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Spring Reigns

Remnants of Winters tendrils reside upon the bare basalt cliffs. Cornrows of ice cascade washed by relentless rain. Down pours the mana of Spring, the Bride, berating the laggard Winter; expunging the beauty of ice. The sunless muted morn aids Winters grip on its crowning glory; braiding wayward wisps of white into crevasses. The last, lingering, lustful remainders of Winter. The day before Spring begins.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 5/1/2009 5:02:00 PM
"Cornrows of ice cascade" Wow. I love the images that you painted. Winter hanging on while Spring sneaks in to wash it gentle away. Very well written.
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Date: 4/23/2009 7:43:00 AM
Dear Deborah: Beautifully written, and very descriptive. Thanks for reading my poem. I'm so glad that you liked it. Love, Janice Herzog xoxo
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Date: 4/17/2009 11:23:00 PM
This is a lovely poem, thanks for your comment.
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Date: 3/24/2009 9:12:00 AM
very moving. I am so glad spring is on it's way ........very nice!
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Date: 3/22/2009 6:06:00 PM
Always blown away by your poetry. Love the imagery here, but more than that your unique talent of expression. Much of your work is way above my grasp of understanding, as I read in awe of your intelligent writing gifts, often unsure of how to comment. Hope you will forgive me for that. Learning much from you as I read. Love, Shar
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Date: 3/20/2009 4:51:00 PM
You have now put Winter in its place! Another wonderful piece filled with your rich imagery. I like the alliterations, too! Beautiful work, my friend! Love ya, Robin
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Date: 3/20/2009 10:54:00 AM
Powerful and well written. Love the hole nature of this piece which sends one senses into an enjoyable trance. Enjoyed and have a blessed day.
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Date: 3/20/2009 10:08:00 AM
Ms Guzzi, is your last name Italian, I ask because I am a student of anthroplogy, and love meeting people and sharing customs. Whether it is cornrows of cascade or dawn pours the manna of spring, this poem is pure imagery. I love the gift in you. God bless you
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Date: 3/20/2009 5:34:00 AM
True love like spring comes slowly through fall and winter, it is not the sudden rush of sight. You can mother me 366 and beyond, just give more to for the vines of my curiosity to wrap my tendrils around. I want to know you. I feel our discourse can be an immortal one, so much to share and so little time, let the day of spring begins. "braiding wayward wisps of white" ... is so powerful - what is the ontology of the "braiding"? Write me!
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Date: 3/19/2009 3:52:00 PM
Deborah, where i live,..it has been a delightful last chew of winter today! TY james
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Date: 3/19/2009 1:25:00 PM
this poem ,i love it,it describes winter,spring,beauty of ice,all nature,that i love ,so well.keep writing, u keep me glued here.i del. yr email add. by mistake but dnt worry,that poem i wrote was fiction,though other times i write on my true life.but true if men leave bad luck to them as you said;-).i dnt hve a lover,infact i have a husband,been married for 6yrs and am 31yrs old.you hve great writing ,i read your others soon-cheers
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Date: 3/19/2009 10:28:00 AM
The images are so beautiful in this one. "Cornrows of ice cascade"& "braiding wayward wisps of white", these are spectacular lines creating beautful scenery in my mind. WOW. Very true to your poetic soul! Great write. Smiles from Lolita
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