- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Tocsin
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TOCSIN
By CARL EDGAR L** © 2004, all rights reserved
Her voice is a tocsin
stirring the dead leaves of the heart
half sensed from over the far seas
through the last
bleak fire in the west,
the forefell.
A tuning fork that resurrects
the soul-dead spaces in the breast, makes supple
the reliquary of memory, brings close
. . . the upward spring.
- COMMENTS
YDDalmost 20 years agoA very fine effort by a new voice,
"stirring the dead leaves of the heart"
is a very strong and fresh image.
My only question is "forefell".
I can't find it anywhere.
SeattleRainalmost 20 years agoThank you for a taste of something new, loved the metaphor-- imagining that tuning fork vibrating... geting the perfect harmonic
WickedEvealmost 20 years agoI enjoy good poetry. Thank you for bringing me some to read.
bluerainsalmost 20 years agoresonates so beautiful in this lovely pen..visuals are fine tuned....and pleasing to the senses....loved it*****o))bluerain
