poetry by dead men
my feet were crossed within his lap
as he read to me
poetry by dead men.
i listened with awed intent
as the atmosphere around me
slipped into oblivion,
as the spine of books crackled upon opening
spilling with pages in sepia tones
spoken in the rapture of his voice.
there were offerings by Robert Frost,
of how the woods
were dark and lovely and deep…
and E.E. Cummings
who wrote about the rain with all its obscurities,
having such small hands.
the afternoon was robust and spirited,
like the valiant efforts
of Hemingway’s fisherman, to the sea
my heart became a voyager to the past
as an accumulation of snow
began to fall…
as he read to me
poetry by dead men.
Beautifully penned, Kelly. Excellent write my friend, really dig the imagery. Nicely done per usual. Appreciate you.
Damian
My one and only reply. Thank you most kindly, Damian. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday!
Kelly, Kelly, Kelly!!!
A huge 💥CONGRATULATIONS💥 to you on your excellent Win! 🏆
No one paints wondrously vivid, deeply emotional, metaphorically enthralling Free Verse imagery more magically brilliant, via the endlessly colored medium of creative articulation ⁓ than YOU!
And, no one’s poetry excites and enthralls my depths more thoroughly than Yours. You’re a True Master Poetess – in every sense of the words. I’ve always enviously admired your incomparably original skills with a pen.
Your first two verses alone made of me a living, breathing voyeur to the captivating ambiance and verisimilitude in your moment’s reality … I mean, truly, I was there ~ even when the snow began silently falling.
I couldn’t be prouder of and happier for you, Dear Kelly, always … hugs! ⁓ Richard🖌
You and I go back quite a way from posting on the WC together …that’s what makes this review even dearer to me! And here it is, Thanksgiving morning…and here I am giving thanks for you! xo
Wowzers! This was great!
Thank you most kindly, Atticus!
“my heart became a voyager to the past”
Some writers don’t need (don’t use) huge words to try and hide their mediocre poetry with glossy accessories. You don’t.
You are incredibly effective talking to the reader in a language we all can follow fluidly. That is skill. You have it.
Truly rewarding reading your material every time.
I was anxious for your review. I am now wearing the smile you gave me! Thank you!
There’s a quiet enchantment here—how the simple act of listening becomes a journey, a communion with voices long gone. I love how the snowfall mirrors the unfolding of the words, each line falling gently yet leaving a lasting trace. The poem makes memory, literature, and presence feel alive at once…..Great to see you here.