Based on the prior comments it appears I am about 5 or 6 years late on this but you know what they say, better late than never and that saying really holds weight here because this poem, this beautiful expression of love and desire, is something that had I never read, I would have missed out on something amazing. I could list some favorite stanzas but, I would be hard pressed to pick one over another. This was gorgeous, from the storyline to the meter and cadence of the lines. This was song-like smooth and gentle on the heart and the mind. Beautifully done.
Posted 2 Years Ago
2 Years Ago
Thank you for reading and for the very kind review. I am humbled.
Dear Linda Marie,
Word choices, syntax, rhyme, rhythm and pristinely even ten-counts, the haunting music, metaphoric imagery, emotional timbre … literally every aspect of these enchant the knowing, feeling, caring, time-tempered bard inside me.
I cannot recount the times I've come to read this piece, M'Lady, as so many other poems of yours I've read and might never review (but well might), but this time is different, somehow … something deeper, more urgently longing set upon me, into my senses, in such a way I was compelled to speak.
All of your poems, in one way of another, make me want to, but I'm often cautious my words may speak too boldly from the emotional inspiration your voice ever-so tenderly and fully sings to my depths … I hope you understand.
You ever read something that touches so completely it envelopes you, enters-in and embraces the softer, more gentle parts of your very soul, even brims your heart and eyes to overflowing, makes you want to coddle they whom felt, composed, and shared it from their core(?) … this does that to me.
I even imagined the pictures are of you, believing, even if they aren't, they could be … ah, how vividly imagination perceives, eh?
Lest I overstay my welcome … warmest hugs and most grateful thanks, Linda Marie, may the cold snow fall soft and warm into your heart! ⁓ Richard
Posted 7 Years Ago
7 Years Ago
Thank you, Richard. I don't like to think that I'm someone who lives in the past. Rather, the past.. read moreThank you, Richard. I don't like to think that I'm someone who lives in the past. Rather, the past lives in me. The loss of my father will ever be a part of me and has inspired me often to write. This is one of those poems. Thank you for reading.
7 Years Ago
Linda,
It is said we can never truly find ourselves until our mothers and fathers are gone; y.. read moreLinda,
It is said we can never truly find ourselves until our mothers and fathers are gone; yet, even so, are we not ever a part of them, they of us, wherever our spirits may dwell?
Bless you, Linda Marie, and bless your beautiful father, who sired such effulgent wonderment into our lives … hugs to you.
Such beauty has come from apathy! This poem has affected me greatly. I'll have to read this again, and again.
I agree with both Lydia and Jacob.
Thank you kindly for this work.
Sincerely,
D
You've transformed cold, yearning, and death into beautiful art. You've done to anguish what snow does to dormant country, covering all in pristine white. I might sink into tears, but it's magical!
Posted 8 Years Ago
8 Years Ago
Thank you, Roland. It's so nice to see and hear from you. :-) Thank you for your review.
Dramatic...an elegy with superb reflection! The rhyming and rhythm is flawless. The longing is so intense in this write...incredible. One of the best ever from you, Linda. Lydi**
Intoxicating in a way. Hmm. I enjoyed the meter and rhyme scheme. Every line flowed to the next without a hitch and visually each stanza was a petal on the flower which is this work. R&M is not easy. But going back to the feeling of intoxication; the subject matter was rather a soft punch to the heart. A favorite dry liquor that can't be resisted, yet has the ability to bring out too much emotion. I don't know why I feel that way. Probably due to the fact that the feeling of longing for someone or something is universal. It is a feeling that anyone can drown in. Enya didn't help either. Great work! CD
This is a perfect opus of longing in the deep freeze of loss. The snow, so beautiful and so desolate seems to inspire us to reach into frostbitten memories and sweep them epically across the page with words so filled with haunted emotion. We cannot bury things in this frozen ground. I absolutely loved the imagery here:
I don’t know why I keep coming back here
dragging my dress like a whisper to earth
hoping that somehow, someway you will hear
and validate that I’m more than I’m worth.
You write so beautifully even in this barren wasteland.
Posted 8 Years Ago
8 Years Ago
Wow! I haven't seen nor heard from you in forever. Thank you for taking the time to read and for t.. read moreWow! I haven't seen nor heard from you in forever. Thank you for taking the time to read and for taking even more time to leave such a beautiful review. Your last statement is muse-worthy magic. :-)
It a season of snowfall, and I look out upon the silky glow or moonlit snow reflecting upon the affect of your poetry... And I shiver with a grateful appreciation for your artistry here.
You convey the pain of revisiting sorrows. It reads like a haunting. I feel a living death...
Yet, somehow, I sense hope. Well, you pen this flickering flame, a question upon the lip of doubt. Yes, their is still a purpose, a worth, valued beyond feeling or understanding.
' I have drowned in pools of heartache and shame, -- the faint full falling between here and there, -- a symbol of nothing and naught but name -- to keep me company when all is bare.'
Linda Marie, this is a stunningly beautiful yet tragic poem, each stanza brings an added dimension, each line weeps another tear. Can't say more..
Posted 8 Years Ago
8 Years Ago
Thank you, Emma. The snowfall and the quiet has a way of inducing the sadness. It made me return t.. read moreThank you, Emma. The snowfall and the quiet has a way of inducing the sadness. It made me return to the well. Nice to see you again.
Poetry has been my passion since I was about fifteen years old, and I love the structure of rhyme and meter moreso than just randomly throwing words upon a page without any form whatsoever.
Whi.. more..