| Author | Message | ||
| Lisa
Member Username: lisa_m Post Number: 169 Registered: 11-2003 |
thanks for getting me to do this Gary  The Moon Wakes in Parts dust devil moon *new moon * is blue shadowed, even after the night has swallowed it whole. Lavender and witch hazel scent the fields and creep towards the river bed. toe moon *waxing crescent* like a flap of skin, weightless in a bowl of sky. These nights her dreams are full; she divides herself, into fire, into ice. Only when thunder carves the sky and red seeps like melted wax to fill the wound will she wake. rag bag moon *waxing gibbous* grown fat with moonstone and white flowers. Love songs permeate the dark. He rummages inside deep tidal pools of self; pulls out tin stars that shimmer like star fish through the sand. He writes her name in footprints. hunters moon *October full moon* Evenings that shiver with its own blue, that burns itself into the fields of the farmhouse. This night wanders wolf crazy with hunger, whilst on the farmers table: a platter of meat and rough potatoes. A scattering of winter berries. Plenty enough for two. | ||
| marty
Valued Member Username: marty Post Number: 544 Registered: 10-2003 |
lovely imagery, contemplative in some parts. I enjoyed the read. Cheers Brethren | ||
| E V Brooks
Intermediate Member Username: lia Post Number: 1072 Registered: 12-2003 |
Fine writing ljc. Love 'dust devil moon' and how you've created a dark and mysterious atmosphere with your words and line breaks. Much enjoyed. Lia | ||
| Zephyr
Intermediate Member Username: zephyr Post Number: 2681 Registered: 07-2003 |
Lisa, lovely imagery,enjoyed all of these. | ||
| M
Moderator Username: mjm Post Number: 3073 Registered: 11-1998 |
A skillyfully crafted piece of work, Lisa. Yes, Mr. B almost had me writing about moons, too, with his piece. Glad I decided against it as you have done far better than I could have. I think my favorite image came right at the beginning, about the night swallowing the moon. Great stuff. Oh, just a little typo. I think you need an apostrophe on farmer's in the last one. | ||
| Kathy Paupore
Intermediate Member Username: kathy Post Number: 1972 Registered: 12-2003 |
Lisa, enjoyed. The fisrt two lines of Hunter's Moon reads a bit awkward. Maybe a typo, "its" to "their". K | ||
| Gary Blankenship
Advanced Member Username: garyb Post Number: 3942 Registered: 07-2001 |
Lisa, a fine read. I'm glad that I could inspire such a need poem. Althought pleased, that doesn't stop the suggestions cut is in line 1 cut both likes in part 2, a question of metaphor vs simile Kathy is right, their plural. Thanks very much. Gary Time to read FireWeed. Go in through http://www.mindfirerenew.com/ to get to the issue in a couple of clicks | ||
| Lisa
Member Username: lisa_m Post Number: 173 Registered: 11-2003 |
Dear Marty, Lia, M, Kathy, and Gary, Thank you all for reading and for leaving me such generous and thoughtful comments M - l would LOVE to read a moon poem by you so please do! Kathy - Yes l wasn't 100% sure about that last one and felt that it wasn't as smooth as it should be. Thanks for the suggestion, l think l will take it Gary - I like all your suggestions aswell although l'm going to keep one of the 'like's in part 2. Thanks again | ||
| Lisa
Member Username: lisa_m Post Number: 174 Registered: 11-2003 |
oh and Gary please don't ever stop with the suggestions! | ||
| Lisa
Member Username: lisa_m Post Number: 175 Registered: 11-2003 |
The Moon Wakes in Parts (Revision) dust devil moon *new moon * is blue shadowed, even after the night has swallowed it whole. Lavender and witch hazel scent the fields and creep towards the river bed. toe moon *waxing crescent* a flap of skin, weightless in a bowl of sky. These nights her dreams are full; she divides herself, into fire, into ice. Only when thunder carves the sky and red seeps like melted wax to fill the wound will she wake. rag bag moon *waxing gibbous* grown fat with moonstone and white flowers. Love songs permeate the dark. He rummages inside deep tidal pools of self; pulls out tin stars that shimmer like star fish through the sand. He writes her name in footprints. hunters moon *October full moon* Evenings that shiver in their own blue, that burns itself into the fields surrounding the farmhouse. This night wanders wolf crazy with hunger, whilst on the farmers table: a platter of meat and rough potatoes. A scattering of winter berries. Plenty enough for two. |
