Elegance isn't necessarily about appearances...and who wants to be elegant anyway? Pah!
Regarding the poem, I like the explicit simplicity of this; our narrator expresses herself thoughtfully and with honesty. I also liked how you chose to say the sentiment of the final stanza.
This review isn't much of a present, but Happy Birthday.
I kicked over and broke my favorite full length mirror the other day
and rushed to Family Dollar to purchase a new one, only to be told
that they stopped carrying full length mirrors because they broke
too easily. So I taped the broken pieces together which would be ok
but it now makes my lower half appear as if it belongs on a centaur
that fabled half human, half horse creature that lives in the mountains
of Thessaly.
I shall write a poem about it soon....good work, dana
Emily, you exude elegance in not only your carefully crafted poems, reviews but your soft and tender heart. Elegance grows with age and passing years never diminish the beauty of youth... it helps to make it blossom
Poetess, you are the epitome of elegance. I know what you mean though... But elegance comes in a variety of ways, don't you think? Of course you don't see what you saw then... Your voice lives and changes with the tide, for it must. That girl is there, presiding in the wind....changing as it was meant to. I could read you all night, dear, through stormy nights and sun=kissed moments... And your audience changes with you... as it should be...
Interesting poem. Elegance- an emotion? A living entity? A place? The simplicity of the poem is elegant, and what i find fascinating is the narrator does not tell the reader how she feels about this loss of elegance. Liked the subtle nature of this poem
what would you feel had you no words
there is something within this ordered construction of language
which constricts and molds us
in search of expression...
in search of an answer...
we throw ourselves
into a package
and we are captured
and bonded by words
it is intuition not intelligence which causes the events that "advance" our history
had we worked just to be
had we worked just to live
we might already be free
all that just to say
words are meaningless
unless you know the definition
but everyone understands laughter
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..