments. I'm sure you understand very well the words I have written.

My son is 30 yrs now (I wrote the original to this poem when he was much younger) and we don't get many storms thhese days -- only mild ones.

You are doing a wonderful job, where would we be without you. Thanks!

Snow

[Psyche]

Dear Eisa,
I was quite off-track until I ran into the word "autism" in your poem, and then realized you were writing about your own son. You've made a really splendid contribution to poetry, with this insightful work on a personal, difficult subject. I read your reply to Lucie, that your son is now 30...
I don't really have adequate words to talk about all this, I'll just read your poem again, to get a thorough understanding of the points you've got across so deftly.

A revision of one I wrote a few years ago.


Gift Wrapped Exceptional title.


Excitement surges;
I carefully begin unwrapping,
but my brow furrows
at the umpteen covers --
taking years to remove. What dedication, Snow. Very good opening stanza.

Inside lies a puzzle --
rippling sounds with stagnant words,
while perception streams to the banks. Yes, a puzzle. I can relate from a different standpoint, since my husband has senile dementia, and his words, or silences, are also a puzzle to decipher. But of course I'm going "off-topic", because autism often implies supreme intelligence.

This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches,
until we collapse, exhausted. What an impressive comparison!

Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling up my face. This makes me smile, tenderly. So poignant...

Still peeling off autism’s layers
I struggle to fit all the pieces,
but find a core beneath the foibles
that laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like any individual. Exactly so. Deftly poetized, Snow.

If this gift were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son, who is
wrapped in my passion today. Yes, just so. Your enormous love for your son is beautifully expressed. Thanks so much for sharing this insightful poem, Snow.

Dear me, I was so taken with the content, that I didn't notice anything to crit! I guess there's nothing to change...
Hugs, Syl ***

[Peterpan]

Hello!

You move me, I am feeling so emotional by your words. I used to work with retarded children when I was at school and eventually I got too emotionally involved with them and had to ask for the clerical job. You are a very special person to have an autistic child and I admire your strength and determination to make a difference to him and with him. You have had a lot to deal with, and we with our 'normal' children sometimes complain!

Thank you for sharing this poem, it is a lesson in life.

With admiration.

PP

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Wow.

I didn't get it till S5.

Wow.

I'll come back

[bbnixon]

Eisa,

This is a beautiful poem filled with love for your son. It celebtates his uniqueness. It reminds me of my sister and my neice Heather. Heather has a rare genetic disorder, and she will always be 6. She will be 18 on her birthday on the 9th of this month. She is one of my heros, her spirit is filled with a love of life, a joy of the simple, she introduces herself to everyone, if she hears music she dances, if she loves you, she tells you. She is very cool beans....I spent New Years with her this year, we dressed up and went to a ball, she was my date, we danced and danced... Your poem brought her to me today, and for that I say thank you.

I love your poem, and the love for your son shines through. I have made a few suggestions below each strophe.


A revision of one I wrote a few years ago.


Gift Wrapped

Excitement surges;
I carefully begin unwrapping,
but my brow furrows
at the umpteen covers -- maybe layers-covers reminds me of a bed/bedspreadtaking years to remove.

Inside lies a puzzle --
rippling sounds with stagnant words,
while perception streams to the banks.

I think here, it would nice to give the reader a small clue, it is not until S5, that we become aware of the subject and his relationship with the narrator...

Together we must sovle your puzzle
locked inside, rippling sounds
with stagnant words. Perception
streams to distant river banks.


This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches,
until we collapse, exhausted. I love this comparison


Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling up my face. this one is very cool beans and makes me smile


Still peeling off autism’s layers
I struggle to fit all the pieces,
but find a core beneath the foibles
that laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like any individual. -I stumble over individual..I want to say- much like everyone else

If this gift were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son, who is
wrapped in my passion today.

I like the ending, the love.acceptance/celebration of who your son is.

I enjoyed this poem very much. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem.

Hope your day is very good

:) brenda

[Eisa]

Hi Syl

I'm pleased you appreciate this one. I'm sorry to hear about your husband too. My mother had Alzheimer's and there was a similarity between that and autism. There were so many problems we had faced with my son, that we faced again with my mother. The difference being that my son could improve, but sadly, my mother would only deteriorate. Life is sad!

Hugs Snow

[Eisa]

Hello!

You move me, I am feeling so emotional by your words. I used to work with retarded children when I was at school and eventually I got too emotionally involved with them and had to ask for the clerical job. You are a very special person to have an autistic child and I admire your strength and determination to make a difference to him and with him. You have had a lot to deal with, and we with our 'normal' children sometimes complain!

Thank you for sharing this poem, it is a lesson in life.

With admiration.

PP

Thank you Bev, for your kind words and understanding.

Snow

[Eisa]

Wow.

I didn't get it till S5.

Wow.

I'll come back

Thanks Kathy -- I look forward to your return

Snow

[Eisa]

Hi Brenda

Eisa,

This is a beautiful poem filled with love for your son. It celebtates his uniqueness. It reminds me of my sister and my neice Heather. Heather has a rare genetic disorder, and she will always be 6. She will be 18 on her birthday on the 9th of this month. She is one of my heros, her spirit is filled with a love of life, a joy of the simple, she introduces herself to everyone, if she hears music she dances, if she loves you, she tells you. She is very cool beans....I spent New Years with her this year, we dressed up and went to a ball, she was my date, we danced and danced... Your poem brought her to me today, and for that I say thank you.

Your neice sounds lovely!

I love your poem, and the love for your son shines through. I have made a few suggestions below each strophe.


A revision of one I wrote a few years ago.


Gift Wrapped

Excitement surges;
I carefully begin unwrapping,
but my brow furrows
at the umpteen covers -- maybe layers-covers reminds me of a bed/bedspreadtaking years to remove.

Yes -- I have been wondering about that. I think I chose covers because I also have layers in ST5. I think perhaps it would be better to have layers here at the beginning and rethink St5. Thanks!

Inside lies a puzzle --
rippling sounds with stagnant words,
while perception streams to the banks.

I think here, it would nice to give the reader a small clue, it is not until S5, that we become aware of the subject and his relationship with the narrator...

Mm.. I hadn't realised that I had perhaps left it late to let on it is my son. I do like your suggestion as it is subtle, not giving it all away

Together we must sovle your puzzle
locked inside, rippling sounds
with stagnant words. Perception
streams to distant river banks.


This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches,
until we collapse, exhausted. I love this comparison


Yet, hidden between the tiers,
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling up my face. this one is very cool beans and makes me smile


Still peeling off autism’s layers
I struggle to fit all the pieces,
but find a core beneath the foibles
that laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like any individual. -I stumble over individual..I want to say- much like everyone else

Ha ha! I originally had' like everyone else' -- it does roll off the tongue more naturally. I'll go back to it!

If this gift were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son, who is
wrapped in my passion today.

I like the ending, the love.acceptance/celebration of who your son is.

I enjoyed this poem very much. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem.

Hope your day is very good

:) brenda

I am glad you enjoyed this Brenda -- and your suggestions are very good.

Thanks Snow

[Eisa]

Thanks for your suggestions Brenda, they have helped me with revision.

Snow

[Eisa]

Tweaked! Snow

[Cleo_Serapis]

Oh Snow.

What a lovely, poignant poem! I think your title selection is excellent and I only have a few minor suggestions below (mostly punctuation).

I'm glad I stopped by and read this one - this is a keeper, filled with much love and admiration!

HUGS
~Cleo

[add] {delete}

Excitement surges;
I carefully begin unwrapping{,}
but my brow furrows
at the umpteen layers
taking years to remove.

{Inside} [Here] lies {a} [this] puzzle --
he's locked inside stagnant words,
yet sounds ripple;
perception swells to river banks[.]

This challenge has brought storms;
wild winds rip off branches{,}
until we collapse, exhausted.

Yet, hidden between the tiers{,}
is an impish wit
that tickles me inside,
crinkling {up} my face.

Still peeling off autism’s wrappings,
I struggle to fit all the pieces{,}
but find a core beneath the foibles
that laughs when the dog howls,
cries if pain swells,
much like any individual.

If this gift were created
from a perfect mould,
it would not be my son, {who is}
wrapped in my passion today.

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Snow, your poem affects me strongly too. It is hard to crit it.

For me, I wish your son's autism was mentioned earlier, because I didn't flavour it right. I tossed about trying alternate possibilities, getting frustrated instead of flowing with the true meaning of the poem. Even when I know what it its about, on subsequent readings, I still want that disclosure to be part of the very beginning.

The title is perfect.

I am sure your poem will help others who are also trying to free the person locked inside autism.

You begin to use metaphor, and in a way I find this more emotional, more um...able to touch on that silent depth that is more powerful than words. The trouble with narrating, no matter how sensitively done nor how emotional, is that one can get into (that old chestnut of ) show not tell.

I am running out of words. Will be back.

.

[Eisa]

Thanks Lori

I am thinking of tweaking this a bit more, so your suggestions are much appreciated.

Snow

[Eisa]

Snow, your poem affects me strongly too. It is hard to crit it.

For me, I wish your son's autism was mentioned earlier, because I didn't flavour it right. I tossed about trying alternate possibilities, getting frustrated instead of flowing with the true meaning of the poem. Even when I know what it its about, on subsequent readings, I still want that disclosure to be part of the very beginning.

The title is perfect.

I am sure your poem will help others who are also trying to free the person locked inside autism.

You begin to use metaphor, and in a way I find this more emotional, more um...able to touch on that silent depth that is more powerful than words. The trouble with narrating, no matter how sensitively done nor how emotional, is that one can get into (that old chestnut of ) show not tell.

I am running out of words. Will be back.

.

Hi Kathy

Don't worry about what you say, because this is a personal poem. I never post anything I feel I can't accept what people might say.

I do accept what you are saying about bringing in my son's autism sooner and am doing that in my next revision.

Yes ... that old chestnut of show not tell. I find that difficult at times and have been working on another revision where I hope to show a bit more. Thanks for the nudge in the right direction.

Much appreciated

Snow

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Snow,

[Eisa]

Hi -- I've tried to show more than tell, but am not sure whether I've done it!

Snow