[Susan McLean]

Baroque

Lighting the empty chambers of my heart,
the chestnut trees hold out their candelabra.
Spring overloads my synapses to start
lighting the empty chambers of my heart
with bumptious daffodils and scents that smart,
birdsong as fervid and intense as opera.
Lighting the empty chambers of my heart,
the chestnut trees hold out their candelabra.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Susan—

Lovely triolet. As the titles make clear, the abundance of sensory stimulation in the operatic birdsong, curving “candelabra” branches of chestnut trees, and frilly, fragrant “bumptious” daffodils announces the arrival of spring dramatically. I think I prefer “Baroque” to “Florid.”

Your poem leads the parade of poems celebrating spring that we will see for the next few weeks. As an Alaskan, I say, “Let the parade begin!”

Glenn

[Roger Slater]

The only thing I'd question is "smart," which doesn't strike me as the right word for what you're describing, and thus feels rhyme driven. Maybe I'll reconcile to it after a few more reads? But perhaps you could have the scents "dart" if you can adjust the following line to make it make sense?

In place of "empty", maybe try "gloomy" or "cloudy" (to explain why it needs lighting).

I like this overall, especially the candelabra/opera rhyme.

[Jan Iwaszkiewicz]

Hi Susan,

This I think will trigger me to try the form. One nit, the beautiful concept of the the chestnut tree candelabra lighting the chambers of your heart followed by synapses starting to light is a doubtful path.

Jan

[Susan McLean]

Thanks for the responses, everyone.

Glenn, "candelabra" was meant to refer to the flowers of the horse chestnut trees when they bloom:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aescul...anum_flori.jpg
Actual chestnut trees were nearly wiped out in the U.S. by a blight, so when I say chestnut, I mean horse chestnut. "Baroque" is the intended title, and "Florid" the cover title.

Roger, when I say "scents that smart" I am referring to the swoony kind of fragrance of lilacs, so gorgeous that it almost knocks you out. But also, I get hay fever in the spring, so the scents hurt in that way. With "empty chambers of my heart" I was trying to suggest the sensory deprivation of winter, followed by the sensory overload of spring. I love it, but it feels over-the-top, like the supersaturated colors of a Rubens painting.

Jan, I am still trying to decide whether "synapses" belong in the poem. They are part of the sensory overload theme of the poem.

Susan

[Alex Pepple]

Hello, Susan,

This is a lovely and well-developed triolet—an immersive evocation of spring’s emotional and sensory intensity. The repeated lines are evocative and mostly flow well, though I wonder if the rhyme occasionally feels a bit driven by necessity rather than natural progression.

You might consider a few small tweaks for smoother flow and internal logic. For example:

To light the empty chambers of my heart,
the chestnut trees hold out their candelabra.
Spring overloads the synapses which smart
to light the empty chambers of my heart.
In scents of bumptious daffodils I chart
birdsong as fervid and intense as opera.
To light the empty chambers of my heart,
the chestnut trees hold out their candelabra.

This version preserves your vivid images while softening some of the line breaks and giving the phrasing a more reflective cadence.

Of course, the original has its own rhythmic charm—just offering one possible variation in case it proves useful.

Cheers,
...Alex

[Susan McLean]

Alex, it is useful to hear your take on the rhymes and meter. I need to hear what is not working for some, though I prefer the more varied meter. I don't know how to evoke a paradox ("scents that smart") without risking the possibility that some readers will think the "smart" is there for the rhyme. Since I am trying to suggest an over-the-top reaction, I think I will accept the possibility that not everyone will take it the same way.

Susan

[Rick Mullin]

Hi Susan,

I like this a lot. The key image of the chestnut trees holding out candelabra works well.

Like Roger, I was initially thrown by one word. It's in the same line as Roger's word. Mine is "bumptious". It's a good word to describe arriviste daffodils, but is it tonally a good word for this poem? I may have to read it into place in subsequent passes, but maybe think about it. I should add that I felt bumped by the word, rather than the word describing the flowers.

Rick

[Hilary Biehl]

I like it, Susan, though like Roger I am not sure about "smart." I rather like "bumptious" - I can see the objection, but I think it's fun.

The language of the poem does feel ornately over-the-top, or baroque, which I assume was very much intentional given the subject matter.

[David Callin]

I like it too, Susan. I think "bumptious" is fine, and "smart" is intriguing. (I didn't necessarily need your justification of it.)

Cheers

David