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> Wordsworth's "I Wandered..." Restated Challenge, Line ending words must be repeated
jgdittier
post Aug 6 08, 11:32
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Behold the sky without a CLOUD,
Let clement air caress the HILLS,
As then was I who eyed a CROWD,
A dale of dainty DAFFODILS:
Before the beach, beyond the TREES,
Beckoning to me with the BREEZE

An auric acre of awesome SHINE
In matrix like the milky WAY,
A burst of beauty, none in LINE
With sea of sun along the BAY:
No way could I but give a GLANCE,
Winking and wagging in dainty DANCE.

How like the waves, these posies, THEY
will bow and bid in sharing GLEE:
What words would fail to gush with GAY
In green and yellow COMPANY:
I stood amazed, without a THOUGHT
And then thanked God for what He BROUGHT.

And now, as I'm abed and LIE
With peace and piety, my MOOD'
I see them with my mindful EYE
who join me in my SOLITUDE;
Then once again my mem'ry FILLS
and I'm amongst those DAFFODILS.

(to read Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud", righr here it Mosaic Musings, go to
Legendary Libations, William Wordsworth, posted by Cleo.


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Cleo_Serapis
post Aug 7 08, 05:42
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How lovely Ron - so many treasures in this response poem! writersblock.gif

Thanks so much for posting it - I'll be along hopefully this weekend with a response as well. Great poem you've chosen and a fabulous response! pharoah2.gif

Love this:

I stood amazed, without a THOUGHT
And then thanked God for what He BROUGHT.

and this:
I see them with my mindful EYE
who join me in my SOLITUDE;
Then once again my mem'ry FILLS
and I'm amongst those DAFFODILS.

Awesome!
~Cleo cloud9.gif


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Psyche
post Aug 7 08, 11:02
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Fantastic, Ron! Love this...You're a master at restatements of yore.

I MAY try my hand at it, not promising. I think you should post the Original above, would make it easier for us lazy ones who work Online, or just to compare. TorT!!! It's your challenge!

Cheers,
Syl***


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The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.


"There is no life higher than the grasstops
Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind
Pours by like destiny, bending
Everything in one direction."

Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights.



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Larry
post Mar 30 10, 14:55
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A new answer for Wordsworth's "I Wandered..." poem for an old (August '08) challenge!


Butterflies

A family, like saffron cloud
adrift above green rolling hills,
descended as a hungry crowd
upon a field of daffodils.
They grew among the budding trees
that swayed in time with springtime’s breeze.

Bright wings reflected warm sunshine
attending them upon their way
back home. Although a ragged line
extended far along the bay,
one could discern with just a glance
that all were part of that spring dance

of coming home. I watched as they
all shared a festive meal with glee:
which turned once saddened mind to gay.
I, gladdened by their company,
and for the sudden change of thought
thanked nature for the smiles she brought.

Were I to speak of this, I’d lie
about that day; my new-found mood.
Spring brought a gift to heart and eye;
for I, in tranquil solitude
perceived a sight soul’s thirst fulfills…
gold butterflies in daffodils.

Larry D. Jennings


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When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy



Kindness is a seed sown by the gentlest hand, growing care's flowers.
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Cleo_Serapis
post Apr 27 10, 05:29
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Larry! I'm just reading this one now. lovie.gif

What a LOVELY response! I'm glad you did too, as I want to now as well. It won't likely be as beautiful as your imagery which I enjoyed very much to start my day!

Enjoyed the read! Read.gif
~Cleo cloud9.gif


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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Collaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind.

"I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. Kanter

Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!

"Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.

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Larry
post Dec 31 13, 16:17
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Springtime

I knew the snow was coming from the cloud
which hung above the brown and barren hills
where in the spring and summer there’s a crowd
of children playing in the daffodils.
Now nothing’s left but small denuded trees
that bend and sway in winters warning breeze

which piles that dark’ning veil and blocks sunshine.
With lengthened steps I hurried on my way
to where the yellow taxis stood in line
for tourists who vacationed at the bay.
The shore was empty and my passing glance
revealed the froth as waves began their dance;

demolishing small castles built where they
could only reach by tide or wind. The glee
and laughter gone, as well as all the gay
bright colored umbrella company
erected for that sunny day. No thought
was given to this time of year that brought

the promise of springtime. A passing lie
which winter told when she was in the mood.
December days with Sol’s unblinking eye
are when I seek my hearth and solitude
till seasons change and only one fulfills
my need for sun and warmth and daffodils.


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When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy



Kindness is a seed sown by the gentlest hand, growing care's flowers.
Larry D. Jennings

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Alan
post Feb 27 14, 05:19
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Dear Friends,

I only discovered this challenge this morning, thought I'd have a go.

Edit : Oops I see I'm in the wrong thread. Lori, can you please move it for me ?

Thanks

Alan
_________________________________________________
SWEET REVENGE

There once were times when I would take a SHINE
to a fair maiden met along the WAY,
not knowing that she’d hooked me on her LINE,
played me like a fisherman by the BAY.
Oh how I wish I’d payed more than a glance,
and thus avoided this most gruesome DANCE.

And how the gurning crowd would laugh, as THEY
could scarce contain their overwhelming GLEE,
at seeing one so serious be GAY,
although he did not fit this COMPANY.
In his blindness he could not spare a THOUGHT
and see low state to which he had been BROUGHT

I tell you now, it is no word of LIE,
that I was felled, and in such damn foul MOOD
to pluck from each of them just one good EYE,
that t’other know its lonely SOLITUDE.
Me this mercy with pleasure truly fills
that they can still cavort ’mongst DAFFODILS !

Alan McAlpine Douglas


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JustDaniel
post Mar 11 14, 12:27
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Thanks for reviving this, Alan. I'll look further at your post in the Crits!!

Here's my attempt:

Today it's Rainier

I wonder at the lonely cloud
that's floating east toward the hills.
Just yesterday there was a crowd
of them that wet the daffodils
and filled the lakes and slaked the trees.
Today there's but a warming breeze.

It's joy to see Mt Rainier shine
where billows have since gone away.
The foothills form a wondrous line
that yesterday kept clouds at bay.
Today snow peaks can't miss your glance,
and circling hawks all seem to dance.

Red robins find their prey, and they
are feeding all their kin with glee.
Seems all the animals are gay
and keep each other company.
Such pleasure in this day, I thought.
Could anything more peace have brought?

I've nothing more to do than lie
on dewy grass and share the mood.
The cloud will morph before my eyes
as I lounge here in solitude.
Puyallup Valley always fills
my heart... and fields with daffodils.

© MLee Dickens'son 2014

reflecting back on my roots in Tacoma, WA



Source of the challenge: Use the last words of each line of Wordsworth's poem:

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.


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Alan
post Mar 11 14, 14:31
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Dear Daniel,

Excellent response. Only I posted it in wrong thread I think.

Love
Alan


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JustDaniel
post Mar 11 14, 17:56
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Ah, Alan....

I see you ARE in the right thread...

BUT you somehow omitted the first six lines of Wordsworth's poem ?

Did you merely forget to copy and paste it?

Thank you for visiting my post too. I'm posting it for crit as well; I'd lost internet connection a bit earlier today.

sLightly confused, Daniel sun.gif


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Larry
post Mar 11 14, 23:29
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Hi Daniel and Alan,

Glad you both came back to this forum. I've enjoyed both of your recent posts.

Here is one more from my neck of the woods.

I Wondered In…

The room was filled with noxious cloud
like fog which hugs the small foothills
and through the haze I saw a crowd
dressed up like paisley daffodils.
Those standing were like wizened trees
contorted by strong ocean’s breeze;

their eyes were glazed, there was no shine.
Those seated seemed to nod away
and then their bodies would incline
like buoys adrift on placid bay.
I didn’t stare but just a glance
revealed a soft slow-motion dance

between two would-be lovers. They
now moved as one and laughed with glee
at some shared private joke. So gay
within that stolid company;
they touched and kissed without a thought.
This panoramic scene now brought

back reminiscent youth. I’d lie
if I revealed that self-same mood
had not played out in memory’s eye.
I now prefer my solitude
on scented path through woods that fills
my mind; not ersatz daffodils.


Larry


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When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy



Kindness is a seed sown by the gentlest hand, growing care's flowers.
Larry D. Jennings

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Cleo_Serapis
post Mar 12 14, 07:36
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Oh wonderful to see this thread revived! pharoah2.gif

What lovely responses Larry, Alan and Daniel! dance.gif dance.gif dance.gif

I'll be back a bit later with comments. BIG presentation today so need to get ready and fit in with the other 3 meetings today - yuck! LightSaber.gif writersblock.gif

Enjoyed!
~Cleo galadriel.gif


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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Collaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind.

"I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. Kanter

Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!

"Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.

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JustDaniel
post Mar 13 14, 21:27
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Larry,

I'm intrigued by your piece, which appears to be a kind of dreamscape taking you back into something like wishful thinking into your past, or some other foggy image ?

Lori,

thank you for your visit to the tread too. I'll look forward to your further comments.

deLighting in everyone's sharing, Daniel sun.gif


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Larry
post Mar 13 14, 23:27
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Hi Daniel,

Thanks for the comments and the read.

It's not wishful thinking but only a brief trip back to my "hippy" flower child days in California in the early 70's. It was definitely foggy
but it had nothing to do with the weather. There were a few times when you came into a room and couldn't see your hand in front of
your face and when you could make it out after a while, you saw too many fingers.

The idea for this little jaunt came from the title because after Viet Nam, that is what I did - "wandered" physically and mentally trying
to figure things out after getting out of the service. Hope it was "eye-opening" for you too.

Larry


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When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy



Kindness is a seed sown by the gentlest hand, growing care's flowers.
Larry D. Jennings

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JustDaniel
post Mar 14 14, 04:53
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Ah, the fog is much clearer now, Larry! Though I've ministered to scores of persons having been permanently affected by the phenomenon, I didn't pick up immediately on your allusion. Had I indulged myself I'm sure I'd have immediately grasped your words!

Always delighting in your wondering, Daniel sun.gif


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Larry
post May 9 14, 10:53
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Flower Children?

They sit with heads tucked in a cloud
in buildings perched upon the hills
of Washington. That clueless crowd
acts like they still wear daffodils
in flowing hair and Cherry trees
are not what’s wafting in the breeze.

Collectively, they never shine
but seemingly get in the way
of progress. Changing every line
with votes of nay; they howl and bay
at everything but never glance
at those who brought them to the dance.

Constituents? Just who are they
to tell us that our endless glee
is not appropriate
. They’re gay,
when parties by a company
raise campaign funds. No passing thought
is given to the promise brought

into the light; ‘twas just a lie.
The voters now have changed their mood
and want to punch them in the eye
or lock them up in solitude.
We’re sick of them. We’ve had our fills
of those who work like daffodils.


·······IPB·······

When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy



Kindness is a seed sown by the gentlest hand, growing care's flowers.
Larry D. Jennings

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Larry
post Jul 3 15, 20:01
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Wildfire

The sky was filled; a grey and dirty cloud
hung low above the blackened rolling hills
where pine and aspen grew. What was a crowd
surrounded by admiring daffodils
is now a cemetery. Fallen trees
are what is left from fire’s voracious breeze.

Some few contain small embers which still shine
with greedy tongues; lick residue away.
The devastation seemed to form a line
to where the hillsides swept into the bay
now choked with ash. There was no parting glance
at what was left from that inferno’s dance.

Black footprints marked flames’ torrid steps where they
had leapt through emerald spires with mindless glee
in pirouettes. What once was green and gay
had now become an ebon company.
A lightning storm with bolts quick as a thought
came through the virgin forest and had brought

sure death. The charred remains of creatures lie
in unmarked graves as though a conqueror’s mood
negated all remorse. With blinded eye,
the victor’s legacy was solitude
and trailing in his wake the hot air fills
with tiny remnants of burnt daffodils.


·······IPB·······

When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy



Kindness is a seed sown by the gentlest hand, growing care's flowers.
Larry D. Jennings

MM Award Winner
 
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