Leaden lumps of rain pour down from a slate grey sky upon a lake of blackened water. On its surface dance a thousand diamond coronets. Here and there flashes of silver as fish leap, jump, and frolic in the rain.
A swan, head held high, swims serenely twixt reeds and lily pads, unconcerned, seemingly unaware of nature’s fury.
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A shaft of sunlight shoots between the clouds, which scatter, revealing a canvas of lightest purest blue. The trees, minutes ago sombre hunched and dour, salute the sun resplendent in their new coats of glistening glossy green.Bird song breaks the silence, and a fox ventures from its lair. A cloud of insects tumble in the air and a frantic dragonfly hovers, darts then hovers again.
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1 comment:
Keith, I'm interested that you say in your profile that you don't 'get' poetry and that it's too 'wordy'. Poetry is different things to different people and, although I don't want to impose my ideas, it gets particularly fuzzy in the area of poetic prose and prose poetry (which I struggle to understand). For me the defining idea for poetry is the arrangement of lines on the page, because things like rhyme, rhythm, metaphor, simile and different kinds of imagery. can be found both in poetry and prose. On that basis, I would classify what you have written as 'poetic prose' and I see poetry as less wordy than prose, almost as if every word is weighed and has to justify it's inclusion. Terry Eagleton has written a useful book called 'How to Read a Poem', in which he considers poems as artefacts.
Best wishes,
Carole/watermaid
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