Storm Warning

I hear the skree of the circling hawk,

Look up and see the clouds racing in,

And the hawk, oaring the roiling air.

 

A rising wind fills the listing willows:

Ghostly ships, moored and anchored

To ride out the storm as best they can,

 

No one to trim their billowing sails.

Sky heaves and darkens, disappears.

Only the hawk, the wind and the rain.

 





Poetry by countryfog
Read 642 times
Written on 2012-05-10 at 20:27

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Melie Bacon
If I had more'n two thumbs they'd all be up!! Excellent work...except for the use of ALL CAPS at the left margin to begin each line, a common practice of a bygone era; no longer in use in contemporary poetry...except by the novice and the obstinate, who resist change (when the only consistency is inconsistency). As you're contemporary I implore you to consider my advice, otherwise your abundant talent will surely fall by the wayside of the road to recognition.

Mel
2012-06-11



'oaring the roiling air' is one of the best poetic phrases I've heard in some time. Almost a tongue-twister, it is a delight to recite orally and suggests an intriguing mind-image.

William
2012-05-11


jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
I see and hear you understand trees.
Well done with the willows.
2012-05-11


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Great dynamics and action! As a sailor I strongly identify with this poem especially ships at anchor or moored with untended billowing sails. I find these visions ominous to say the least. The hawk probably found the storm a thrill ride.

Joe
2012-05-10



The writing is so delicate here, and so word-perfect.
2012-05-10



Splendid, countryfog.
Just as jim's woods beckon me within, so this scene summons me to experience nature at its most ominous. Some excellent vocabulary here, 'skree' and 'roiling', while the description of the willows is quite profound.
Applaudeth.
2012-05-10