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Poetry Magnum Opus



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Between the braids of early morning's wiles

I glimpse old shades; and they reach out to me

from rocks in misty lanes and wooden stiles,

where purple heather blooms sedate and free.

They spiral up like dark and knowing gulls

to act as marks in books; promoting days

where obligation of the heart still pulls

on lines and verses from each well thumbed page.

But in this new dawn’s glow, an opiate

of sunlight spokes lifts me on airborne wheels.

I ride a Doppler skirling chariot

with ticket-whip and passport burnished shield.

It's steeds are champing on the warm west wind

all advocates of conscience to rescind.

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How lovely at the turn, the shift from "old shades" that "spiral up like dark and knowing gulls" to the "opiate of sunlight" experienced in the morning burst. The words point to a flight ("airborne wheels," "warm west wind," and "passport burnished shield"), but in my mind's eye, for some reason, it's a train ride and/or a walk. And that's okay. A poem, especially a layered one like this, can take us anywhere.


As always, the meter is right there. How much I'm hoping to produce a sonnet soon. Thanks for the inspiration.



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

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Tony. My thanks for reading and also for your comments. I felt it was an apt time of year to post something 'uplifting'. B. :smile:

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  • 2 weeks later...
David W. Parsley

Benjamin, it always does my heart good to see a sonnet, especially a trippingly optimistic thing like this. In addition to the attention to meter and rhyme, I note the nicely turned volta ahead of the final couplet. That business of rhyming "opiate" with "chariot" - never saw it before: makes a nice thought connection between dream state and the vehicle of its realization. My only difficulty is with the final line, which seems a little rhyme- and meter-forced, but the end is upon us and it is no easy thing to fit. I like the feel of throwing caution and consequence to the wind: venture forth!



- Dave

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Hi Dave Thanks for your review on this which is much appreciated. The word “rescind” ( a transitive verb) requires an object, which is probably why that particular line sounds 'forced'. I took longer considering my 'escape' than writing the rest of the piece. Who'd be a poet eh? :smile:

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Between the braids of early morning's wiles" sets a tone with feelings I have anticipated on every two-mile walk on "my" one lane road where you can read the history of ages-old settlers and everyday changes. Three worn out walking sticks attest to my stubborness in returning, greedily,

to the free feast on both sides of the road. I don't wear a watch.

Thank you for this glimpse into reality.



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