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Life Lessons 1978 (August Contest)

I remember that summer
long ago
when you built my house
board and beam reaching
for the warm summer sky,
bleeding pitch that blended
in the breeze the smell of pine,
the tall grass yellowed by
the burning sun and the slow
buzz of heat bugs
sounding off the days.

Hammer, nail, and sweat
all in rhythm with our
pounding hearts
tightened to a fever pitch.
Each time a certain glance
and bristling smile
would ignite such desire
that we became like thieves
stealing fragments of our time
until there was no turning back
from the crime.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
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?
Editing stage: 
Contest: 

Comments

I obviously always hired the wrong people as carpentry helpers lol

I know that beautiful is a much overused word, but I think that this write deserves the title!
This is a LOVE poem of the first degree! It flowed well from beginning to end and although romantic, it didn't overpower my taste-buds with all the [normal?] sugar. The title gives a sense of time and keeping of memory, while the rhythm and pattern kept it moving. A little crit: I think that you could do without the first [and] in the first line of the second stanza. ~ Geezer.
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I appreciate your comments. This poem is mostly memorized now so I hadn't even noticed the redundant use of 'and' that would be better with a simple comma. Thank you, Geezer, for pointing that out.

Respectfully,

Marthalyn

author comment

Although I write many loooong poems, I do like to keep the lines crisp for the most part. I think it makes for easier reading and understanding. This one is superb, in that you get the ideas across in so little space without all that gooey crap! Again, nice work! ~ Geezer.
.

Please acknowledge critique and comments.
They are a vital part of our community!
Critique or comment today!

Way back and for some reason my dad liked brown so our house was preserved with that stuff. And our new home covered with shakes was painted yearly with that and your first stanza brought me right back there. And your season mentioned, my favorite time of year. It's all history now and as you, wishing it back, but I suppose that is why memories and nostalgia exist.
Very pleasant indeed..
Best of luck,

~Mark~

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I took note of your crit and followed your suggestion. I think it was a wise choice.
I'm glad you liked it.

Respectfully,

Marthalyn

author comment

I'm glad you enjoyed my poem. The alchemy of memory is often synchronized with many of us.

The house in my poem was my first design. It had rough-sawn wood clapboards that had been saturated with used crankcase oil. The wood was gorgeous after the first dark-brown year. I went to see it again a couple of years ago and realized it will likely last longer than I will. Thank you for your shared memory.

Respectfully,

Marthalyn

author comment
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