Poetry Forum

And the night has lit its coal
And the moon is white as clay
And old clouds, giddy, roll
from ashen day away.

And the flesh is drunk on sun
And seeps to wooden beds
And in ending has begun
to dance in nightlight threads.

And the clock is ticking tired
And the light is glowing old
And the idle brain is hired
with stories to be told.

And the lids are soon to fall
And the eyes will search behind
And dreams will set their stall
in the magic of the mind.

Other than the first line I lke this (but then I liked the original as well).

The image in the first line seems out of keeping with the dying down feel of the rest. My memory of coal fires was that you either banked them up or damped them down at night so either there was an ember for the morning or a cold grate with no risk of a fire over night. OK so I'm being over literal again but for me lighting coals has a different symbolism to the rest.

Glad you kept S2.

Steve

sometimes you've got to understand that poetry isn't all rhyme, its metaphorical, reasoning, and usually has a point.

I see you mastered the flow of rhyme but i don't feel the rest.

RedStone.

I rather like this, it is very memorizing. I like it. The repetition serves the poem and doesn't feel dull.

Yes, well done.
The things that struck me as not quite right were the word thread, I would find a way to use tread instead.
And for hired, the idea is good but the sound isn't the best.

Overall though, I liked it alot.

Suzanne

Can we see the original again, for purposes of comparison? I think I share Steve's reservations about the first line, and that's changed, hasn't it?

Cheers

David

just an idea:

& night has lit its coals,
& the moon's — white as clay
& old, grey, giddy — tolls
the ashen days' away.