In Childhoods Past

[Terry A]

Under the spruce trees playing
soft moss and feathery branches waving
surrounded by the trees
we children alive we were
and sounded in the forests’ cheer
Though dark things lurked
they were for other days
          the golden childrens laughter
kept them all away.
There were no omens
behind those dark moving branches
The sun was gentle then
and softened every blow
It was as though
the moments had no breaking tides
And never any reason 
                   to cry or die or lie.

[badger11]

Like the notion of the forest's cheer, an antidote to darker mindsets.

 

[David W. Parsley]

Hi Terry, I like the sense of light-hearted existence flitting through the forest with its alternating demeanor of charm and unrecognized menace.  I would like to see a word other than "lie" in that last line, comes off too sonically easy while lacking the type and magnitude of blow delivered by its companions.

Thanks,
 - David

[Terry A]

Good to see you David, appreciate your comments very much. In this case, however, the last line of the poem says exactly what I want it to say. 

[David W. Parsley]

Hi Terry, I'd like to come back to that point about the final line.  But only after I take a moment to further rhapsodize about some elements that work so well for me in this poem. 

Chiefly it is the marvelous music of the thing that ushers in the wondrous blend of serenity and playfulness that dances the reader through this piece hand-in-hand with the narrator.  It is a charming interplay of end-rhyme and enjambment, internal rhyme and assonance, giggling alliteration.  I particularly like the use of slant and hermaphroditic rhyme in combinations like were-cheer-laughter, and especially golden-children's-omens-those-blow-though-moments-no with its soft nasal sounds and sibilants working with the pealing r's to bring a Bambi-like sense of cheer and assurance to the scene.  The occasional intrusion of menace comes with velar stops in "dark", "lurk", "dark" (actually, either the former or latter instance would work better with an alternate word, to avoid repetition IMHO,) "break[ing]".  Well done.

The childhood sense of wonder, joy, and stability is advanced in a consistent thread and harmony, running counter to the just-barely-restrained dangers stirring the periphery; they will come crashing through eventually.  But for this Day, the glow of contentment and unalloyed gaiety are in control, thwarting the prospect of dread or actual pain.  There is no implied falsity here, but a true garden of primeval innocence guarded with wisdom and benevolence by invisible authority figures.  Though blossoming youth must eventually face harsher realities, it is no lie that preserves this Place that lives on as a sustaining core within the grateful narrator.  So the "moments" which can be imagined to someday know how to cry (indeed, it is that interior garden that takes injury from the pangs and disappointment that come from the outer world that is not as it should be) or even die, have no inherent capacity to deal in falsehoods.  How could they lie, even if they wanted to?  This element is missing from the poem until the final syllable, hence it's jarring effect on this reader.  If that truly is the crowning message of the poem, it would benefit from subtly interwoven preparation, as the other two elements have been.  But in that case, it would become a different poem and this reader would mourn the one that is now.

Kind and Appreciative Regards,
 - David

P.S.  There is a typo in "childrens".

[Terry A]

My Muse is seldom so stubbornly wilful as in this poem. Loss of innocence can be that tragically (jarring) abrupt, this is what the poem says.

It is so insightful your words "sustaining core" and that makes all the difference in the long run. Your generous critique is encouragement towards the revisions you suggest. Thanks David, your commentary is always encouraging towards poeming better.