The Lakeside

[IceM]

The lake was quiet as moonlight,
snow coating the banks,
white as sunblock.

At a place like this somewhere,
Thoreau lived here.
He saw the woodchuck
tromp through the snow,
the dame's rockets in full bloom in spring--
radiant like sunlight--
the squirrel racing through the trees.

Pondering his love of Nature,
I stuck my toes into the lake.
My skin flushed
and my toes stung.
The water shimmered.
The ripples drifted through the lake
and a fish leaped into the air.
And a hawk dove for the fish.
And somewhere a thrush cried to her young.
And somewhere a pine branch snapped,
the boom resonating in the air
like the beating of a hollow drum.
And the smell of cedar wafted through the air.
And I looked down
and saw my reflection.

[tailor STATELY]

Apart from the "sunblock" I enjoyed your poem immensely. I don't know if you needed to date stamp your poem in this way.

The protagonist's reflection on Thoreau, and then experiencing nature - finding his/her reflection hence finding the "self" worked well for me.

Especially enjoyed
I stuck my toes into the lake.
My skin flushed
and my toes stung.
The water shimmered.
The ripples drifted through the lake
and a fish leaped into the air.
And a hawk dove for the fish.
And somewhere a thrush cried to her young.
And somewhere a pine branch snapped,
the boom resonating in the air
like the beating of a hollow drum.
And the smell of cedar wafted through the air.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[IceM]

Thank you for reading T_s!

This piece was inspired by standing by a lakeside very similar to this. The quietness of the surroundings was enchanting. It felt like a private sanctuary that, while open to the public, had the mystique of being a perfect place for thinking.

I tried writing like Whitman with the lists, inspired by just recently finishing his "Leaves of Grass." I'm very thankful you felt the lists were successful.

My "white as sunblock" line was meant to be a clever way of enhancing snow, for it was incredibly white and scientifically reflects light. I'll think of something to replace that line with though.

Thank you for reading!

[Jack of Hearts]

and a fish leaped into the air.
And a hawk dove for the fish.
And somewhere a thrush cried to her young.
And somewhere a pine branch snapped...

This reader wouldn't expect this bit to work as well as it does. What does he know?

Icee, you're a poet to watch. Some of this poem reads a bit unrefined but then some of it shows emerging talent. Either way, worth reading, and hope you continue to share here.






J

[IceM]

Thank you Jack. I've been working very hard to create poetry I wouldn't be embarassed to attach my name to. I'm thankful my work is paying off. Thank you for reading!

[winterroom]

I particularly liked the fact that, despite the action (fish, hawk, pine branch) it doesn't seem to disturb the stillness of the first line. Perhaps that is something to do with the 'lists' (I have never read Whitman).

A couple of minor points...

"At a place like this somewhere,
Thoreau lived here."

Did he live 'somewhere' or 'here'? I don't think you need both. In fact I don't think you need either.

Would the thrush be calling to young at a time when snow is on the ground?

Hugh