Parkland Tryst


From the starlit lake
a suggestion of mist 
drifts towards the bench
where I sit every time.

I’m slow and often late, 
but she forgives me,
graciously as always, 
no doubt delighted that
I love the way she models
each year’s grandest dress

and the seductive way
she lets slip its leaves,
yellowed and rustling,
till she’s naked and shivers
as the mist thickens
in the hardening cold.

I would embrace her, 
warm her if I could,
but she prefers to wait:
I’ll be hers soon enough.

© Nemo 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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A well-inspired poem very far from a ‘humble effort’.


The clarity of the language and the absence of obscure metaphors is what appealed to me, Gerald, but then I am a simple soul.
As they say, I don’t know much about Art but I know what I like.


I think the task of sharing emotional feeling in simple messaging makes you feel uncomfortable Gerald, even though you clearly have what it takes as is clearly shown with this fine moment, imagining being at an idyll in the natural world, even if it doesn’t take a consequential stance as far as the spiritual meaning of it all, and as far as your own convictions are concerned. I still think your highly-emotive poem “The Bubble” is one of the best I’ve read on the old site, and which was nominated, but lost when the list for the 2016/17 anthology was… Read more »


Whatever – I experience spiritual feelings everyday that last as long as the awesome moment within which they occur, especially when out in Nature, they arise as fresh and spontantaneous feelings, and by their very essence being uniquely personal cannot be instilled in or even transferred to another person. Spirituality is not a belief, it doesn’t need belief status as it’s an actual experience often triggered by a real rare and beautiful perception, but even by a diffuse nostalgic feeling that arises sometimes even without any apparent reason for it to do so. It has no natural coupling to religion,… Read more »


Oh I loved every line, every verse of this gorgeous poem. 🙂 Sue.






After an exchange of PMs, I’m going to draw a line over this unfortunate development and reset my critique rating of you to “confidence again in your critical intentions”, due hopefully to our further “adjustment to what is acceptable” discussion.
He must also write out a hundred lines: “Critique is not a Spanish inquisition!”


I like the poem for its simplicity, I personally do not prefer verbosity of any kind, A very sincere effort, as always.

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