If there were words for locks like tigress dress, I would not use them -- it would be the death of her copper hair. Turned hoary in a moment’s grace, strands grayed by precision, those exact words steal her glory
Criticismman_of_snowsDecember 4 2006, 00:01:52 UTC
You have a very eloquent rhyme scheme running in the first three stanzas of your poem. They rhyme without attacking the reader with, "Hey, I am a AABCB poem."
I also love the way you string several of your words together. In particular, "grayed by precision" and "of joy or lust or wakefulness." They are a pleasure to feel come out of the mouth, when read aloud.
In the last three stanzas of your poem, the rhyme scheme strikes the reader's ear harder than the first half: "cock and rock, ways and rays." It can be jarring.
Also, the first three stanzas are very clear in meaning and the fourth drifts into obscurity for me. Perhaps other readers are able to tease out the meaning, but it left me scratching my head.
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I also love the way you string several of your words together. In particular, "grayed by precision" and "of joy or lust or wakefulness." They are a pleasure to feel come out of the mouth, when read aloud.
In the last three stanzas of your poem, the rhyme scheme strikes the reader's ear harder than the first half: "cock and rock, ways and rays." It can be jarring.
Also, the first three stanzas are very clear in meaning and the fourth drifts into obscurity for me. Perhaps other readers are able to tease out the meaning, but it left me scratching my head.
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