Debbie Guzzi Poet Personification

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.

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Lena Pate May 1, 2009 at 5:02 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.

Janice Herzog April 23, 2009 at 7:43 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

Tyler Davis April 17, 2009 at 11:23 PM This is a lovely poem, thanks for your comment.

Abe Lopez March 24, 2009 at 9:12 AM very moving. I am so glad spring is on it's way ........very nice!

Sharon Winter March 22, 2009 at 6:06 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

Robin L. Gass March 20, 2009 at 4:51 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

Derrick Burton March 20, 2009 at 10:54 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.

David Smalling March 20, 2009 at 10:08 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

L'Nass Shango March 20, 2009 at 5:34 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!

James Peranteau March 19, 2009 at 3:52 PM Deborah, where i live,..it has been a delightful last chew of winter today! TY james

Charmaine Chircop March 19, 2009 at 1:25 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

Lena Townsend March 19, 2009 at 10:28 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