Clare

Wonder.

by Clare

Saturday 20th January 2024 10:50 pm

I wonder if there is a place

Where poets go to cry

A special spot

Perhaps a garden

Filled with daffodils

And ever rolling hills

I wonder if there is a space

Reserved for poetic souls

A meadow full of wildflowers

Neither hot, nor cold;

Temperate, with just the lightest

Summer breeze

A place where feathers fall

And become the poets quill

Birdsong falling onto pages

Made from autumn leaves

A tiny little corner

Where raindrops are filled

With love

A zillion little raindrops

Bombing the world with love

Every flower blooming kisses

And bumblebees giving hugs

A meeting place for poets

Where rainbows blush

And crickets hush

I wonder …

C.K.24.

🌷🌷(14)

◄ Between the Moonbeams.

Just Curious. ►

Comments

Stephen Gospage

Tue 23rd Jan 2024 07:52

This is very special, Clare. It gave me a sudden feeling of happiness.

Clare

Sun 21st Jan 2024 20:19

Gosh … such a wonderful mixed response for my little poem! ☺️. Thank you all for taking the time to read and provide your insights - they are much appreciated.

R A Porter

Sun 21st Jan 2024 12:54

This is wondrous and wise and curious, with some haunting imagery

“Birdsong falling onto pages

Made from autumn leaves”

👏

Graham Sherwood

Sun 21st Jan 2024 12:37

Clare I think the places people go to compose poetry are myriad. Historically drugs and alcohol have proven to be exceptionally good places for the creative arts! Whilst physical spaces might be conducive to inspiration I’ve rarely found them conducive for the process itself.
Thank you for providing this intriguing question

David RL Moore

Sun 21st Jan 2024 11:18

Hello Clare,

I like your poem. It confirms to me my own feelings about poets and some of those who readily accept their often self bestowed title.

The poem itself portrays a thoughfulness which suggests it is heartfelt.

I wondered at some point if your questioning was ironic in nature, that you already know your answer. I suspect as suggested in a previous comment the place you speak of is a personal space of reflective retreat, less likely to be a physical space..although the question appears sincere.

I would qualify that I find peace and the space for contemplation in nature. I frequently visit such places in solitude. These places create a peace in me which offers contrast to many of the subjects and memories I conjure whilst immersed in the reflective environment they offer. Many of those reflections are the extreme opposite of the tranquil environment in which I summon them.

Having read poets I personally deem to be accomplished and credible I believe such methodology is probably a relatively common trait of behaviour.

I think it worthy of note that I do not often write of the beauty of such places whilst I am within them. I often write about them whilst I am in an environment devoid of them. In this respect it seems to me that it is the absense of things which enhances our ability or desire to summon them in our minds eye.

The Great War poets in most part conveyed the horrors they experienced after leaving the Battlefield, many of them wrote their greatest work in splendid isolation often withdrawn from human contact within some sort of escapist tranquility.

The idea I dislike in your poem is the implied notion that poets are special, in that they have a special place to go to cry. It suggests a desired exclusivity. That desire is again revealed and reinforced by the comment preceeding this one, that Poets are a "Special Breed of people" the notion of that is at odds with poetry itself. Poets are not special people they are ordinary people who are expressing something in a way that can be treasured or discarded by those who consume their writings. In this respect poets need no special place of retreat in order to suffer for their art or in order that they create art.

Similarly as if I was disturbed whilst within my own space of creative isloation, I would be extremely displeased having to share any poetically reserved space for the exclusive use of other recovering/retreating "poets", I can barely imagine anything more tiresome. In that regard such places should be outlawed unless mutually desired.

I find the idea of sharing my creative space with another person repellent and counter productive. However, the result of anything created and subsequently shared is beyond our control and I am glad of that. The former stance may seem to be a selfish trait, I believe it probably is. I am prone to honesty.

Thank you for providing food for thought Clare.

I hope you regard my input in the contemplative manner it was submitted. It is not criticism, merely opinion which your poem readily evoked.

keith jeffries

Sun 21st Jan 2024 00:43

Clare,
thank you for this poem. It spoke to me in a way no other poem ever has. Poets are a special breed of people. We appreciate beauty and yearn for love. Surely when we cry we retreat somewhere special and comforting. Either alone or in the arms of another where can let those tears fall in a sacred place.
A moving poem, skilfully penned.
Thank you again for this,
Keith

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