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Poetry Magnum Opus

rose festival of Tyler Texas


eclipse

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Busking stars summon rose shaped winds

in the dark, pages of history float on to thorns.
Soil ready for birth-wind blows into flowers,
town answers call ready to announce it's worth.
The moon masquerades as a rose spraying the
scent of Tyler over the earth-the moon's Queen.
Dreaming thorns anticipate the night's scheming
yawn, feathered darkness flutters away. Clouds
above a festival are like coins falling in slow motion
to the waters of a wishing well. Tourists surrender
to the smell of festival flowers, ladies in costume 
gather in this carnival which is like a flower left on
a river by a man to travel to his lover. 
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Barry,  This was very interesting.  Have you ever been to Tyler Texas?  Somehow I just can't picture you there.  I think of you more on the craggy cliffs of England.   I've been to Texas a couple of times but it's a BIG state and I've never been to Tyler.  The most lasting impression I have of Texas was driving across the Pan Handle in the 60s and seeing the same thing ahead as I could see behind me for hours on end, flat, barren land.  No mountains, no curves just a straight road with nothing on either side.  Dallas on the other hand was a modern, thriving metropolis. 

I love the line

On ‎8‎/‎19‎/‎2019 at 1:05 AM, eclipse said:
The moon masquerades as a rose spraying the
scent of Tyler over the earth

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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I like how lines one through ten are more abstract, astral, and how lines ten through thirteen are more grounded, beginning with "tourists." 

I enjoyed the mood and the setting/locale. Nice work, as usual.

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Night's. Scheming. Yawn.

Best. Personification. Ever.

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David W. Parsley
On 8/19/2019 at 1:05 AM, eclipse said:

The moon masquerades as a rose spraying the
scent of Tyler over the earth-the moon's Queen.
Dreaming thorns anticipate the night's scheming
yawn, feathered darkness flutters away. Clouds
above a festival are like coins falling in slow motion
to the waters of a wishing well. Tourists surrender
to the smell of festival flowers, ladies in costume
gather in this carnival which is like a flower left on
a river by a man to travel to his lover. 

Hi Barry,

Rich, vivid imagery sharing a common flow and cascading motion.  Not sure the first four lines are needed!

This reader would like a second round of crafting on the final two lines, comes off just a little awkwardly to my ear.

Nice!
 - Dave

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