Holding on to feathers

Hope” is the thing with feathers –
Emily Dickinson

How do we hold a precious thing with feathers?
How do we spot the hues in all that’s grey?
How do we break these chains that tether
us with lead of darkness and dismay?
My love, let’s wait for break of dawn and play
some music from our childhood; let us dance
a bedside waltz until we faint in trance.

Today Frank brings us a classic form, Rhyme Royal at dVerse. I wished to tie this a bit to the word of the week at the Quadrille as well. Join us when the bar opens at 9 PM CET.
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October 12, 2017

20 responses to “Holding on to feathers

  1. I am in awe of your writing skills in terms of mastering meter and rhyme. I love the title. Emily Dickinson’s quotation is wonderful…excellent illustration. The first line engages me immediately. LOVING this!

  2. More romance, you randy poets, you. The extra E in “these” had me reading “sea chain”, but I loved your poem regardless. Somehow when I looked up the form, I read that all links are restricted to 10 syllables, so I worked a bit harder; smile.

  3. You always find the most wonderful images to go with your poems, Bjorn! The first three lines remind me of an old Al Green song:
    How can you mend a broken heart?
    How can you stop the rain from falling down?
    How can you stop that old sun from shining?
    What makes the world go round?
    So romantic!

  4. I suppose that’s a new way of dancing; until we faint in a trance. On a serious note I love the way you talk about how we spot the hues in all that’s grey- like looking for the silver lining in a dark cloud. Good one- it’s made me think.

  5. I love the transition from depressed and sort of eerie in the first part and then the last lines are a decision to break out of that and find some joy. Great story in this!

  6. You always make writing seem easy…but I think this form is a good challenge. If hope is as powerful as it is made out to be, then it explains why a feather can be so strong as to hold the greatest of weights.

  7. Lovely, delicate lines (‘How do we spot the hues in all that’s grey?’ ~ sigh ~) floating on a hypnotic cadence..

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