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For Stan again Pastoral workshop

This stroll I’ve taken time and times before.
Each moment was as pleasant as the last.
I’ve seen the trees and harkened to Stan’s lore
while trodding grass as green as days long past.
For green and lush they were spite all the pain
and now I can recall the loveliness.
The fear is still remembered, but as gain;
those lessons learned that helped me to address
the joys and how to keep them close to me.
And so I walk again with my old friend
to gaze at flowers red and blue he sees.
We pass old huts whose roofs begin to bend.
Like us they now walk slowly in the sun.
I hear a mockingbird who, like a hawk,
keens sharply causing rabbits near to run.
No need to give a voice to quiet talk,
the sound the path makes is enough for us.
We two are old and like the huts we creak,
so I thank Stan without the need to speak.
Yes, old now and if wiser we don’t know.
Mistakes seem fewer, although just as hard,
but still we’ve come here time and times before
and I’ll keep coming back as life retards.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
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?
Last few words: 
This is an attempt (poorly) to write in another's style. I have done one ala Carrie and this is the other for my good friend Stan. Importantly, this is what most of Stan's poetry does for me. It has a distinctive calming effect.
Editing stage: 

Comments

this one. I read it a while ago and I am happy to read it again.
It is one of my favorites.

Book marked.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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but it's the only pastoral poem I've ever written, it features our leader and attempts to copy his style. Just too many reasons for me to post it again.
Let the masses not be angry.

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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author comment

this is your second piece for the workshop. I think Stan will be happy with your second piece even more.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me
www.instgram.com/rularules1

Happy that you posted this again, which is why i could read it...it is good for sure as expected from the likes of you, but i wonder why you haven't chosen to break those verses into stanzas.

Regards and thanks,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Too many of the stanza breaks (quatrains) were in the middle of a sentence. I hate that. To have stanza breaks with end stops, I would have needed to write it that way from the beginning. Also, I was mimicking Stan's style (if you didn't notice) and about two thirds of what he writes is absent stanza breaks. He uses them much more these days than when I first met him which was (help me sit down) over five years.

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

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment

Thanks for the explanation which now appears to be reasonable, especially when I am not accustomed to read yours so crammed...of course I noticed and liked the reference to Stan in it which is relevant to your script..

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

can a person crit a poem written with self in mind? Thank you wes....FIVE years?"Stay! you hands don't move so fast" lol.......stan

Isn't that terrifying?

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

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment

around seems to be getting older except me (so I tell myself) lol

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