[Critique Group 2] Leonard's comment's on sandra's p;iece

[Leonard Tuchyner]

Galanthus is a flower that holds a resempblance to ginger.  
Hearty in the cold weather. 
It has psychedelic Properties. 
It likes  spaces where it feels a light breeze. Its first effects were not that great, 
but it promised to bring out experience 
wich could be described by an opening of pleasure and concept; 
By summer it is gone. 
Moly is something that can cause some of the same effects. 
It is milder and can be a  buffer for the deleterious effects of psychedelic experience.  Experiences are shared. 
Everything is positive, 
at least in the long run. 
Maybe the writer has shared these experiences with a partner. 
A male partner. 
These are intimate 
and emphasized with laughter. 
There is yet more to come 
and she imagines them walking hand in hand  talking, laughing, etc 
as their consciousnesses  expand.



Sandrastreeter

	 Thu, Jun 15, 11:18 PM (9 hours ago)		 
 
 
Galanthus
 
Still a-bloom in April—
Hardy against late-winter chill—
Much preferring station in spaces
Where zephyr  kisses his cheek:
 
In early days, we spoke just enough
To capture fragrance heralding
Later sun and song of birds:
A snow-drop prophecy.
 
Now, summer nears, three years hence,
And Galanthus sleeps again.
We savor its remembered beckoning,
Know that Moly is contender
Against evil siren songs,
And antidote for other poisons recognized.
 
So much shared  . . .  so much yet to come ,
Of delights we never could foresee.
Mine, enumerated here—his, kept close within my heart
And for him alone to ever judge or speak aloud:
 
The lift of leaves in sharing tome,
Or swapping stories of our feline friends;
Shop talk of composition, and psychology;
Safely-bounded, patient guidance toward emotive liberty;
Advice tendered in empowering ways;
Avidity for thought and language, and for gustatory fare;
All, enhanced with laughter seasoning.
 
Everything toward promise: darkness and cold cannot hold sway.
Despite obstructing distance over sound,
We yet hold hands—walking  . . .  walking still
Toward awakening.
 
 
Sandra
 
Every word has consequences. Every silence, too.
(Jean Paul Sartre)
 
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to me, Critique
 
----------	
Galanthus
 
Still a-bloom in April—
Hardy against late-winter chill—
Much preferring station in spaces
Where zephyr  kisses his cheek:
 
In early days, we spoke just enough
To capture fragrance heralding
Later sun and song of birds:
A snow-drop prophecy.
 
Now, summer nears, three years hence,
And Galanthus sleeps again
We savor its remembered beckoning,
Know that Moly is contender
Against evil siren songs,
And antidote for other poisons recognized.
 
So much shared  . . .  so much yet to come ,
Of delights we never could foresee.
Mine, enumerated here—his, kept close within my heart
And for him alone to ever judge or speak aloud:
 
The lift of leaves in sharing tome,
Or swapping stories of our feline friends;
Shop talk of composition, and psychology;
Safely-bounded, patient guidance toward emotive liberty;
Advice tendered in empowering ways;
Avidity for thought and language, and for gustatory fare;
All, enhanced with laughter seasoning.
 
Everything toward promise: darkness and cold cannot hold sway.
Despite obstructing distance over sound,
We yet hold hands—walking  . . .  walking still
Toward awakening.
 
 
Sandra
 
Every word has consequences. Every silence, too.
(Jean Paul Sartre)
 
_______________________________________________
Group2 mailing list
Group2 at bluegrasspals.com
https://bluegrasspals.com/mailman/listinfo/group2

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Leonard I. Tuchyner, Author



https://www.dldbooks.com/tuchyner/