Thank you all, glad you enjoyed it.
The sun shines bright
the birds sing softly
Nothing moves
Except for the wind brushing its fingers through the fabric of the world.
The lawn is green and freshly mown, perfect.
Oxford's golden stones shine bright, piercing through the shades of stupidity, enlightening.
Their luminosity reverberates around the quad.
Bells toll in the distance.
Doors bang, dons and students cautiously make their way to chapel, heads down so as not to disturb the glory of the still air.
Nothing moves.
The spires still stand, dreamily still, they capture the light and hold it tight.
Down by the great old oak, in its shade, snowdrops and crocuses flower, pushing their way through the soft soft earth, screaming their joy for spring is here at last!
Spring is here, and it is Oxford on a Sunday.
Nothing moves.
There is silence.
There is sunshine.
There is peace
At last.
You will always find that here, the stillness, the light, as long as the spires stand, the sun shines and as long as bells ring clear in Oxford on a Sunday.
The fabric of the world grows thinner,
it is melting in the sunshine.
The fabrics of my thoughts grow dimmer,
too dark in contrast with such light.
And the tower yearns for the sky, higher and higher spiral her dreams;
But my feet are too firmly fixed upon the ground.
Oh my, yes, so lovely. Quite a vibrant picture, and peaceful and rarefied, the way the ancient universities are always portrayed. I like the first long stanza very much. wonderful rhythm, and a sense of timelessness.
I might be wrong but the second two stanza seem a little afterward, and self-conscious, as though they're somewhat disconnected and not quite filled out. As though a couple ideas are quickly touched on and left. I might prefer to see them either slightly elaborated, or left off. I suppose it's just a slightly jarring shift in perspective, broad omniscience and then suddenly 'my.'
Not that poetry shouldn't switch perspectives, but maybe a transition could be nice?
Overall, quite quite good. And I envy your place of education! (my college was only built in the 1970s, and while respected, is not quite an outstanding bastion of academia. ; )
Blending blending blending.
For some reason when I envisioned everything it all seemed to kind of pulsate with one blending force, like even the people walking and the trees and buildings were sprouts from the earth.
It all read like a thought.
I say that alot about poetry.
But this was truely a thought, like this all came to mind while basking in it all, taking it all in while strolling, standing in the middle of it, or simply looking up at the sky.
It was a dreamer's perception of a uniform yet ornate complex and it's people.
Definately a star.
Love to see more.
Exe's and Oh's, Era.
120,141 Literary Works • 648,785 Reviews
Points: 1477
Reviews: 31
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