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by joanie 

Posted: 15 May 2007
Word Count: 26
Summary: Oh dear! I'm not sure where this came from!

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Languished under Chardonnay skies
I vegitate with cabbaged
greens until finally

my destiny
reveals itself



I find

that what was once forgotten



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Comments by other Members

Jordan789 at 06:03 on 16 May 2007  Report this post
Hey Joanie,

I like the form of this poem a lot, how it sort of dwindles itself down in appearance, which accompanies the conclusion just nice fine and dandy. I was hoping for something concrete at the end there, a sign of what was revealed because I loved the chardonnay skies and I wanted the speaker to return to that sort of vividness. What a description, too. Chardonnay skies. Like that bold yellow. Very nice.


joanie at 16:00 on 17 May 2007  Report this post
Thanks for reading, Jordan. You're absolutely right. I will re-work it a bit.



Elsie at 17:35 on 17 May 2007  Report this post
Hi Joan, I'm picturing you here sitting on an allotment with a glass of wine in your hand. And why not! (You've been working too hard recently, I think.) I too, like the Chardonnay skies. Have I got the right reading, here?

joanie at 20:53 on 17 May 2007  Report this post
Absolutely right, Elsie - on all counts!

Thank you.


James Graham at 21:52 on 19 May 2007  Report this post
I think I know what was 'once forgotten' and now 'is found'. As Jordan says, maybe at first the reader feels the lack of something concrete at the end, but I think after a while we realise that the poem doesn't need to say any more than it does.

It's what we could all rediscover, given a long enough period of 'vegetating' under 'Chardonnay skies'. Ourselves. Not what we do - or have to do to make a living - but what we are. What's lost and found in the poem could be other things too. A gift we'd forgotten we had, of being more passive, more receptive to things around us. An ability to live in the moment. A capacity to be happy in one's own company.

The dwindling of the poem at the end suggests the speaker is almost too relaxed and at peace with herself to bother explaining. I like that. It's as if, after she gets the last word out, she has no more to say for the next two hours. Talking is doing something - she just wants to BE. It's even as if there's an inaudible sigh (a contented one) after 'found'. Maybe she nods off after a while!


joanie at 23:23 on 19 May 2007  Report this post
Thank you, James. Your thoughts are so perceptive, as they always are; I feel quite guilty that it has taken you longer to type your response than I spent typing the poem!

You have the wonderful ability to see exactly what I intended even though I wasn't quite sure myself.

I do appreciate your wisdom and insight. Many thanks!



Because of your comments in the last paragraph I have removed the last full stop. What do you think?

James Graham at 19:47 on 21 May 2007  Report this post
You're right. There should be no full stop.

An afterthought: I wondered about 'languished'. To languish usually means to be in an unhappy state; my dictionary says 'to be in depressing or painful conditions, to be sickly or weary'. Maybe 'languorous', which has less unpleasant connotations - more like being inert, lazy, passive - would be better?


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