[Critique Group 2] Pieces for 12/27/2018 Pasted and Attached

[Abbie Taylor]

Everyone submitted poetry this time.

***

###1. Poetry from Valerie Moreno

Wilderness

Here in life's wilderness,

I walk amid trees of shadow--

the leaves are the silver-green

of tears unconsoled.

Shivering with grief, I stagger

in poor, misfitting shoes,

longing for smooth clarity--

promise of blessed relief.

I don't like this raw place,

yet, I know going through is the

way to understand, if just to escape.

In the barron brokenness,

I whisper a lullabye,

sing a prayer,

grasp the sweet evenness of tomorrow.

Valerie Moreno

______

Lord, hear my prayer,

do not be deaf to my tears.

-Psalm 38-39


###2. Poetry from Brad Corallo

Cottage Window Candle on the Shore

© By Brad Corallo

Word count 220

So many years-

this weary traveler’s ship,

sailing through dark unknown seas.

Do I see a tiny light on the shore?

Could it be?

That which I have sought for so long?

Is it my star to steer bye?

Have I wandered, storm tossed, for far too many years?

Do I arrive too late once again?

Or do her loving arms still await?

Can there truly be for me

this scarce imagined home coming?

My ship draws closer.

Waves crash on the rocky shore.

Heart begins to pound.

Slowly, sky begins to lighten.

Yes, it is the home I left so long ago.

The tiny light brings me hope.

It is not abandoned.

Resolving out of night, the ancient doc takes shape.

Infused with longing, I steer her true.

Finally tying up at the weathered grey peer.

Exhausted though hopeful I disembark.

Moving over spray washed planks, I reach land.

Following a path, unknown though somehow familiar

I approach the cottage door.

Suffused with a strange mixture of:

Doubt, hope, apprehension and excitement, I knock.

Suddenly the door is thrown open.

Her perfumed warm softness is in my arms.

And through our joined tears I hear her say

“oh joyous welcome, beyond all my fears and dreams, you are home!”

jamesstarfire at gmail.com <mailto:jamesstarfire at gmail.com>

###3. Poetry from Leonard Tuchyner

A Farewell to Wood Stoves

Warmth, like caressing water, drenches me

with radiant, massaging pleasure

deeply into my muscles and bones.

Freshened blood flows through opened arteries,

as my body’s warmed core relaxes

humming hymns to Vulcan’s ardor.

With gratitude, mixed with sorrow,

I know that I must abandon

this Promethean gift to man,

for we have broken basic precepts

by grabbing far more than we need,

thereby doing enormous harm.

I remember coming home

on frigid, white winter days,

greeted by curls of chimney smoke,

beautiful in an azure sky,

portending hot cups of chocolate.

These days, soot chokes the graying air,

as forests burn and coal fires blacken

EVERYTHING!

I must not add to this pollution,

though my heart will yearn for hearth fire.

I sit and stare at the space heater.

It’s an Amish style electric.

The fan-blown warm air flows a short span.

Although pleasant, it lacks gravitas --

a one dimensional flat version --

a mere facsimile of real warmth.

I watch, through its wide plate glass window,

the illusion of flame and embers,

a neat electronic sleight of hand,

Which seems surprisingly genuine,

yet remains a masterpiece of sham.

So with heavy heart, I say farewell

to my well-meaning, marvelous,

irreplaceable, comforting friend,

The old, reliable wood stove.

However, this rolled iron icon

Will not be removed from its honored place,

to be awakened in times of need,

when we can sit and dream of yesterdays.


###4. Poetery from Alice Masssa

Holiday Greetings!  Group Two:

NOTE:  Although I just posted the following poem on my blog, this piece 
is serving double duty due to the holiday rush:  the 58-word poem is 
also my submission for the December 27 critique session of Group Two.  
In the following acrostic poem, the initial letters of the nine poetic 
lines spell the word "mistletoe."

Mission Mistletoe

(a fictional, acrostic, story poem in nine lines)

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

Magical moments, come my way!

Icicles, ice storms--be gone!

Snowflakes come slowly, settle softly,

tenderly transform

landscape in the December moonlight

elegantly keeping clear the path--

trail of holiday hope and love.

Once-upon-a-wish becomes reality:

Enlisted, Sergeant, First Class, comes home for Christmas.

* * *

Thinking of our military families during this holiday season, and

sending best wishes to all--

Peaceful and Merry Christmas!


###5. Poetry from Abbie Taylor

HE Was HAPPIEST

not while at his computer,

hunting and pecking with his good hand,

not when stretched out in his recliner

or sitting in his wheelchair outdoors,

not while talking on the phone

or in person with people he knew,

but when snuggled in bed with me,

his good arm around my waist,

his head next to mine on the pillow.

-- 
Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author https://abbiescorner.wordpress.com 
http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com abbietaylor945 at gmail.com
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