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Hot tea mild and tempting
sweet steam curling up
to greet the quiet morning
golden sun dance through
the window blinds

wake me with quiet ease
lure me into another day
let me smell new spring
wet mud splashing fresh
and loving as a child's play

stop my ears from the noise
of murdered children
when brutality reigns
let me hear the sound of soft
rain and the gentle chirping
from new neighbors in the trees
for just this moment
beguile me blind
against the cold and gray
Death of Winter

©2019 Marthalyn

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: 


It's too bad the down sides of life were entered but it's a part of what we may think in contemplation over waking in a peaceful state I suppose.
I prefer ice coffee and oatmeal but the tea sounds nice.

Again a very nice reading this morning, thanks,
I believe there is really no need to enter your copyright notice as most of us would be doing that as well.
Lot's of published authors around here but it's your choice as always.
Later now,


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I appreciate your information about the copyright notice. I guess it just became a habit for me to do that over the years. It's more comfortable for me to use it even though it may be unnecessary.


author comment

this wants to rhyme in the worst way! The rhythm is so good, that... well. And there is a time or two, when you give us the rhyme, but not in the right spot. [I think that I want it to rhyme so badly, that I look for it until I find it]. Anyhow, a fine piece that gives one a sense of wanting "Peace" and finding a little as you sip your morning tea. ~ Geezer.

Please acknowledge critique and comments.
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Critique or comment today!

Thank you for your critique. I must confess, I am a card-carrying member of the Dead Poet's Society and in love with free verse. Consistent rhyme does not a great poem make. I like it at times, but I am not tied to its form.
I thank you for taking the time to offer your critique even though, sadly, I think my work might continue to be a disappointment to you.



author comment

I love the ending, "for just this moment, beguile me blind, against the cold and grey, death of winter." reminds me of the Deaf Republic that I just got and read through twice. A beautiful poem about life's gift of earth and humanity during oppressive wartime.

Thank you for your critique. You did, in fact, notice my favorite line in my poem...' for just this moment, beguile me blind, against the cold and grey, death of winter.' I could not face a day knowing the conditions of this world without some relief through distraction, perhaps a dream will do. I have not read the Deaf Republic but I will certainly read it. Thank you for that suggestion.



author comment
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