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Poetry
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Hipswell Village Green
By CliffBowes
23 February 2007
I have amended this offering and corrected my careless errors. Thank you all for you constructive comments.

I watch from my window, absorbing the scene.
A small world confined to our village green.
Two joggers, mud stained, break into a trot;
iPod engrossed, breathing hard at their lot.
A bairn with his Dad kicks goals like a winner,
His Mam stays at home to cook a roast dinner.
A string of believers to the old church wend,
To pay homage and talk to their imaginary friend.
Into the church like a string of black crows,
They nod to a man whose sadness just grows,
Holding some flowers, an appointment to keep
With his wife, in the churchyard, no need to weep.
She’s at rest now, no pain, no growing older
I’m part of this scene, not just the beholder.

Reviews

Written by Phil (6838 comments posted) 23rd February 2007
:) As enjoyable as the first. 
 
Phil.
Interesting wording
Written by bwoz (125 comments posted) 23rd February 2007
the scene is common, but your descriptives are uncommon; "a string of black crows" is very appropriate for descibing church goers lined up to attend. The word "wend" is perhaps the most interesting -- I had to look it up and I like learning new words. but it fits so well with the rest of the line, and again with the line of black crows. It is a great way to use repetition, which can improve poetry if used descretely like you have. the scene of man carrying flowers to his wife's grave is almost lost in the preceding lines -- due to the interesting elements I've mentioned. But in a poem like this it is probably better that the real "meaning" or message is a bit subdued otherwise it might appear too appropriate or insincere. I don't really care for the last line. It is almost an afterthought, trying to close the circle back to how you start the poem, as an observer. I think it would be more compelling is you say that You ARE the beholder -- I think it would lend a little more honor to the scene, that you are somewhat priveledged to witness the man's undying love and deep sorrow, along with the "crows". Maybe something like: 
 
"the scene is my charge now, for I am the beholder" or something that somehow says you (narrator) will not forget this scene. 
 
Just a thought 
 
Very nice 
 
BW

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 24th February 2007
This poem worked well for me until I got to 'imaginary friend.' And no, I'm not taking you to task for questioning the existence of God, I'm talking about the meter here: 'imaginary' has just too many syllables. I'm not sure 'pretend friend' works here any better, but at least it has fewer syllables. One other picky point is that you have used 'string' twice here: why not 'flock' in the first instance, if this doesn't sound too trite -- it makes your believers sound more like sheep, which seems to be what you're after anyway.  
 
I'm now wondering just how old-fashioned my own dialect of English is; 'wend' is part of my idiolect and was widely used -- in written form at any rate -- by my family, especially when they were feeling poetic: 'I'm just going to wend my way back home.'

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