Awesome beginning to a tale of witches, abandoned houses and a most intriguing book that just begs for reading. Excellent beginning that draws the reader in and, when time permits, will bring this reader back for more!
Good descriptions, a winsome witch and even a terrible storm that fits neatly into place without seemingly being over the top! Well done!
"I'm not the God of the worlds I create--just a visitor with a pen." That line by the author describes her writing to a 'T.' A writer of myth and lore, fairy tale and monologue, this port has much to offer both the casual reader and those looking for something to really dive into.
A short anecdotal monologue, a slice of a mother's life, a verbal photograph for a child's smile and excitement. Well written. There was one error that needed an apostrophe tho...the line is:After telling her my daughters name...
The writing here was so expressive that i could see and hear the moment!!!
I too have met a Mavis or two along my journeys. I worked for the Census bureau and handled the homeless, most of whom lived in the tunnels along side the subway in Boston. Did you know there is a school down there where most of the kids can speak four languages or more and can do advanced math in their heads?
There was an air of pride and dignity and those were two things one simply did not violate. I agree. Too many people need a Mavis because they do not appreciate what they have, how little it may seem.
A poetic statement of the realities of that nasty shadow that dogs too many people. One thing on the outside, a darker thing within...this poem says what too many haven't the guts to admit...all so sadly true...that way more than necessary people just plain don't care what happenes to anyone else...a reflection of the 'me first' mentality that is so pervasive.
Oh, this was so good! I've just read about five of your poems to my husband. You are such an awesome poet. I know, I repeat myself, but today i have found a treasure and I so cannot wait to be able to read every last thing in your port and I've never felt quite like that before!
I have so found me an excellent poet! You, Sir, are an awesome writer! You tell such stories, in the old fashioned way of bards. Walt Whitman comes to mind, you are that good!
Your writing is the sort that seems as if it should be written with a slightly flourishing font in a book with lovely, well drawn painted illustrations which would then reside on my shelf of well favored and well loved books.
mmmmmmmmmmm Thanking you for my brief visit to your dream world where everything is topsy-turvy and nothing is the right color and yet, it is. Brief for magic spells usually only last a short while, at least the good spells that is, and this poem was just that: magical!
I really liked this poem of getting through tough times with a special friend. I really liked the 'playing along a mystical web' line, because you put in a nutshell what we all really are and how those thin lines are woven keeping us all in touch and connected no matter what. Good poem, good read, excellent truths within.
I miss my mom *sniff* I liked this. It made me smile, gave me a case of the warm-fuzzies and yes, made me cry a little. You said it well, covered all the bases and I expect, made your mother's day!
I've giving you the reviews etc anyway just because!
Excellent short story about persistence, determination and generosity leading to one very happy gentleman...or perhaps, I think, two quite happy gentlemen! Well crafted, good use of dialogue, and all in all, a most intriguing read!
This is #3 of 3 reviews.
I've enjoyed meandering your port. I think I was the winner in this particular case!
A very different short story with well developed characters, believable due to the excellent language and dialogue used throughout to further the short story. The words used were completely consistent with both characters.
I absolutely LOVED this. *wonders why he just didn't make something up in the first place*
Um, wasn't that the day you bailed out of the perfectly good airplane and parachuted down into the middle of that rich guy's birthday party interrupting some argument and saving the birthday guy's life when your parachute got entangled with the bad guy thus stopping him from shooting everyone in sight and you were then declared hero of the moment and featured on Yahoo's odd news page?
Whew! This story poem has left me shaking, tears are streaking my face and I smile. This is an awesome poem, very well written and such a good read!!!!! One i shall remember for a long, long time! Well done!
Herein please find review 4 of 5. As i sit at my desk, I look over at the mail to go out to the mailbox when I finish these reviews. I have several long time, elderly friends to whom I write honest-to-God real letters every few weeks or so. Some are written on velum stationery, others on fine linen with floral accents. The anticipation of those return letters filled with the day to day events of their lives is right up there with some of my greatest pleasures.
This poem, on the lost art of letter writing is a timely reminder that this art needs not be lost and should be introduced to the younger generations along with that also lost art of the thank you note! Email is fine, but it just isn't quite the same and somehow, plopping down at a desk and clicking on the inbox just isn't the same as taking that walk to the mailbox!
This poem, told from the viewpoint and questioning of a dying soldier is well crafted, and one of those poems for the ages. It matters not what war or when. It matters only that this everysoldier died with honor on the field of battle. One of the countless and too often forgotten soldiers who died for their country, but that should be remembered far more than they are by the short memoried and unappreciative public.
*wonders where now this ancient bucket live and if it still occasionally is allowed to quench its thirst with a sip of water.*
Excellent poem questioning the history of an old bucket prized by the author, and brought home as a treat. The possibilities of where and at what well it might have once hung, the stories of those folk who once used this old bucket are what stirs the imagination in this forray into the past.
This is the first of the five reviews you won at Sherry's Auction.
I really enjoyed this poem of a winter storm, told and experienced from the perception of the storm. Cannon reports of falling branches, the chattering of the sleet as well as other images bring this story-poem to a freezing reality.
I only have one comment on a line that perchance could be fixed.
"Bundled-up children brave my frost-biting
cold to play with frosty breaths and red cheeks
in my white winter playground. "
Are the children playing with frosty beaths etc? Or do they have....
Given I have just enjoyed a late wintry blast that dumped six inches of snow on my tulips, I especially enjoyed this! Well done, harry!
Whew. Tears. You have grown through all of this. You are such a strong woman now, and hopefully believe that you are all you want to be. Make-up..bah! Your internal make up is worth so much more. I pity him. And you are well off without him.
Well written, and I hope, an inspiration for others who may well have tred in your footsteps!
Goosebumps! Good one! And the choice of names...hit home with that one for me! Funny how we all see such different things in a picture. Excellent story!
This well crafted poem balances the richness and vibrancy so oft associated with spring with the scientific reasonings behind that flurry of color that means the end of cold and slush and snow! Well done.
I'm using this in this week's For Authors newsletter :)
Hi and welcome to WDC. I particularly liked this short poem because of the word choices, the images so clearly pictured with a sparcity of words. It works so well here!
I particularly liked the phrasing :
My useless arms
Dangle at my side.
Numb from embracing
Futility so tightly.
Excellent images and portrayal! I liked the first four lines equally well. Well crafted poetry. You are a most welcome addition in our midst!
I'm using this in this week's For Authors newsletter.
fyn
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