Re source
By lenchenelf
Tue, 06 Sep 2011
- 2827 reads
11 comments
It is my nature to forage, pick wisps of hay
and such for those who much deserve a field
of their own.
How can I scatter the contents of my kirtled apron;
small kernels, seeded on another plain.
Gleaned in hope, each grain or strand may hold a subtle
poison, bring rise of bile, twist of heart, lasting pain.
Sight blighted with the wilt of age,
I know not what I gather.
2008 edited
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Comments
wonderful doodle Lena.. such
wonderful doodle Lena.. such a lovely image though remorseful- that's probably not the right word. I hope you know what I mean?
;)Pia
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Nobody doodles, quite the
Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Nobody doodles, quite the way you do, Lena;-) Tina xx
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I wish my doodles came out
Permalink Submitted by RachelPatricia on
I wish my doodles came out like this - what a beautiful opening stanza, Lena :)
Rachel xx
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I an going to show an
I an going to show an example of what I think is a factor in very good writing. "kirtled" is a very unusual word. Though I know what it means ( I am weird like that lol ) I am also very aware that most Americans would not. Because the descriptive nature of the sentence, and stanza it is in, you make it very easy to understand its definition. Excellent ! This is a damn fine poem :)
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Excellent. "...kirtled
Excellent.
"...kirtled apron..." I wear one in private.
ps.
I'm in a "Party Gown" at the moment...throw me a "Lifeline"
ScoZen
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Hi Lena. I really like this
Hi Lena. I really like this and I deserve a field.
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Deceptively simple and
Permalink Submitted by MistakenMagic on
Deceptively simple and haunting, Lena! Really beautiful poem.
Magic xxx
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I second MistakenMagic . A
Permalink Submitted by Clinton Morgan on
I second MistakenMagic . A contender for the sublime.
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