Thank you for writing that. I love the wind even more after reading this poem. Do you know the poem by Goethe “Wind, du meine Freunde…” ? The wind points to such a big mystery. Thank you again. I really like this website.
Thanks Raven, this has always been one of my favorites (among the poems I’ve written). And yes, I love Goethe. It’s been a while, though, since I’ve read many of his poems. I’ll have to go back and look that poem up.
Beautiful to revive the Shakespear style on nowdays where the free verse is the norm.
I wonder why all the sonnets are beautiful, Shakespear ones even more!
They’re beautiful because the combination of meter and rhyme creates a sense of expectation and fulfillment (at an aural and sometimes subliminal level) that free verse doesn’t and, by definition, can’t. Meter and rhyme add a layer to language that, at it’s most basic, we find in nursery rhymes — and which appeal to children for just those reasons.
I found this through a link on your page about sonnets. I like how, through the cooperation of imagery and enjambment, it brings a freshness and playfulness to a familiar theme– one I’m sure many poets would be hesitant to take on nowadays. The way the sense wends through each successive rhyme takes full advantage of the Elizabethan sonnet form.
The child, and the wonderful “love-me, love-/ me not,” match the preceding lines well in tone, but I can’t help but feel that the transition to them is somehow inadequate– how do you get from the blowing leaves to the game? The way it’s written, I feel like I should be making some kind of analogy between them, but I‘m having trouble finding one that seems right. Likewise, in the closing couplet, there’s no real transition to the “petals we try to catch”. And the precise significance of the last line still eludes me, although I think I get the general drift of it. That could just be my fault. But either way, you’ve got an enviable grasp of rhythm and meter. : )
As regards ones own poems, I think it’s best not to explain or defend. However, you’re not alone in thinking the last two lines are jarring. Obviously, I like it the way it is, wrote it that way and think it’s best left that way. That said, my judgment may be flawed. Time will tell. :-) Whenever we write poetry, our best efforts also reveal our flaws..
Totally agree about explanation. And there’s no better critic than your future self. (Although the other kind can occasionally be good for something.) : )
Thank you for writing that. I love the wind even more after reading this poem. Do you know the poem by Goethe “Wind, du meine Freunde…” ? The wind points to such a big mystery. Thank you again. I really like this website.
Thanks Raven, this has always been one of my favorites (among the poems I’ve written). And yes, I love Goethe. It’s been a while, though, since I’ve read many of his poems. I’ll have to go back and look that poem up.
I enjoyed the word play in lines 11 and 12.
Thanks Ben. :-)
Beautiful to revive the Shakespear style on nowdays where the free verse is the norm.
I wonder why all the sonnets are beautiful, Shakespear ones even more!
They’re beautiful because the combination of meter and rhyme creates a sense of expectation and fulfillment (at an aural and sometimes subliminal level) that free verse doesn’t and, by definition, can’t. Meter and rhyme add a layer to language that, at it’s most basic, we find in nursery rhymes — and which appeal to children for just those reasons.
I found this through a link on your page about sonnets. I like how, through the cooperation of imagery and enjambment, it brings a freshness and playfulness to a familiar theme– one I’m sure many poets would be hesitant to take on nowadays. The way the sense wends through each successive rhyme takes full advantage of the Elizabethan sonnet form.
The child, and the wonderful “love-me, love-/ me not,” match the preceding lines well in tone, but I can’t help but feel that the transition to them is somehow inadequate– how do you get from the blowing leaves to the game? The way it’s written, I feel like I should be making some kind of analogy between them, but I‘m having trouble finding one that seems right. Likewise, in the closing couplet, there’s no real transition to the “petals we try to catch”. And the precise significance of the last line still eludes me, although I think I get the general drift of it. That could just be my fault. But either way, you’ve got an enviable grasp of rhythm and meter. : )
As regards ones own poems, I think it’s best not to explain or defend. However, you’re not alone in thinking the last two lines are jarring. Obviously, I like it the way it is, wrote it that way and think it’s best left that way. That said, my judgment may be flawed. Time will tell. :-) Whenever we write poetry, our best efforts also reveal our flaws..
Totally agree about explanation. And there’s no better critic than your future self. (Although the other kind can occasionally be good for something.) : )