Homework 04-03-13 'Whisperings'

[Glenny Palmer]

“WHISPERINGS” © Glenny Palmer

The iron lace holds rusting to the fence around the grave,
the headstone leans forlorn, in vain despair,
the jewelled blaze of sunset briefly melts upon her name,
and I swear I heard her whisper, “...are you there?..

...have you come at last to visit, did you hear my yearning plea,
did my vision reach you in your dream last night,
will you tarry on this cloistered ground, commune with me a while,
grant me fleetingly, a glimpse again, of light?”

I surveyed the scene around me, searched the yawning desert gold,
where the shadows cast, in total, numbered three,
the grave, myself, and staunch in duty, noble sentinel,
a solitary, lonely gidyea tree.

”Do you hear me.?” on she whispered, so familiar she seemed,
and awkwardly I answered, “...yes, I do.”
”An age it seems I’ve waited, do you realise my child,
that the waiting now, has passed as well, for you?

For the desert tenders silence that accords you leave to hear,
to comprehend the singing of your soul,
for so long you have been deafened by the clamour of the crush,
been seduced by duty, stolen from your goal.

Know your duty now is honoured, and your striving too, declared,
that your purpose, like the road you walk, will turn,
you must follow where it leads you, see? it guided you to me,
find your courage now, embrace what you must learn.”

I saw then in the ether all the babies I had borne,
all the little ones I’d nurtured, now full grown,
and I watched them marching proudly on their own distinctive paths,
and I realised my journey is my own.

I saw my ageing husband with his withered hands in mine,
those hands that brought us sustenance and care,
in his eyes that weary craving, compensation for his bride,
for a legacy he always prayed was there.

I then beheld the seasons, how they knew just when to turn,
and I heard the tolling of my season’s bell,
again her whispered urgings stirred the consciousness within,
that the story of my life, is mine to tell.

In gratitude I picked for her a single desert pea,
and blessed the humble blossom where it fell,
I gathered up my dreams and placed them back inside my heart,
and I kissed the leaning headstone, fond farewell.

[william williams]

simple great glenny

bill the old battler

[mummsie]

Wow,Glenny at her best. I love this
May I say how great it is to see the likes of David and Glenny taking part in the workshop-so much to take away from their work and if your looking for a lesson in "descriptive" writing, they don't come much better than this.
Thanks again
Sue

[Maureen K Clifford]

Beyond beautiful Glenny, but at the risk of being seen to be extremely nit picky tonight that first line doesn't sound right to my uneducated ears

The iron lace holds rusting to the fence around the grave,

rusting iron lace I can handle So I am trying to take into account what Neville is always telling me about putting words in back to front and to me that is what is going on here.

No doubt I am probably wrong - but querying it just the same to gain the understanding.

Love this verse - it's inspired.

I saw then in the ether all the babies I had borne,
all the little ones I’d nurtured, now full grown,
and I watched them marching proudly on their own distinctive paths,
and I realised my journey is my own.

Cheers

Maureen

[Robyn]

Glenny, it's wonderful. Thoughtful, thought-provoking - a thinking woman's poem.
Robyn

[Bob Pacey]

Not a bad effort for a sheila !


Thank you Glenny

[Peely]

G'day Glenny

A stickler on grammar would argue that the headstone in the first stanza would be leaning forlornly, since 'lean' in this case is a verb which requires the adverb form in description which is 'forlornly'. Take out the word 'vain' and replace 'forlorn' with 'forlornly' and this is easily fixed.

I have never heard any speaker, Australian or otherwise (where English is the main language used), say the word 'familiar' as four syllables. Two of the sources that I checked (Macquarie Concise Dictionary and dictionary.com) list it as three syllables. Noting that one of these sources is American, it is hard to argue that the three syllable pronunciation is an Australianism. 'Solitary' was the other word that there could have been an argument either way for - the Macquarie said three syllables, dictionary.com said four. It is possibly an Australianism in this case to pronounce as three syllables.

Apart from those couple of little things, great poem.

Regards


John Peel

[warooa]

Very pleasant poem.

Marty

[Glenny Palmer]

Bill, Sue, Robyn, Bob, Marty, Thank you so much for cheering up my (currently) dismal days.


''Wow,Glenny at her best.''............Sue, you did make me chuckle love....I wrote this in 1999...only 3+ years into my 'apprenticeship'......I hope that doesn't indicate that I'm a 'has-been' now....

xx Glenny

[Bob Pacey]

Yeah keep that up and you could go places ?


Bob