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Moon Spun

I dance to melodies both bright and swift
diminished only by the rising sun
and yet, within the swirl where chances sift
I struggle with my smile when song's begun.
I stumble when my dreams and heaven meet,
as "fancy free" and quicker dancing feet
will join the dark to scribe my written word,
and blend its voice to song of mocking bird.

Oh dear sweet sunrise, stay far from my sight
that I should still dream on into my night-
create those magic words; art to my page,
like lovers move to breathe an actor's stage.

And though I weep to miss the light of day;
my stoic stand begs for the night to stay.

If I am to awake before my due,
imagination tossed without a sound
would hollow in some moniker's debut
forgetting firmament and solid ground.
My gloom will hail and end in thought's demise,
quite certain as this dance could soon surmise
that here beyond the curtain of my woe
will my creation bleed -- and then let go.

So dear the words beneath this orb I write
while dawn deters my pen from moon-spun white,
and links my heaven's earth to blaze of gold
with all my darkest dreams and writings told!

My eyes awake and blink for this new day
with hope she has not melted art away.

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http://www.howtodothings.com/hobbies/how-to-write-an-aubade
Double Sonnet Aubade

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

Ah the Pamela form I have come to know, you do it so easily that it makes me envious, but we all know I don't have the patience of it and I will defer to you and your knowledge of being pretty much expert at it.

Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

This is an older piece that I have been working on and editing to rid myself of those ugly gerunds. I always think of you when I do that *winK* and I end up with a better poem.

Your ideas, thoughts and critiques have always been so helpful to me. I am so glad you enjoyed this one. Thank you again. ~Pamela

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ah pam, this piece just sings of you. a beautifully light rendering of your poetic voice. one line in particular stands out to me as it has the feel of something i wrote, hmmm for your ap contest!!

"like lovers move to breathe an actor's stage."

this reminds me of the piece "poetic stage" the collab i did with mike at ap. LOVED that contest, btw!

i have nothing critical to add. this definitely feels polished and well edited. lovely work. :)

~lori

"I am the lonely soul of a waterfall."

I am so pleased you enjoyed this one. It was truly a labor of love. Glad to hear too that you enjoyed our collaboration contest. It was an amazing contest when you have entries like we did. Tough choices all the way around. You and Mike did GREAT. We loved your piece.

I love the idea of Aubade and thought the double sonnet format worked well for it. Thank you for such kind words. Most most appreciated. ~Pamela

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haha. I came thisclosetowritinganaubade....by writing a poem called *aubade*.

You shine in your endeavors, Ms. Lamppa!

~A

I am glad you wrote a poem titled "aubade". How cool.
Thanks again for popping by.

~Pamela

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This is MY kind of poetry. Although I'm certain were I to submit it, I would be told that rhyme restricts the poet's muse and meter brings on that thrum, thrum, thrumming that puts us all to sleep.
I do have a critical complaint. I came here expecting a lesson in poetic form and what do I get? A bloody link? Ah well, of course I'll use it. If I'm to remain in your dust I must strive to keep up.
What can I say but silliness? The poem is marvelous. It really does feel like something written at night with a quill and a bottle of ink. a glass of wine by the candle at the window staring out at the moon that lights the room so much more clearly. You would look lovely in high collar lace. Your features all but demand it.
Seriously, I know when I am taken by a poem, for the language wraps me up (in this case into some 19th century dream) and I must read it again to remember what in the world it was about.
wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Ahh, Wesley, my poetic friend.
For you:

AUBADE:
The only rule of an aubade is that it somehow involves the arrival of dawn and a human response to it. But there are traditional modes and themes that appear in aubades throughout the centuries.

I think double sonnet speaks for itself. *wink*

I am pleased for your words and glad you enjoyed this dreamy poem. It is lacy and is meant to feel elegant and filled with moonlight magic. So very pleased it met the mark.

Thank you. ~Pamela

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author comment

my favorite lines

that here beyond the curtain of my woe
will my creation bleed -- and then let go.

and the end lines too..

My eyes awake and blink for this new day
with hope she has not melted art away.

it was a treat to read this ...

raj (sublime_ocean)

Thank you raj.
So very very pleased you enjoyed this one.
Your thoughts are most appreciated.

~Pamela

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