Red rose encased in snow, show the maple trees the way to say hello to winter leaves invigored still with orange and yellow Spring locusts emerge in August and the sun cowers, for rain deserts dream for hours Blue orchid uproots herself to fly alongside the birds leaving sorrow soil, refusing erosion, rejecting the wind thoughts? im still working a bit on the last stanza, trying to find someway to make it flow a bit better
I like the resonance in the opening two lines. Now you have to build on that. Be sure of what season you're focusing on and make sure the reader is clearly aware of it. If you want to include seasonal change make sure your reader follows along. Poems are such small things. They may be delicate but they also must be unapolegetic in identity. I wasn't sure what season I was in after the first stanza.
the seasons were used as a means to reflect my own resistance to change, and how there are certain things i just wish would stay the same, or different, than how they actually must be. i do see where you are coming from though. also, could not a poem be ambiguous in its identity? thanks for the comments
Sure, poems can be ambiguous. They can be almost anything. But if you want to write well, you can't afford to confuse. Ambiguous poems can be great but there's more working in the background than we think. The poem can be ambiguous but not the poet.
I agree with what kidder said. But I really enjoyed some of the imagery here, like the sun cowering and maple trees saying hello to winter leaves.
i more understand what you are saying now, and its true, kudos to you for picking it out, i think i did stray a little bit and wasnt concise enough in my word choice for what i wanted to say. thanks kitten (i really like your stuff by the way)
I love the motion, the colors and the paradoxes... I would simply sharpen the presentation. Red rose encased in snow, show the maple trees the way to say hello; winter leaves still invigored, with orange and yellow, receive the greeting. Spring locusts emerge, in August, the Sun cowers; Deserts dream untold hours, for rain. Blue orchid uproots herself, to fly alongside the birds, leaving sorrow soil; refusing erosion, rejecting wind. Thanks for sharing your poem. Vivid and elemental, is your imagination, here.
