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IN WINTER'S DEEP (Imagery Shop poem)

I inhale a deep and cold dry breath
then breathe out a cloud of fog
in a forest near as still as death
as I walk beside a frozen bog
where shadows stretch from slanting sun.

This first month of the new year
when heavy frosts greet every day
and antlers desert tired buck deer,
brings memories from far away
like painted leaves now all turned dun.

Tired legs lead me to a stump
where I sit to rest a while
and listen to my old heart thump
after hiking a mere quarter mile.
Far off I hear a lone hound run.

How many winters have I left
both behind and yet to come?
One day I'll leave these woods bereft.
I sigh, arise, my seat now numb
then head back to where I had begun.

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?
Editing stage: 


Stan, i always feel as if i walk beside you when i read your poems, and no doubt this old heart would be thumping also. Nice poem again, Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I am always glad to bring readers along with me.....................stan

author comment

After talking to you in the workshop, I am observing thow you use your words, rhythms and rhymes more closely, as well as the beat of your poetry. I felt uncertain at ' as I tred beside a frozen bog' - I thought the rhythm faltered and stumbled a little. You conveyed the scene so beautifully. I love 'antlers desert tired buck deer'.

Jenifer Jaspa James

I hope I am getting better with practice. I'll keep an extra sharp eye on the bog line when I inevitably do an edit on this..................stan

author comment

I sit and feel the cold,
see the breath unfold in rhythms across the wilds,
this one I love, I shall be back stan, Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I will be pleased to have you sit beside me again on the old stump lol...............stan

author comment

now 2019
are you still with neo ma'am

I wish I could feel some cool right now its so hot here I have been having trouble with a rhyming poem and I think you may have given me an idea to finish it off thank you

I also had a problem with "as I tred beside a frozen bog"

as I walked beside a frozen bog
as I traveled beside a frozen bog

just some ideas I am throwing out there loved the rest of the poem :))

love Jayne-Chloe xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

It was so cold out there that I looked forward to breaking wind to feel a bit of warm air lol. I have been watching the news about how hot it is down your way. I don't hardly see how ya'll can stand it. It would appear that I got bogged down with that one line so I'll scratch my head over it a bit........................stan

author comment

see if this tiny edit works

author comment

It works for me well done

Love Jc xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Still playing with other alternatives lol. walk...shamble...trek...stumble...traipse (might imply too fast of a gait).......................stan

author comment

hmmm its the sort of write it needs the right word, any or all of them would probably work but for me tred just hung up the rhythm ...

just had another read its a really lovely ramble

Jayne-Chloe xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Yes, sometimes changing a single word in a poem can really make a difference. That's why a lot of my older stuff pops up now and then. I'm always reviewing my old stuff and fresh eyes often see a better word or two to use. I appreciate your eagle eye and pointing out a word out of place...............stan

author comment

follow and ask who is that silly fellow

i LOVE to laafff at myself
wish I could give importance bereft

trees are always silent
they love the breeze only
and who says they will miss each
you and or me

Nice stan
let's continue the walk
others may come and go
but none will me ever follow

''One day I'l l(they'll) leave (these woods)me/us bereft.
I sigh, arise, my seat now numb
mine also

This is the only walk
I have ever enjoyed
with a fellow poet lke Stan
our poetic man

Thank you for walking with me on this stroll. Perhaps you can hint at what immersed you in this scribble?

author comment

all apart
Stan your scribbles have become a part
of my soulless inner heart
you can see it
if you want to
just tear it apart
you are smart
I have let to learn
the poetic art
Master Stan
ere from this earth
I depart

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