The Days of Yore

by OurManInHavana

Published May 14, 2016

E - Everyone

In Stories

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Lapping waves on golden shore,
Bring home to me the days of yore
When soft sky was filled with sunlight bright,
And naught was lost, not even time.

Receding sun at day’s end,
Reminds me of my moments spent,
Many seem not to’ve left a trace,
Others I’d like to re-embrace.

To look upon a face again,
Say a one more bittersweet farewell,
I’ll see you in another life,
And maybe then we’ll get it right.

Lapping waves on golden shore,
Bring home to me the days of yore
When soft sky was filled with sunlight bright,
And naught was lost, not even time.

Comments & reviews · 2
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Lemons
Review
Lemons wrote a review Review · May 17, 2016

Hi,

First, your reversal of the order of [adjective][noun] creates a splendid, very poetic, and melodious effect. Also, your use of the receding sun imagery to highlight the inflow of memory is intelligent, so good job on that, even though more of that imagery could have been used in more direct contact with memories (if you decide to add to the poem). Besides this, there is not much substance in the poem. Stanzas 1 and 4 are the same which could be troubling. You may have done that for a nice closure, or to better encapsulate the rest of the poem in these two stanzas. But this might have the adverse effect of making your poem banal or lame. It would be even more efficacious, I think, if you left stanza 4 how it is except for a /slight/ modification. You could change a word or two (of course keeping in mind the consistency of tone and subject matter) and this tiny difference would perhaps strike a reader at the heartstrings even more. Just remember to also not be overly pathetic. Be expressive, but don't be whiny. So far, I think this poem has a very pleasant balance of both, and that's saying something considering a lot of the other stuff on this site. Good job.

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RippleGylf
Review
RippleGylf wrote a review Review · May 14, 2016

Very impressive. The imagery of the beach at sunset is breathtaking. It manages to romantic without being overbearing. The last line "And naught was lost, not even time." is just very beautiful. The lyrical aspect of the poem seems to make it flow with the figurative tide. It is just amazing, well done.

Thank you for your feedback. I'm glad you liked it.



Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.
— Mark Twain