In a breeze of timid whispers
and with wary downcast eyes
the secret world was opened
to where true depth of feeling lies.
...
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I don't see the purple? envelope today which I use to send a message to a poet. : ( self-protection? ? bri : )
(cont.) My wandering finger-'controlled' mouse accidentally clicked on 4 (four) stars. BUT that was a FINE choice albeit ** done by accident! !
Another 'problem' on PH is that once stars are voted, there is no way (which I know of) to changes ones vote. (cont.)
I espcially liked lines 5-8. The rhyming is good, but non-rhyming iines I appreciated at least as much as rhyming ones.
'true depth of feeling lies.' I 'can't help feeling' that this enters the realm of 'Poetic Gynecology', a little-known specialty among famous poets.
This is an adequate poem, unlike many of yours, anais, which are 'rambling' accounts of your socializing with friends. As a poem, I like this more; as a story, I like the rambling ones more. : )
dog days: 'noun plural The hot, sultry period of summer between early July and early September. A period of stagnation.'
A beautiful romantic poem. Poets listen to nature's whispers, while others only see and enjoy the sight.
I really like this one. Thanks for sharing. (And the double picture makes you twice as beautiful!)
'...a breeze of whispers.' I like the way things come alive in your poems. The eternal dance of veils. Mother Nature started it, because as Heraclitus says, NATURE LOVES TO HIDE (since she herself is a labyrinth) . The other half of his saying was forgotten: '...AND LOVES TO LEAP OUT OF HIDING'
ATTENTION! ! ! ! I now see the 'message symbol' is no longer an unlabeled envelope for us to ponder, but the word 'message' inside a 'space' shaped like a lying-down HOTDOG. I like it.