For Joseph
Shell-coiled hands, delicate as feather-breath,
Flick dark, polished wood to move the clapper—
Fragile leaden sphere—a fraction-inch
To kiss curved weathered brass and—lightly—sing;
Steady-hands, tautly poised, swivel on wrists,
Strike solidly, crisply—twist—and arcing
Tones wing from the tower, feather-flight-high
Above brick and stone and wood and grass;
Hammer-hands, deftly powerful, pound
The lowest octave, pull the ten-inch weight—
Straining against gravity—two inches;
Lead rebounds from bronze in rumbling might—
And all—fragile, solid, massive—blend
In one percussive, raw, ethereal chord.
A contest entry
- Poems Of Giving by Poetess12.
900 points, ended March 5, 2008, 12 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Wonderful! How do you feel about Hopkins, the poet with his sprung rhythm? (Gerard Manley Hopkins). I think you must have studied some of his work, reading this.
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Almost personification ...
and the imagery is striking and vivid. You seem to have the ability to find the underlying beauty in even the most mundane things.
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You did good with imagery. I enjoyed reading your poem. Great write. Thanks for your entry in my contest. I bet Joseph will like it.
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Thank you, and thank you for the HW. Much appreciated.
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