Like the tall grass fielded
By an inkling of eternity.
Shaped by wind and sun
And rain and a poet’s pen.
A charisma, of sorts.
Like a darted valentine
Bolted to the breast.
As a meteorite to a flame
Upon atmosphere,
The cosmic act of self.
Like the tall grass fielded
By an inkling of eternity.
Shaped by wind and sun
And rain and a poet’s pen.
A charisma, of sorts.
Like a darted valentine
Bolted to the breast.
As a meteorite to a flame
Upon atmosphere,
The cosmic act of self.
You nailed this. That ending line is superb! 💖
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Thank you so much!!
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I never felt the enormity of being alive till this poem ……
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Thank you, John. That is wonderful of you to say. Very much appreciated!!!!!
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Wonderful poem from . . . a poet’s pen.
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Thank you, Diana!
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I hadn’t thought about this in a long time – the lure of tall grasses like the lure of a dark basement, scary and unsure of what might be lurking and yet that “inkling of eternity”…..Exciting to read “like a darted valentine” and the soaring sensation that follows…has me missing crushes, painful to the chest, but thrilling to focus on a love interest.
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Thanks Steve. Yes, those crushes can hurt, but they do make one feel alive. It’s nice this time of year, just to stand in a field and listen to the insects and breeze.
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I’m ashamed to say that I know the words to Robert Palmer’s Addicted to Love song. I actually kind of like it. I guess I like a lot of pop hits probably from growing up on you tube videos. Anyway, it does, as you say, “make one feel alive.” I never turn down the gift when it hits me.
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Haha. Addicted to Love is an earworm. Though I don’t know any of the words except the chorus.
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I love those first four lines!! Sorry. I looked at this on the weekend but I had a horrid head cold and I simply couldn’t make head nor tail of your poem with my head in that state.
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Thank you! I hope you feel better after the head cold.
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I love “the cosmic act of self,” but each image is pristine. Well done!
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Thanks!
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