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BLUE RIDGE ECHOES

Daylight broke an hour ago
quickly through a cloudy sky
here where ancient oak trees grow.
I sit as time and life goes by.

Alone suits me on this day.
Not even traffic noise comes here
on this morn that's still and gray
as geese fly by I wait on deer.

A puff of breeze... a blizzard starts
of brown and tan water oak leaves.
I watch as each one twirls and darts
some ticking off of my coat sleeves.

And all the while in these blue hills
it seems the old ones haunt this place
as mists rise from steep hollows' rills
then disappear without a trace.

While far below whitewaters flow
with riffles and pools here and there
where brook trout and stump knockers grow
and the scent of mosses tint the air.

Ridges march toward the northwest
then fade into the heavy air
which I inhale deeply into my chest.
I close my eyes without a care.

...I startle awake...what did I hear?
The shadows have now become long.
Was it a fading Cherokee flute soft and near
from a long lost forgotten year
or just some kind of wild bird's song?

But the sun is getting low
so I arise and quietly go..

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

good next poems book scribble on I shall read

I have had problems completing a poem lately but maybe my dry spell is coming to an end. Good of you to drop by

author comment

finish it after snow comes the next day
all fog will clear away

to the forest walk again you may

here in the deep south lol

author comment

you lead me on a trip through forest and down paths that I have never trod but feel like I know from reading your works.
I love the descriptions of the breezes blowing through the woods and the smells they bring to the reader. The little bobbles I find in the rhythm, don't matter much in the telling of the story. As you know, I can't get out in the woods to have these little adventures anymore, so when you tickle my memories and they respond, I'm pleasantly pleased. Thank you. ~ Geez.
.

I am always happy to do something to revive good memories of times gone by

author comment

What a lovely poem, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. I shall return to get the full implications of some lines, as I don't know "the territory", so to speak, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

I am pleased you enjoyed this and will be happy to receive your feedback

author comment

This poem is really nice.
Only a few crits. S2,L4 you can add "by" after fly and the meter is better
S5,L4 "ant" should be and?
S6,L1 does "Ridges march northwesterly" work there?

Overall, one of my favourites here.

Thomas

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...so like my lost dreams...the flood

I'll fix the "ant" typo right now and think over the other suggestions before I edit. Thanks for dropping by

author comment

Scribbler poetic mastery is amazing. I enjoyed the rythm, the pattern and cadence of words implored in the stanzas.
Each line is strongly connected and it maintained the inflow of thought.
Great piece indeed!

'Blue Ridge Echoes' is sweet as gum!

"Poetic license
gives
the poets
the free will to
embroider a good tale
and deviate from the established rules of language"~Jackweb

Now you've done it!. I'm gonna have to get new hats to accommodate the swollen head lol. I am pleased you like this

author comment

I doff my cap for you. The beginning and ending is excellent.

"Poetic license
gives
the poets
the free will to
embroider a good tale
and deviate from the established rules of language"~Jackweb

for your encouragement to a writer this is fighting writer's block

author comment

Well-wrought poetry.

"Poetic license
gives
the poets
the free will to
embroider a good tale
and deviate from the established rules of language"~Jackweb

SCRIBBLING NO
STAN NEO'S POETIC MAN

loved. i guess anybody can get lucky

author comment

I SUPPOSE so
in your regime
I was three times

in your case luck had little to do with it

author comment

Stan the scribbler

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