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FOR THE RED DUST WHIRLWIND

Around about ten years ago
I took a chance upon the electronic sea
I casted a poem then watched it go
just to see what I would see.

It floated half way round the world
then washed up on a shark filled shore
where it was read as it unfurled
by folks I'd never seen before.

In that land of old red dust
as well as here and other places
it drifted around as all such must.
I thought it would vanish without traces.

To my surprise ya'll asked for more
and others gathered 'round to see
scribbles writ far from their shore.
Many then tried to help me.

Perhaps they thought I had the "touch"
(more likely they pitied me)
for although I'd not written much
they decided to see what I could be.

Then one day in the dusty land
a small whirlwind came along.
She stopped and took me by the hand
and said "good poetry flows like a song."

Thus I met the meter maid
and though I never heard her voice
nor saw her walk some flowered glade
we became friends as she helped me find my voice.

I would write and she would read
and patiently point out rhythm breaks
( did she grit teeth until her gums would bleed?")
Perhaps she taught for both our sakes.

And the years flowed on and on
me thinking they would never end
for didn't each night end in dawn?
I took for granted my good friend.

Until she showed up less and less.
Then she stopped visiting at all.
She'd tired of coming was my guess
weary of answering muse's call.

And now I hear Judy is gone
to wherever red dust whirlwinds go.
Her sun rising to a different dawn.
I understand but wish it wasn't so.

For my friend Judy

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Yet another wordsmith has left us
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

very sad for me, i take my hat off to you for this beautiful dedicated poem. she was so worth this, and the same things happen always as we never know when we meet the loss and unfortunately we just dont get to say, but i believe its never ever too late even when it is!

Thank you...Teddy

Were she still here she'd still be pointing out rhythm flaws in this one

author comment

whatever shore that Red Dust Whirlwind has landed upon, she is certainly proud of this one in particular. I think that it is a testament to her great teaching that this is one of the best meters I've ever seen from you.
She will be greatly missed. Well done Stan. ~ Gee.
.

Our Chatroom is open 24/7 Feel free to use it for
keeping in touch We have poets around the world and it is fun
to have real-time conversations with those that are up
all night or on the other side of the world.
.

many of our best on site teachers have left. Who is here to replace their likes? Thank you for your kind words

author comment

Just to see what I could be

Could be a good alternative for 4th line stanza 1.
Just a thought. There I'm telling you about rhythm! Take care my friend

Thank you...Teddy

but the problem is I use that in last line of stanza 5

author comment

ok i shall go away and think a bit!

Thank you...Teddy

Hi Stan,
A wonderful tribute to a friend. It's been a number of years since I frequented Neo regularly. Judy was a regular at the time and a pleasure to interact with. I swear, each time I come in here now, another talented person has passed. Stop it people!
I'm sorry for you loss. Your poem is lovely Stan.

Sue

Yes we've lost a lot of people who were all the heart and soul of Neopoet. Who will replace them when it comes to poetic Knowledge?

author comment

This is so beautiful, Stan, and I am sorry.
Thank you,
L

Around about ten years ago
I took a chance upon the electronic sea
I cast a poem then watched it go
just to see what I would see.

It floated half way round the world-------------------this line i changed a bit
then washed up on a shark filled shore
where it was read as it unfurled
by folks I'd never seen before.

In that land of old red dust
as well as here and other places
it drifted around as all such must.
I thought it would vanish without traces.

To my surprise ya'll asked for more
and others gathered 'round to see
scribbles writ far from their shore.
Many then tried to help me.

Perhaps they thought I had the "touch"
(more likely they pitied me)
for although I'd not written much
they decided to see what I could be.

Then one day in the dusty land
a small whirlwind came along.
She stopped and took me by the hand
and said "good poetry flows like a song."

Thus I met the meter maid
and though I never heard her voice
nor saw her walk some flowered glade
we became friends, she helped me find my voice.

I would write and she would read
and patiently point out rhythm breaks
( did she grit teeth until her gums would bleed?")
Perhaps she taught for both our sakes.

And the years flowed on and on
me, thinking they would never end-------------------------i put a comma for pause
for didn't each night end in dawn?
I took for granted my good friend.

Until she showed up less and less.
Then she stopped visiting at all.
She'd tired of coming, was my guess
weary of answering muse's call.

And now I hear Judy is gone
to wherever red dust whirlwinds go.
Her sun rising to a different dawn.
but I really wish it wasn't so.--------------------here i changed a bit

For my friend Judy

i did say i would come back and my promise is my word, i sertainly couldnt ever edit and explain the way judy did so you will have to be grateful for me! I know you will be.

i love everything about this poem stan. Please feel free as ever to pass by my idea's and take what ever you like.

Thank you...Teddy

I appreciate and give consideration to all suggestions. But I often wait a while before making any changes so don't be discouraged if you don't see instant changes

author comment
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