creeping frost

The feathers and whips of next winter shimmer,
High over the rooftops, beyond the trees.
A question is chorused in the chatter of insects:
“But what about us, what about me?”

The warm wind that flutters the petals of flowers,
He knows not of time;
he thinks he’s forever.

But beetles and robins - they can’t help knowing,
They dream of the ice; creeping, unfolding.

Summer's earrings dance in hurt disbelief.
“But how can you leave me, what about me?”

I can’t take you with me, where the sky will be leaden,
The frost will crunch sharply, the wind will be grim.
Where feathers and whips give peace and make dreams.

I can’t take you with me.

Not enough dragons. I must say, if there were more dragons the narrative would flow like a river, but rivers are awesome - it really depends how happy you are with the no. of non-dragon characters that are in this novel.

Keep writing though

This is absolutely amazing! I love it. The rhyme scheme is great, the meaning is good and relatable, and the ending is solid. I'm not sure that I have anything to tell you to work on because this is great. I guess, you could maybe try something challenging, like trying to describe the texture of the wind or the smell of coming winter. But the poem is pretty perfect the way it is. Keep it up.

Must be honest: this poem did not read to me like a serious poem might read. This has the same flow to it as this children's book I used to be fond of, What Child Is This?. If you want to write serious poetry, that means your writing must mature. As is, this piece is juvenile. It is a typical portrait of seasons and it lacks originality. This idea is tired. Give me more you and less an impression of a poem you heard once.

The feathers and the whips of next winter shimmer,
High over the rooftops, beyond the trees.
A question is chorused in the chatter of insects:
“But what about us, what about me?”

...Cuz feathers and whips are synonymous with winter. Right...
This is a poor comparison between hallmarks of winter and random (weirdly suggestive) things.
As for the insects ...why? If you wanted this to be a serious poem, you defeated that right off the bat. Needless to say, either "But what about us" or "what about me" is unnecessary.

Additionally: what was the purpose of switching from active voice to passive? Just a tad weird.

The warm wind that flutters the petals of flowers,
He knows not of time;
he thinks he’s forever.

Who is 'he'? It's never explained... unless he's the warm wind, in which case I don't understand the purpose of personifying.

Summer's earrings dance in hurt disbelief.
“But how can you leave me, what about me?”

What are summer's earrings?
This is a very basic, uninspiring picture. Summer's earrings, even if I did know what they were, dancing--is pretty much generic. Hurt disbelief is nearly nondescript in context. What is hurt disbelief? You tell me.

I can’t take you with me, where the sky will be leaden,
The frost will crunch sharply, the wind will be grim.
Where feathers and whips give peace and make dreams.

Typical seasons piece... except this one doesn't have a fall. Not different, just sloppy. If you're going to go that taken road, do it as right as you can.
There are the enigmatic feathers and whips again and still no sense has been made of them.

I can’t take you with me.

Not the powerful end you might have thought it was. Instead soap-op-in-a-box, in a sentence. Cheesy, but not cheesy good.

You need to infuse your writing with yourself. This piece, as I said, is severely lacking in originality.
Not only that, but it is also lacking in clarity.
What you need to do is better organize your ideas and really give some thought to how you feel. This way your writings will appear less "half-baked", less haphazard.

On the flipside, you kept meter pretty well, which is worth something.

Good luck.

Parker, thank you for your detailed feedback.
Do keep in mind please, if I ever do enter the mood for someone to bully me for my own good into conforming to their idea of being mature, I'll either join the army or pay a dominatrix. Thanks, anyway.

Parker, thank you for your detailed feedback.
Do keep in mind please, if I ever do enter the mood for someone to bully me for my own good into conforming to their idea of being mature, I'll either join the army or pay a dominatrix. Thanks, anyway.

Parker wrote:Must be honest: this poem did not read to me like a serious poem might read. This has the same flow to it as this children's book I used to be fond of, What Child Is This?. If you want to write serious poetry, that means your writing must mature. As is, this piece is juvenile. It is a typical portrait of seasons and it lacks originality. This idea is tired. Give me more you and less an impression of a poem you heard once.

The feathers and the whips of next winter shimmer,
High over the rooftops, beyond the trees.
A question is chorused in the chatter of insects:
“But what about us, what about me?”

...Cuz feathers and whips are synonymous with winter. Right...
This is a poor comparison between hallmarks of winter and random (weirdly suggestive) things.
As for the insects ...why? If you wanted this to be a serious poem, you defeated that right off the bat. Needless to say, either "But what about us" or "what about me" is unnecessary.

Additionally: what was the purpose of switching from active voice to passive? Just a tad weird.

The warm wind that flutters the petals of flowers,
He knows not of time;
he thinks he’s forever.

Who is 'he'? It's never explained... unless he's the warm wind, in which case I don't understand the purpose of personifying.

Summer's earrings dance in hurt disbelief.
“But how can you leave me, what about me?”

What are summer's earrings?
This is a very basic, uninspiring picture. Summer's earrings, even if I did know what they were, dancing--is pretty much generic. Hurt disbelief is nearly nondescript in context. What is hurt disbelief? You tell me.

I can’t take you with me, where the sky will be leaden,
The frost will crunch sharply, the wind will be grim.
Where feathers and whips give peace and make dreams.

Typical seasons piece... except this one doesn't have a fall. Not different, just sloppy. If you're going to go that taken road, do it as right as you can.
There are the enigmatic feathers and whips again and still no sense has been made of them.

I can’t take you with me.

Not the powerful end you might have thought it was. Instead soap-op-in-a-box, in a sentence. Cheesy, but not cheesy good.

You need to infuse your writing with yourself. This piece, as I said, is severely lacking in originality.
Not only that, but it is also lacking in clarity.
What you need to do is better organize your ideas and really give some thought to how you feel. This way your writings will appear less "half-baked", less haphazard.

On the flipside, you kept meter pretty well, which is worth something.

Good luck.

Oh myy, this is so, very, very good! AMAZING, FANTASTIC, INCREDIBLE!
Really, I love the strucutre, the flow the rythm... EVERYTHING
You're imagery and creativity is absolutely stunning.. Impeccable really..

Can't say much more than that... I do agree with what the previous spoker said.. he had some good points but still, this was really great according to me

Good Luck &... PLEASE Keep Writing

// Demoness