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november robin




                                                      the wee bird

                                           high viewing frosty blue

                                               its blushing breast

                                                  in filigree twigs

                                                    a living  jewel -


                                          the  Great Vow -   embodied






                          essence            in            space


◄ The Written Word

First Love (revised) ►


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winston plowes

Fri 3rd Dec 2010 15:42

Hi Cynthia. Sure this has become coloured and colourful since I last looked. Its fantastic. You have managed to do something with the text poster that noone else has managed. You have not just done it though (that would be quite easy), you have done it brilliantly. My fav bit is the barely legible essence in space. Win x :-)

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Elaine Booth

Mon 22nd Nov 2010 21:46

Loved this - you painted a picture with words and the image of the words too - in the last line the word "flashed" in red is the robin. How very clever, succinct and effective.

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Freda Davis

Sun 21st Nov 2010 17:54

This is clever. Your blogs have different streams of comments. No end to the cleverness of Wol. I commented on your last poem again by mistake.

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Lynn Dye

Sun 21st Nov 2010 15:08

Really lovely poem, Cynthia. Enjoyed this very much. x

<Deleted User> (7164)

Sun 21st Nov 2010 12:51

Oh! It's altered its appearance somewhat :-)

I loved this the first time i read it. To be completely honest i preferred the first version of lay out though.
I enjoyed the flitting words like a robin flitting from tree to shrub and back to tree. Lovely.x

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Sat 20th Nov 2010 16:34

That's all it takes sometimes isn't it? A fleeting glance of something other, something beautiful co-existing in all this vastness. Moments like that inspire you with hope or at least make you appreciate the wonder of it all.
Lovely take on the theme Cynthia. x

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 19th Nov 2010 19:23

As it happened, no ricochets necessary; a birdsong did it all.

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