I was paper wrapped and ribbon tied Trembling tummy fears inside Who would hug me, who would care? I have so much love to share ~ Tearing paper, anxious fingers Oh, how sweet the memory lingers Cornflower eyes and golden tresses Warming cuddles, soft caresses ~ Ruby lamplight, candle glow That Christmastide so long ago Tinselled tree with garlands hung Those happy days when I was young ~ Through the rolling tolling years Children’s laughter, children’s tears My legs were bent my coat was tore Nobody wanted me anymore ~ Now here I lie with the bric-a-brac Faded dolls and plastic tat Sorrow clouds my soft brown eyes They'e made of glass and refuse to cry
Last Edit: Jul 25, 2009 15:52:49 GMT -5 by carousal
Post by Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com on Jul 16, 2009 10:43:22 GMT -5
Wow, Cari, i've never read a poem from the perspective of the Teddy Bear, or any toy, before. Childlike in its innocence, too, for a child would perceive the Teddy bear as being lonely, having feelings, and generally relating to it. *exalt* very creative! (PS use "they're" in the next to last line)
Cari this melted my heart. Such beautiful imagery and memories this lovely but sad old bear has. Gosh you have a beautiful and creative mind. I hope you have had some of your poetry published, such talent. K xx
Post by ARTHUR KELLY on Jul 17, 2009 5:38:43 GMT -5
Splendid write and heart=rendering story told with well written rhyming couplets.
I know these boards are not for serious critique, more for appreciation and compliment but you have always been so honest with me (and rightly so) so feel you will accept my opinion, if not agree with it.
The last line would be stronger if it simply read "...made of glass and refuse to cry..." it would keep with the beautiful rhythm you have skillfully created in the previous lines
ps "azure" will go as soon as I find a better colour
Its absolutely brilliant Cari, and I would go one further than arthur and change the last two lines to one even shorter.............Made of glass they can not cry. I can see this with suitable illustrations in a collection of childrens poems.
The selfish poet
Little poet starts to cry I have no replies, oh why, oh why To get replies you have to give em On others work, then your forgiven.