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Sweetbrier they call it
flower of poetry
a wild Rose given hefty status
in Victorian floriography

What would it have meant
to make an arrangement with eglantine in it
then send it to a loved one?
Giving the flower that represents poetry
Instead of writing a poem itself

Maybe eglantine is for those
not so clever with words
or just too shy

But I know eglantine, with
its thorns and wild nature,
goes wherever it wants:
the meadow
W.B’s bee-loud glade
even creeping along the gray pavement
he abhorred so fervently
It goes every place a wild flower can go

But I can't write love poetry
So it won't come to me

I do seek it, mind you
Its delicate blossoms
barely recognizable today as a rose

As with kissable lips, we’ve come to cherish
only the reddest, most supple and dewy
petals for our bouquets

the eglantine grows as a wily shrub
planted by my mother and my aunt
at my childhood home
Does she know its history?
I don’t think so,
but now that I do,
sometimes I wonder if she sowed them
for me
Most days I think she hates my loneliness
more than I do

I don’t write love poetry
I don’t know love
but I do know flowers
and that will have to be
Good Enough

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
A little tweak to the end, I think I like it
Editing stage: 


is going, I'll be looking for the rest of it! ~ Gee.

Come to Chat on the Darkside
every other Saturday night 8pm to ?
Bring your dark and delicious work
to show.

I don't know if I necessarily want to add more lengthwise, but I want to improve what is here. If I did go longer, any thoughts on what you'd like me to explore more?


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author comment

The poem has a narrative, short snippets of history and points of view, both public stance, making interesting generalizations followed by a personal stance, a confession.
Then you introduce childhood, mother, and aunt, who hates your loneliness more than you do (quite a brilliant line)...and I love the end.
I really like every little thing about this poem but a few very small things- finish the punctuation, not some here or there. also don't cap Rose, or Good Enough. good enough. Don't think you need that. I don't know what W.B. is, but not so important I know every reference in the poem.

This is a very finely crafted poem. Feels like it belongs to be published somewhere.
There are a lot of publishers you can send for free for consideration (see on Poet's & Writers website)


I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

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