[Carl Copeland]

What I Wouldn’t Do for Love

I had to wait, but I’m the kind for love
and knew that I was meant to find your love.

If love is in my stars, their light alone
will grow the rose. Why risk my pride for love?

Leaving a film (three hankies), there you’ll be.
Who else would be as bleary-eyed for love?

I’ll keep the garden under lock and key
and wait—our secrets safe inside—for love.

A shooting star risks all to have the earth,
but in my youth, too many died for love.

The moon gives every lumen of itself
to find one window open wide for love.

Silvery fingers stroke the dreaming form
of one with mourning on his mind—or love.

What did I almost ask for in his dream,
he wondered. What if I’d replied, “Your love”?

My heart, a heavy fruit that craves a tongue
to taste it, never shed its rind for love.

It’s late, old man, but tell the faint of heart:
you’d risk the world to lie beside your love.


Edits
S4L1 was: Till then, I’ll keep the garden under key
S4L2: secret > secrets
S5L2: how > too
S7L1: and silver > Silvery

[Perry Miller]

Originally Posted by Carl Copeland

What I Wouldn’t Do for Love

I had to wait, but I’m the kind for love
and knew that I was meant to find your love.

If love is in my stars, their light alone
will grow the rose. Why risk my pride for love?

Leaving a film (three hankies), there you’ll be.
Who else would be as bleary-eyed for love?

Till then, I’ll keep the garden under key
and wait—our secret safe inside—for love.

A shooting star risks all to have the earth,
but in my youth how many died for love?

The moon gives every lumen of itself
to find one window open wide for love,

and silver fingers stroke the dreaming form
of one with mourning on his mind—or love.

What did I almost ask for in his dream,
he wondered. What if I’d replied, “Your love”?

My heart, a heavy fruit that craves a tongue
to taste it, never shed its rind for love.

It’s late, old man, but tell the faint of heart:
you’d risk the world to lie beside your love.

I like the poem unequivocally. You've arranged the poem around a gimmick (perhaps there is a better word, technique?), but that is okay as I approve of gimmicks in poetry if they work.

I especially like this image:

The moon gives every lumen of itself
to find one window open wide for love,

... the moon looking for open windows! That's great.

Now, having said this, I'll need to dwell on the poem before I have any more specific thoughts, as I absorb new poems slowly and need to "know" them like a friend before I see the flaws.

Oh, is it okay for me to memorialize the first draft by quoting it, or is that somehow bad form? I don't want to fill up the server.

[Paula Fernandez]

Carl--
Wow. That's stunning.

[Perry Miller]

I love the "three hankies".

[Roger Slater]

Bravo! That is all.

[John Riley]

Yep, Carl. Bravo!

[Glenn Wright]

Very impressive ghazal, Carl—

I like the subtle patterns of imagery—stars and light, the Garden and fruit—that help the poem cohere without intruding too much.

At the beginning, I was certain that the speaker was an older man who had finally found the love of his life late in his life, but as I approached the end, I was not at all sure that his love was not all one-sided. In the 8th sher the speaker seems to imagine a scenario in which he wishes he had declared his love, but didn’t. The 9th sher (my favorite) says that the speaker never opened his heart to love. In the last sher, the speaker seems to offer himself as an object lesson to young people that his lack of courage and failure to declare his love caused him to miss out on it.

Very solid work.
Glenn

[Joe Crocker]

Hi Carl

I also think this is beautiful and moving. Like Glenn, I'm uncertain whether this is a man finding love late in life and urging the young to follow their hearts and not to hold back, or whether this is a regretful "if only" lament on lost chances. Some stanzas point one way and some the other. Either way, it has me reaching for the hankies. Another Bravo.

Joe

[Susan McLean]

Great ghazal, Carl. But a traditional ghazal would never enjamb between two shers, as you do between S6 and S7. Rules are made to be broken. It is up to you whether you want to stick to the tradition or not.

Susan

[Yves S L]

Carl,

I am happy you did not give up on the ghazal. Keep going deeper.

Yeah!