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The Woman in the Grass

Sometimes I like to take time out of my busy life
to remember,
The Woman in the Grass.

She sits in a paddock.
The grass has long turned brown.
Her long hair mingles with the foliage.
Dark waves cascading down.

She peers up at the heavens.
Mottled by many a dark cloud.
Her storm-grey eyes like daggers.
O! What mysteries they shroud.

She gasps as it begins to rain.
Acidic tears pouring down.
She falls asleep as all her pain,
Seeps into the ground.

She is the Mother Goddess.
We've drugged her into sleep.
We've poisoned, pillaged, and plundered her body.
The punishments we must reap.

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?
Editing stage: 

Comments

I, too, welcome you and it is a fine poem, this "The Woman In The Grass".

Sadly, the deep scars in our only home, are devastating. There is nothing it does not touch and you touched them all beautifully and honestly.

~A

Hi,

the first 2 stanzas remind me a Pre-Raphaelite painting, and so i enjoyed the imagery. The metre is consistent through out the poem and so the poem flows quite well.

Nice job.

Lou

Stand tall, be proud to be who you are, give the world the finger!!!!

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