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Roisin, Filidh

Arbored cloaks of yearning surround my eager frame,
wood sentinels to guard my flanks as I move, purposed in time,
deeper still into the grove to find a trace of your name.
A song so often sung to hungry ears in miles passed
inviting me to brave that woodsy clime
to see if there, just past the trees, your laughter lasts.
There with your laugh and name I’ll find that smile.
So vibrant, so sweet as to crack the callous bark
of vicious vines grown round that rose defiled;
so strong while shining ruses of stability to peers
yet encumbered by cruel briars, thorny, dark.
A sunny day to hide the pitched-night fears.
The softness of the bud has hardened since
familiar years where innocence was spent.
But, never shall I be strayed, unconvinced.
Interred by lines of time there lay such gems:
sparkle in the eyes, beauty in the bent
corners of that comely smile’s hem.
Therein is where I know the true rose lies.
In softest gesture shared when defense falls.
In lush embracing scents, beguiling eyes,
tittered woodmouse giggles, early morn complaints.
But, never in the brambles, memories pall,
dark copses, dulled senses, history’s constraints.
Such poet roses, sweet one, demons can’t taint.

21 May 07

Rated 9.5 (9.5) by 2 users.
Active (2): 9, 10
Inactive (0):

(define the words in this poem)
(1 more poem by this author)

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How extraordinary.
I didn't know that poets could and did still write like this.
Its incongruity in  the 21st century quagmire makes it all the more astonishing.
Given that the author is unknown, it is doubtful that he or she will indulge the readers in a dialogue.

Our loss.
 — banditfemme

ah, rrichards, you have stepped forth. Congratulations on this breathtaking poem. Your other one is equally noble. I'm going to 9 it, and then 10 it, just to see if I have identified you correctly as its author. If this makes no sense, kindly disregard the prattle.

with esteem
 — banditfemme

 — rrichards5

Beautiful writing.  I have only a couple of comments that might help, though this is very good.  It's mostly a need for commas in some places and asking why the caps on all lines, first of all?  

I might change purpose to purposed in line 2.  Not sure what "still ruse of stability" means there.  Maybe "use the ruse of stability?"  You seem to be saying it's something going on.  Line 12 - pitched night's seem more appropriate than night.  If you mean night, maybe your instead of the in that line.

I LOVE lines 17-18!  

Squeaked really falls flat to me.  Every other word is so perfect, then squeak sort of wrecks the mood, as it seems too inelegant for the rest of the piece.

Perhaps you could say intimate infectious giggles or bird-like or something to go with the woodsyness of the poem.
 — Isabelle5

she squeaks when she laughs
 — rrichards5

and she's afraid of the dark... "pitched night fears". Thank you for the suggestions though. I'm far from ungrateful.
 — rrichards5

But roses don't and aren't you comparing her to a flower?  There must be another word besides squeak, that seems so out of place in an otherwise nearly perfect poem.

However, it's your poem, not mine, and only you know what you're hearing.
 — Isabelle5

I'm very bad at punctuation. I overuse so I chose to underuse.
 — rrichards5

thank you isabelle. sorry if it came off rudely.
 — rrichards5

Pitched-night, what a lovely phrase.  You did not come across rudely at all.
 — Isabelle5