Gnarly, these withered limbs,
this vessel more rigidity than flow,
winter upon me, a permanent clouding,
sunnier days passed – oh how vivid
the imagination when blue skies
met green grass, no hindrances
Old dreams hover, tethered to fences –
defences to camouflage vulnerability,
offences to keep my paths cleared
Find balance in isolation –
an old tree, past her prime –
Would cut loose this precarious
hold on all things fantastical,
but fear the act a harbinger –
So, I bide my days in this
frigid limbo, and hold on.
(Today’s poem is inspired by the image from Willow Poetry’s challenge: What Do You See? I am also linking up to dVerse’s pub night, where Sarah is hosting with the prompt: harbinger. Ragtag Community provided balance, and Fandango’s word is tree.)
That is a powerful culmination — biding in limbo and holding on.
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Thank you – feels that way some days, lol.
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‘Old dreams hover, tethered to fences’ I love that image.
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Thanks Jane.
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“Old dreams hover, tethered to fences” what a fantastic line.
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Thanks Sarah.
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“Would cut loose this precarious
hold on all things fantastical,
but fear the act a harbinger”
VJ, this is spectacular visual translation!
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Thank you so much, Jazz. Means a lot coming from you
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The winter of our years………
beautifully and realistically at the same time…words of aging and feeling and a matching to the seasons.
The setting sun….an oft used harbinger of ending…but this idea of being in winter, the rigidity, tethered to fences. Really gives the feeling of ending approaching.
I enjoyed this very much.
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Thank you, Lillian for a thoughtful and meaningful response.
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There is a magic to your words as you describe what holds you in this season of your life. It is not an easy stage yet you empower yourself:
“So, I bide my days in this
frigid limbo, and hold on.”
It gives me goosebumps and encouragement all at the same time.
Thank you for sharing V.J.
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As always, you provide such great prompts. Love playing along.
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Thank you V.J.
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You had me at /old dreams hover–tethered to fences/. I’m not a lover of winter; must be different in Alaska, the Yukon, much of Canada, Michigan and Minnesota, where winter is imprinted.
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Thanks Glenn. Winter is a time of enforced hibernation once one is a certain age.
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You’ve completely captured the voice of an old tree indeed. Well done, V.J.!
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Thank you Jade
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it feels like, even in the midst of the helplessness of the season, you’re able to hold onto some measure of control, and that’s important to know about yourself ❤
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Well, thank you for that! Always a silver lining!
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You are very welcome!
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I love how the voice varies within this poem. A mixture of weariness, hope, anger and resignation.
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Thanks for noticing – it was intentional.
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My pleasure. Good job, it drew me back a few times to read.
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identifying the seasons of life and the gentle harbingers – i see a woman coming into her own – you remind me of Glenn Close – the regal proud beauty of a woman’s soul
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Thank you, Gina. Quite a compliment.
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Wise old tree.. Find your balance and hold on.. Lovely blend of all the prompts.
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The voice of this poem, while it says weakness, has a hidden strength in self-knowledge. Rock hard and standing the storms.
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Well-weathered, lol. Thanks for that Jilly.
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You’ve created a powerful chill in your poem, V.J, with a rigid vessel in the opening lines and ‘frigid limbo’ in the last. I love the line ‘Old dreams hover, tethered to fences’ and the wordplay on ‘fences/offences’.
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Thanks Kim ☺️
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‘frigid limbo’ moves on to meet life, proclaiming fertility.
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Nice contrasting description: “oh how vivid
the imagination when blue skies
met green grass, no hindrances”
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Thanks, Frank.
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That frigid limbo and the metaphor of an old tree in winter is very good… but I know deep within a sapling stirs
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You are right about that….thanks, Björn
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The imagery is fabulous! And your words are powerful and precise. “Old dreams hover, tethered to fences …” Love it!
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Thank you!
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Very engaging write VJ, the pic is hypnotic…
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Thanks Rob. Hélène at Willow Poetry comes up with the best images.
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Such beautiful language, metaphor of life, and such a lovely flow to this. “Old dreams hover, tethered to fences” is a wonderful line, but I see in that, too, that they haven’t died. The old tree is living in limbo, but I see strength in that it’s still biding and waiting.
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Quitters never win and winners never quit, my old Dad used to say, lol.
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🙂
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What is it about the word gnarly – it speaks volumes, as does this reflection on the reality of life, thank you for this slice of life.
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I’m glad you commented on ‘gnarly’ – it set the whole tone for me – quite a delicious words.
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It sure is, evocative is its strength
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