“Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
and Death shall have no Dominion.”
Dylan Thomas
Monet at Giverny
13-16 /16
13
fish aloft like birds
skimming wet sunshine
spring’s first swallow
rising from the depths
to snatch a golden note
quivering in the air
14
thunder raises dark ripples
lightning a forked tongue
insinuated into paradise
an apple tossed away
caution thrown over the shoulder
as sharp as salt
15
winds of change
that first bite
too bitter to remember
16
timeless this tide
this ebb and flow
oh great pond-serpent
biting yourself
forever
Amazing!
And I love this
“Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
and Death shall have no Dominion.”
Dylan Thomas
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Dylan Thomas was born in Swansea (as I was), and I have long been enamored of his poetry. I have used lines from his poetry as titles for my works on a couple of occasions and I have based some of my rhythms on his, though in part it is the natural rhythm of the Welsh with which I grew up. Alas: my work will never be as good as his … but I keep on trying!!!!
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Lots of beautiful images here: the salt and apple over the shoulder; the swallow catching the note.
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I double thought on whether it was a note or a mote and stuck with note, though I am still wondering. Glad you like it. Throwing salt over the shoulder i an Old Welsh Superstition to take away bad luck.
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What a beautiful poem!
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Thank you. It’s one of my favorites.
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Every line is beautiful, Roger! I love the written depiction of the cycle of time. This is a wonderful piece.
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Thanks, Tanya. There is something eternal about the painter’s image trapped in the water’s mirror. I am so glad you like this poem. I remember it when I see the paintings and I recall the paintings when I re-read the poem. Another of nature’s cyclical movements.
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Thanks, Meg. These four short poems complete the sequence of Monet at Giverny. When I read it in public, I ask the audience to close their eyes and listen to the colors. It is a verbal kaleidoscope when performed this way.
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Descends, not deteriorates! 🙂 The poem doesn’t deteriorate *smacks forehead*
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No problem, Meg. The weather deteriorates and the poem ends in a circle that takes you back to the beginning … I hope. I think I missed the raindrops pooling circles on the water … maybe I will add that in, if I revise it!
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I really loved this one – The whole Monet at Giverny, I mean. 🙂
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Thanks, Meg. Something “happened” while I was writing it and it really “clicked”, somehow. I thought at the end: “Did I really write that?”
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Oh, that’s super cool! True inspiration: breathed in and exhaled onto the page!
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It happens to all of us at one stage or another. Deus est in nobis is how the Roman poets described it. It is a strange transfigurement that descends upon me occasionally, when I am blessed by that Celtic Goddess blown in from the Sea who doubles as my muse.
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AH! Love it!!!!!!!!
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Oh I like how it starts out with sunshine and spring and deteriorates into storms and darkness. The serpent biting itself…
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