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A Secret World

by Dark One 

Posted: 23 July 2003
Word Count: 293
Summary: Feedback please. I am enetering this poem into a comp


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A Secret World

The pace is gentle
As we clamber over rocky paths
Steadily progressing
Through postcard perfect landscapes
Into a central clearing where
Kids shout and splash about
In the clear refreshing water
A dog barks
Galloping over forgotten paths
A young child gives chase
Much to Dad’s displeasure

Picnic revellers gather in mass
Sticky melting chocolate
Cover tiny playful hands
Ice cream drips on
Freshly washed t-shirts
Over the valley we wander
Away from the growing crowds




The gentle whisper of blue calm
Rolls lovingly over the green valley
Noise surrenders itself to the peace
The crowds have now disappeared
Like memories left behind
This is a different world
A world untouched, unspoilt
By sticky chocolate fingers
By loitering picnic eaters
Time stands still in this place
Like history preserved

The valley spreads itself before us
As far as the eye can see
Carpeting the earth with lush colours
The tranquil echo of a tender breeze
Brushes through our city worn hair
No beeps of horns or rushing feet
Venture here
The silence is complete
The serenity is protecting
As if the mother wraps her arms around us tight
There is nothing to fear in this place





Cotton candy filled sky caresses
A kaleidoscope of pastel shaded fields
We are transfixed
Gazing motionless out into this view
Of a timeless paradise
Waiting at the end of our own doorstep
Cruelly overlooked
But sadly, like waking from a dream
We have to return
Back to the crowds of noisy kids
With sticky chocolate fingers
And ice cream coated t-shirts
We have to return to the beeps of impatient horns
And work driven rushing feet
Though the memory of the secret world
At the end of our doorstep
Forever lingers in our hearts






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Comments by other Members



Richard Brown at 13:54 on 16 October 2003  Report this post
The pastoral idyll; the escape from modern life and the pressure of other people, noisy, sticky kids included! Through this poem I had my moment of escape too and recalled moments where wild or rural scenes allowed entry into a peaceful, sometimes blissful, place. Alas, the visits are only temporary as the poem implies.

I can't quite put my finger precisely on the reason why I feel that the poem loses just a touch of (for want of a better word!) 'discipline' as it develops. Is it simply that the lines get longer? - something to do with rhythm I think, though take my comment as that of one who is no expert on poetry!

Richard.

paul53 [for I am he] at 09:19 on 03 March 2005  Report this post
I see the first 2 verses as an intro to the real meat of the poem. Have you considered deleting them altogether and jumping straight in at verse 3?
Minor point: the beeps of impatient horns is unnecessary; just say impatient horns and let the reader hear the sound.


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