Into Winterberry Ash

An aging man remembers his passing life of love and children

Caught upon an evening reminiscing 
Pass the arms on edge
Of rocking chair and ails reeling

 

Sipping away into fable times
Wild off, cool life teas
Melting ice, and lemon's sweet veranda breeze

 

By and by bloomers chase
Round a circle in innocent days
To the last of Indian summer

 

And brittle beneath awakes
Crying boards that ever creak
As all familiar remembers

 

A voice of hers bone deep, is missed
Rattles toward the center
And out pass the winds of placid lake September

 

“Oh, dear Evelyn” our dreams
Hung under wind chime tingles
Trace love among soft autumns twinkle

 

No longer songbird melodies braid
In early morning after children
Now shadow, in the splashes of sunning place

 

Timepiece also, is the empty grass
Once with, now without you
As a road that ends nearer to your path

 

And sooner wisdom folds
Under snow, bird angels holding hands
High into winterberry ash

Reviews

[Dr. YumnaKay]

"No longer songbird melodies braid
In early morning after children
Now shadow, in the splashes of sunning place"

I liked this stanza the best. I loved the way how you told a story within a poem. Remembrance of gone days brings us joy as well as sorrow.
This would read wonderful with a melody to it.
Excellently penned 😊👍

[Michael G. Smith]

Thank you again. I tried to capture the memories of my grandmother as she reminiscences of missing grandpa and their life when my aunts and uncles were younger.

[Dr. YumnaKay]

You're welcome! 😊

[MsJewel]

There is a soft serenity to this poem that is inviting. The images you have given the reader to enjoy are lovely...
and sooner wisdom folds
under snow, bird angels holding hands
high into winterberry ash
my favorite lines and the perfect ending to a gorgeous poem.
:) Julie

[Michael G. Smith]

Julie Jewel, I have a sister named Julie. I'll be bye soon to read your page. Thanks again.

[Moniba]

Do I have to tell you, you're a grreat poet! But your poetry tends to be a bit hard at times ;)
Loved this stanza:
Timepiece too, is the empty grass
Once with, now without you
As I end a road that leads nearer to your path

[Michael G. Smith]

Tell where you think it is hard so that I might rereflect on those areas. When I write have a svision in my mind and always wonder if the reader is picking upon on it. So, again please don't be shy in reviews I am no one to take offense but revel in others true insights especially to my works.

[Moniba]

Well i'm no expert in english, it is not my native language, so it might just be me. In this poem, I find the first, last, and 3rd last stanza difficult.

[Michael G. Smith]

The title refers to the term Blackberry winter meaning a cold snap occuring in late spring. I just coined it into a short term of one word Winterberry and refering to its the fleeting demise metaphoric to my characters thoughts late in life that lead up to his death in joining his loved ones. First stanza Reeling means he was struck suddenly with intense overwhelming thoughts about his long gone loved ones. Seventh stanza The character is looking out across the lawn where he compares innocence in younger years where he and his wife watched the birds play and also their children in youth and now all he sees is shadows in their place. Last stanza and sooner wither folds comparing the dying flowers or foliage to aging years. Here the character is picturing himself and wife as snow angels holding hands and lifting from the snow as birds would fly. Then again winterberry (Blackberry winter) they metaphoric with a late winter leave quicky as it returns to spring. Thanks for indulging me in questions about my writing. I came from another site where everybody was always heaping praises as comments but no one ever shared constructive critisism. I see that here to but to a lesser extent. How can we a spoets expect to improve or progres if know one show us alrenative ways of approaching our subjects? Do people really care about us as writers if they are frightened by offering true technicalities in writing. I can get praises anywhere I want people to say "Hey, I think you can improve this poem if you rewrite this line to say this... or that". What say you? Maybe I'm too much of a perfectionist? I'd really like to know what you think.
-Mike

[Michael G. Smith]

Wow, did I just write all that? :)

[Moniba]

Thank you so much. For explaining all of it. Must've taken alot of time and I appreciate that. Hahah.. You really did write all that:)
I came here from another such site too. And I want the same thing you do. Constructive criticism, not just praise. Because we want to improve... Our demands are just.