[Alex Pepple]

Symphony of Wings and Petals

The summer garden claims its hours.
As leaves flash pearlescent light showers,

which quicken petals everywhere,
each moment hangs in restful air.

And then a butterfly alights,
the wings a blur in simple rites.

Its amber couples with the heart
of bloom and each one plays its part,

until all boundaries turn to haze—
wings and petals locked in phase;

as nectar scores a steady pour,
two twine, with pollens in uproar.

Thus, lovers learn from these frail wings
of patience which a blossom sings,

of stories that the pollens tell—
seeker and sought in each one’s spell.

The pair, like wing and waiting bloom
inhale an accord of perfume,

with brush of hand on yielding skin,
where touch awakes what bides within,

such that the heaves of their breaths blend
and in communion they ascend—

within that fecund garden space,
beauty presents its truthful face.

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- **L1:** The summer garden claims the hours → The summer garden claims its hours

- **S2, L2:** the day becomes still like a prayer. → each moment hangs in restful air.

- **S6:** where nectar drips for a ritual sip / as two entwine and pollens whip. →
as nectar scores a steady pour, / two twine, with pollens in uproar.

- **S9, L1:** inhale a fusion of perfume, → inhale an accord of perfume,
→ "Accord" is a precise perfume term (a perfumer's fragrance blend), enhancing the imagery.

- **S10:** with brush of hand on yielding skin— / a touch that quiets the inner din, →
with brush of hand on yielding skin, / where touch awakes what bides within,

- **S11, L2 – S12:**
and in communion they ascend, // fading in nature’s fluid space, / where beauty presents its true face. →
and in communion they ascend—// within that fecund garden space, / beauty presents its truthful face.


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~~~First revision was: ~~~

Symphony of Wings and Petals


The summer garden claims the hours.
As leaves flash pearlescent light showers,

which quicken petals everywhere,
the day becomes still like a prayer.

And then a butterfly alights,
the wings a blur in simple rites.

Its amber couples with the heart
of bloom and each one plays its part,

until all boundaries turn to haze—
wings and petals locked in phase,

where nectar drips for a ritual sip
as two entwine and pollens whip.

Thus, lovers learn from these frail wings
of patience which a blossom sings,

of stories that the pollens tell—
seeker and sought in each one’s spell.

The pair, like wing and waiting bloom,
inhale a fusion of perfume,

with brush of hand on yielding skin—
a touch that quiets the inner din,

such that the heaves of their breaths blend
and in communion they ascend,

fading in nature’s fluid space,
where beauty presents its true face.

--------

S2,L2: 'grows serene' > 'becomes still'
S9,L1: 'The heart of wing and waiting bloom' > 'The pair, like wing and waiting bloom,'


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~~~Was previously ~~~

Symphony of Wings and Petals


Within the summer garden's lustrous hour
when light transmutes to pearls and golden shower,

that course through trembling petals they ensnare,
each moment shimmers poised in jeweled air.

With sovereign grace a butterfly alights,
its wings aflame in its sustaining rites,

its silken amber meets the crimson heart
of bloom, as each partaker plays its part—

until all boundaries melt in vibrant praise,
wing, petal, flare in variegated daze,

entwined as heady nectar's ritual sip
effuse new secrets in their primal grip.

Thus, lovers learn from wisdom-laden wings
and patience of a blossom as it sings,

love stories that the honeyed pollens tell,
seeker and sought ensnared in each one’s spell,

two hearts entwined like wing and waiting bloom
weave dusk's slow dance in summer's perfumed room,

through gentle brush of hand on yielding skin,
where mortal touch and nature's truths begin,

breath meeting breath in patterns that transcend
the heights where their communion may ascend,

until they fade into that timeless space
where beauty finds its own eternal grace.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Alex—

A very appropriate poem for Valentine’s Day: a meditation on the beautiful way that love is woven into nature. The meter and sound effects are flawless.

I noticed that you juggle quite a few adjectives, and I wondered if some of those that are evaluative and abstract might be either trimmed, replaced with a metaphor, or swapped out for a more visual, concrete alternative. I bolded the adjectives and suggested some alternatives in red, removing the repeated “entwined” and extending the images of fire and sacred ritual. Of course, I offer these suggestions simply as a possible alternative.

I enjoyed your poem, Alex.

Glenn

Originally Posted by Alex Pepple

Symphony of Wings and Petals


Within the summer garden's lustrous hour
when light transmutes to pearls and golden shower,

that course through trembling petals they ensnare,
each moment shimmers poised in jeweled air.

With (sovereign) priestly? grace a butterfly alights,
its wings aflame in (its sustaining) sacramental rites,


its silken amber meets the crimson heart
of bloom, as each partaker plays its part—

until all boundaries melt in (vibrant praise) colored haze,
wing, petal, flare in variegated (daze) blaze,

(entwined as heady nectar's ritual sip)transforming heady nectar’s ritual sip
(effuse new secrets in their primal grip.)into a Eucharist with passion’s grip.

Thus, lovers learn from wisdom-laden wings
and patience of a blossom as it sings,

love stories that the honeyed pollens tell,
seeker and sought ensnared in each one’s spell,

two hearts (entwined) now wed like wing and waiting bloom
weave dusk's slow dance in summer's perfumed room,

through gentle brush of hand on yielding skin,
where mortal touch and nature's truths begin,

breath meeting breath in patterns that transcend
the heights where their communion may ascend,

until they fade into that timeless space
where beauty finds its own eternal grace.

[R. S. Gwynn]

I would call this neo-Georgian in tone and language. One of my teachers once said, "The adjective is the enemy of the noun"--an exaggeration perhaps but worth thinking about. The previous comment underscores many of these. The imagery verges on beautiful without our being told it's beautiful. Trimming it to tetrameter might help. Marvell.

[R. S. Gwynn]

I would call this neo-Georgian in tone and language. One of my teachers once said, "The adjective is the enemy of the noun"--an exaggeration perhaps but worth thinking about. The previous comment underscores many of these. The imagery verges on beautiful without our needing to be told it's so beautiful. Trimming it to tetrameter might help. Marvell.

[Ashley Bowen]

Originally Posted by R. S. Gwynn

One of my teachers once said, "The adjective is the enemy of the noun"--an exaggeration perhaps but worth thinking about.

Miller Williams? If not, it sure sounds like him.

[R. S. Gwynn]

Yep. I think he got it from Ciardi. I've retained a slew of Millerisms: "The poet is the professor of the five senses."

[Julie Steiner]

Hi, Alex!

I'm having trouble parsing some of the sentences in this, to distinguish the main subjects and verbs from the modifying phrases and clauses. Some of that confusion can be cleared up via punctuation, I think. For example:

     Within the summer garden's lustrous hour (1)
     when light transmutes to pearls and golden shower, (2)

     that course through trembling petals they ensnare, (3)
     each moment shimmers poised in jeweled air. (4)

Moving the comma from the end of L2 to the end of L1 and adding a comma after "shimmers" in L4 would clarify a lot:

     Within the summer garden's lustrous hour, (1)
     when light transmutes to pearls and golden shower (2)

     that course through trembling petals they ensnare, (3)
     each moment shimmers, poised in jeweled air. (4)

Since the rules say relative clauses beginning with "that" cannot be separated from the rest of the sentence by a comma, the comma before "that course" turns "that course" into an adjective and noun, and the antecedent of "they" becomes unclear. I suggest reviewing the difference between "that" and "which" here, and then either eliminating the comma before "that" or changing "that" to "which" (which can have a comma in front of it).

"golden shower" should be "a golden shower". The poem can handle a little metrical flutter better than it can handle the weird artificiality of an omitted article, in my opinion.

Next sentence:

     With sovereign grace a butterfly alights, (5)
     its wings aflame in its sustaining rites, (6)

     its silken amber meets the crimson heart (7)
     of bloom, as each partaker plays its part— (8)

     until all boundaries melt in vibrant praise, (9)
     wing, petal, flare in variegated daze, (10)

     entwined as heady nectar's ritual sip (11)
     effuse new secrets in their primal grip. (12)

That sentence is too long and unwieldy for my taste. The comma at the end of L6 should be a period, because "butterfly alights" and "amber meets" are both independent subject/verb sets. That means that there are two complete sentences here, inappropriately spliced by a comma. There's another comma splice at the end of L9 that should be a period, too.

I would change L10 to avoid the meter-driven omissions of little connective-tissue words — perhaps something like "Wings' and petals' variegated daze / entwines..." LL11-12 are a tangle of nouns and verbs that don't always watch in number the way I'm expecting.

There are lots of comma splices in the remaining lines of the poem, but I'll stop there.

Yes, poetry can break the rules, but generally there are good reasons for those rules, so there need to be even better reasons for a poet to break them. Comma splices are frowned upon because readers need adequate time for one sentence to sink in and be appreciated before they get hit with another. In my view, each comma splice robs two sentences of the power they would have if allowed to stand alone.

If you still want to create a breathless effect by replacing periods with commas, then your sentences will need to be less convoluted, so that the velocity of not being allowed to pause for long doesn't interfere with the reader's ability to digest all those subjects and verbs.

Cheers,
Julie

[Rick Mullin]

Hi Alex,

I would call this just plain Georgian. The tone, established by the poem's many adjectives and syntactical inversions, seems like a parody. But obviously you're playing it straight. There are some fine images, but you have to endure too much verbal (adjectival?) superfluity to get to them. As such, I don't think this poem would have much of a life in the world of the 21st century outside the staunchest of formalist poetry journals.

Rick

[Nick McRae]

It's very pretty, but does seem to paint an overly romantic picture of love to the point that it may come across as cloying.

That being said it's a well constructed poem and I'm sure it'd have a receptive audience.

[Alex Pepple]

Thank you, everyone, for looking in, commenting and suggesting! I thought Valentine's day was just right for posting this! While I was leaning for a lush performance, clearly, the qualifiers seized the day ... as primarily noted in the commentary. Anyhow, a revision has been posted! And with that--

- Glenn, it's great you dived in first. Thanks for all the time you took to read this in-depth, and especially, for the detailed commentary and attempts to sweep away the excess of qualifiers. Your critical attention is very much appreciated!
- Sam, thanks for looking in. True, dropping lines down by a beat is a popular means of tightening and trimming, as you've well noted. The Ciardi quote is entertaining and fitting!
- Julie, thanks for that in-depth syntactical and grammar critique, along with effective punctuation and diction ... a good and effective reminder!
- Rick, thanks for the analysis. Hopefully, the revision feels a little less, ahem, Georgian now!
- Nick, thanks for weighing in. And the new version should be not so overly romantic!

Again, I really appreciate everyone’s insights. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts on the new version!

Cheers,
...Alex