For Miz Quickly’s poetry prompt #7: places
http://imprompt.wordpress.com/
And for Poets United Poetry Pantry: #145
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/
Well Traveled Poem
This poem will look you straight
in the eye, tell you it has never
been owned, never held home
because it has always been
a bit of a roamer.
With a slight wink, never full
blink, will say it remembers well
that day when the verbs held sway,
and it birthed itself on far bank
of a slow moving river, with just
a twitch of assist from stuttering
lisp of a passing dragonfly.
Then regale you with images
of rugged Montana mountains,
and smell of old fountains in Italy. How
it rode there in back pocket of soft
faded jeans, rocking vague hazy dreams
of becoming a strumming troubadour.
Getting serious, it will whisper
of plans for coming spring, when
it intends to grow wings and fly
into dark imagination of a total
stranger, ignoring all danger
to bring warm glowing light
to a place that has never known it.
Elizabeth Crawford 4/7/13
Notes: Very early this morning, I checked out Miz Q’s prompt for the day, sighed at the blank I was drawing, and went to bed. Woke up with whispers of this trailing like mist
through my groggy head. You bet I wrote it down, at least the bits I could remember.
PS Once again, my return comments on your sites are disappearing into unknown ether. I can like your work, but not leave a response. My apologies to all.
A well-traveled poem, indeed! I enjoyed the journeys.
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Writing down this rambling poem does not in anyway diminish its strumming music and freedom of being.
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I’m glad you caught it before it high-tailed for parts unknown.
Don’t you love it when your mind has been working while you sleep, and you wake up with presents like that!
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A beautiful journey.
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A present indeed, Elizabeth. Dragonflies and Italy, it doesn’t get much better than that.
Pamela
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Oh, I think I would like to travel WITH that poem. What a wonderful journey.
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This one really made me smile. Reminds me a bit of chasing a character and trying to record what he says, hoping it stays still long enough to be captured. Very nice 🙂
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Marvelous!
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Cool! Love the rhyme structure…
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I loved the internal rhymes in this poem and the idea of the poem traveling in the poet’s back pocket! Thanks for this!
The River
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I got you comment…I just have to blink it into existence. It should say waiting for approval…I’ve seen that on other blogs. But earlier this evening the net was ‘wavering’ – maybe it’s all better now.
Faded jean pockets and memories…so glad you wrote it down. It is delightful.
Thanks as always for your visit. Sometimes I forget to check back at your place for your edited reply.
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How wonderful to awake to whispers of this spectacular poem! I loved:
“images of rugged Montana mountains,
and smell of old fountains in Italy.”
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Elizabeth, this might just be my favorite of your poems. It is a total delight to read, first word to last. Wow!
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This poem has a touch of genius about it – a wonderful response to what was a delicious prompt.
I want to keep it to read again.
I rescued your comment from my spam box, thank you.
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I love this one! Rides in back pocket of faded jeans!
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I’m glad Jules said something about your comment in Spam. I checked mine and found two of yours. Who have you crossed?
This is a great read loud poem, a lovely, lilting rhythm, a familiar, thus comforting rhythm.
margo
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This is both a gentle and a rebellious read. I found myself wishing to be tucked into that back pocket riding along with that poem as it was defying its definition by time and place.
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