Welcome to Freshtival, Martin, Ann, Ralph :-)
Here are some strawberries 🍓 🍓 🍓 and, for each of you, a gift bag 👜 (it contains whatever you wish it to contain).
Martin, thanks for enjoying the sonnet. It's part of a series describing a trip around the Scilly Isles. I like your 'Rocky Affair' (I've googled), particularly for the dunlins but also for 'savoring / this moment of expectancy', which puts me in mind of Keats's 'Grecian Urn'. The 'herb Robert' is a pleasant addition too :-)
Ann, I've googled these menhirs and I enjoyed reading your poem. I like the Yorkshire folk and all the similes. Yes, rocks and stones; and one of my next pieces happens to be about trees...
Ralph, thanks for sharing this. I haven't read much Emily Dickinson; there's loads to stuff I want to read, bit the schedule keeps filling up, unfortunately. Sometimes I can listen to poetry things while coding, formatting, referencing, however. I love the 'Coat of elemental Brown' :-)
Here's syllabics/song written almost a decade ago as part of my sculpture series ('his-tor-ry').
Sliced Log Star
A man cuts down a tree,
his aim to play the sleuth,
detecting growth and history,
which he terms 'inner truth'.
A wooden star is sawn,
a monumental art,
and round its flanks the live oaks mourn
the taking of a heart.
And here's a new thing:
Thanksgiving
As his son speaks,
I see Grandad
during our last time together –
sage slacks, white shirt, beige cardigan,
blue eyes twinkling as he leans on his cane.
She, one of the stepdaughters,
muddies his smart clothes
and sets his eyes to reddening.
He wobbles and blurs, unstable.
Where did my Grandad go?
Thankfully,
Grandad returns in glory
with Dad's closing voluntary:
his clothes are sparkling
and his blue eyes gleam.
- - -
Tomorrow: possibly a trip.
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