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3 posts in this topic

Another Spring is on you! My heart cries.

High in the trees the first woodpecker drives

And clacks of jousting stags fill out the morn;

Whilst passive does suspect my single form.

I stand stock-still-- and watch them, silently;

For there is no where else I have to be.

And wonder, can they sense my loneliness,

As through the gentle clouds I see your face.

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Just as I resolve to spend more time here in the forums, a submission like this serves to reinforce that which I already know. Namely, that PMO's membership submits compositions of the highest caliber.

This one is tight. The impeccable meter and near-rhymes in the couplets present with such subtlety that after reading the poem I actually had to take a look back at why the poem was so fluid. I read somewhere how the language in a poem by one of my favorite poets is "slightly removed form everyday usage." I would characterize the language in lines 3 & 4 as "ever so slightly removed from everyday usage," nuanced by the plain expression of lines 5 & 6 with their unexpected, yet natural silently/to be line endings.

I had to look up Pareidolia. When I think back to Dave Parsley's recent mention of a footprint on the moon -- an actual footprint, that is -- the image of the face on Mars and the face in the clouds from your poem become even more pronounced thereby making it harder, even less desirable to separate the logical from the abstract. Detecting a bit of kismet in this bigger picture, the concept for me becomes like the "echo chamber": I want it to be a face in the clouds so it must be, it will be, it is.

This is the type of work I aspire to. Thank you for sharing it.


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Thank you Tony-- your presence and input here is much appreciated.

I find it poetically fascinating how the senses work in conjunction with the imagination. Most will have never heard of the word – but all will be familiar with imagery in the embers of a fire: cloud formations, and more famously, faces on the Moon and Mars, or even religious depictions in day to day objects. Perceptions of things that are perhaps uniquely and psychologically relevant to each of us. Kindest regards, Geoff

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