The open road leads into storm,
through mists and mysteries.
Rain patters on the windshield
as I peer into bluster.
Skyline rolls along,
into varied landscapes
and shifting skyscapes,
tilts and turns
as sun begins
to surface.
Through valleys of trees
in their autumn dresses
in their autumn dresses
into canyons and
up and down hills,
on I journey
until I come into the heart
of the high desert.
I meander along
the gravel entrance road,
entranced.
I am
hushed,
beyond words
for this beauty
to which I have arrived.
on I journey
until I come into the heart
of the high desert.
I meander along
the gravel entrance road,
entranced.
I am
hushed,
beyond words
for this beauty
to which I have arrived.
If you were perhaps wondering why I've been reticent on this blog lately, it's because I'm not a poet and would feel (hmmm) pretentious commenting on something I know nothing about. I will say, however, that your words and pictures flow well and evoke the purest beauty.
ReplyDeleteAnd I like the pun on "entrance" and "entranced."
Sententious is better than pretentious, I suppose. However, I don't think you have to be a poet to have an opinion about poetry. Do you read any poets?
ReplyDeleteAh, yes. I should have known you would enjoy that. I actually chose that word before I realized it was a pun.
That's it. I'm moving.
ReplyDeleteThis camera you've got is KILLING ME! Gorgeous, Polly.
I loved this post! More, please.
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ReplyDeleteNot routinely. I always enjoyed e.e. cummings, and have lately gotten into Walt Whitman. I got started on Edgar Allan Poe (though mostly his prose and not his verse), was a sometimes-fan of Shel Silverstein (as a kid) and am only lately coming to appreciate Robert Frost (despite how popular he is).
ReplyDeleteThere were two poems I read in high school that made more of an impression on me than have any others (until I read Walt Whitman's "Pioneers! O Pioneers!" recently), and have stuck with me the longest: "Mother to Son" by Langston Hughes, and "Simultaneously" by David Ignatow. They both, simply, speak to me.
Postman (or anyone, really): If I may - try Henry Taylor: http://www.pshares.org/issues/article.cfm?prmarticleID=1518
ReplyDeleteEC - Thanks! I don't know if it's so much the camera as just what I get to photograph.
More is soon to come...
Friend...what a delight to partake of such beauty. "Through valleys of trees in their autumn dresses"
ReplyDeleteNow that's a pretty poem that delivers a powerful punch at the end...this fellow is perhaps worthy of my attention...thanks for the link.
ReplyDeleteJennifer - Thanks. I originally had the word "garb" where it says "dresses"; I'm glad I changed it.
ReplyDeletePostman - I'm glad you enjoyed that; it's one of my favorites. He won the Pulitzer for The Flying Change, the book that poem came from.
Dresses, I like this choice very much. I am curious about GARB though and what happened to have you make the change.
ReplyDeleteGarb was my first thought, but when I reread it, I realized it wasn't very pretty sounding.
ReplyDelete