The Locket
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
The Locket
V5:
The Locket
The gold is wearing now;
Sara’s worn it so long
around her neck,
she touches it
without realizing it.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter,
our first child.
The grainy
black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere
on it. Even now
when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been.
Today would have been
her 5th birthday.
She would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When alone my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it—
the way my grandfather
would fondle
his cherished gold watch.
Perhaps Sara sees
in her precious
locket
another type of watch,
one which tries to measure
the incalculable:
our love and time with Suzie,
which can never
be recovered.
V4:
The Locket
The gold is wearing now;
she's worn it so long around her neck,
she touches it without realizing it.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain.
But it's as if my wife sees
in her cherished possession
another type of watch,
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
V3:
The Locket
The gold is wearing now;
she's worn it so long around her neck,
she touches it without realizing it.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
V2:
The Locket
My wife wears a locket round her neck.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of the day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
V1:
The Locket
My wife wears a locket round her neck.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age. When she thinks
that no one’s watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of the day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
The Locket
The gold is wearing now;
Sara’s worn it so long
around her neck,
she touches it
without realizing it.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter,
our first child.
The grainy
black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere
on it. Even now
when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been.
Today would have been
her 5th birthday.
She would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When alone my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it—
the way my grandfather
would fondle
his cherished gold watch.
Perhaps Sara sees
in her precious
locket
another type of watch,
one which tries to measure
the incalculable:
our love and time with Suzie,
which can never
be recovered.
V4:
The Locket
The gold is wearing now;
she's worn it so long around her neck,
she touches it without realizing it.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain.
But it's as if my wife sees
in her cherished possession
another type of watch,
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
V3:
The Locket
The gold is wearing now;
she's worn it so long around her neck,
she touches it without realizing it.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
V2:
The Locket
My wife wears a locket round her neck.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age.
When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of the day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
V1:
The Locket
My wife wears a locket round her neck.
It carries an ultrasound image
of our daughter, our first child.
The grainy black and white image
looks like the moon’s surface,
our daughter somewhere on it.
Even now when I gaze up
at the night sky I often recall
our one photo of her,
and what could have been. Today
would have been her 5th birthday.
Perhaps she would have loved
superheroes, zombies, dolls.
Maybe she would love to dance
to rock n roll as most girls do
at this age. When she thinks
that no one’s watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of the day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
Poignant, Bob.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
Poignant, Bob.
My great grandmother lost a twin daughter
and I inherited it through a cousin a locket
with a sepia print of the 3-year old child.
The image was almost completly lost until
another cousin, who was interested in the
genealogy, restored it.
Instead of a clasp that opened it had
a simple glass window. My great grandmother
wore the broach with the glass next to her skin
until she died. Your poem resonated with me
Bob.
How about: [dotted like the moon's surface with age] for L5.
Maybe break at L16 new stanza at: [When she thinks].
Perhaps more direct on L18, drop 'sometimes' and substitute 'will'.
When it's just us two, she will slip out . . .
Good draft.
My great grandmother lost a twin daughter
and I inherited it through a cousin a locket
with a sepia print of the 3-year old child.
The image was almost completly lost until
another cousin, who was interested in the
genealogy, restored it.
Instead of a clasp that opened it had
a simple glass window. My great grandmother
wore the broach with the glass next to her skin
until she died. Your poem resonated with me
Bob.
How about: [dotted like the moon's surface with age] for L5.
Maybe break at L16 new stanza at: [When she thinks].
Perhaps more direct on L18, drop 'sometimes' and substitute 'will'.
When it's just us two, she will slip out . . .
Good draft.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Some good ideas to think about. I will get back to this. Thanks, Ieuan!
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
Bob, the start could be softer, tenderer, not so blunt.
The gold is wearing now
she's worn it so long around her neck.
She touches it without realising
it is still part of us both
The pain is till there, softer now
without the bitterness
It's good to remember . . .
I know it's not good form to rewrite a poem especially a gifted poet.
Just a suggestion.
The gold is wearing now
she's worn it so long around her neck.
She touches it without realising
it is still part of us both
The pain is till there, softer now
without the bitterness
It's good to remember . . .
I know it's not good form to rewrite a poem especially a gifted poet.
Just a suggestion.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Thanks, Ieuan! I really like these last lines
The gold is wearing now
she's worn it so long around her neck.
She touches it without realising
it is still part of us both
The gold is wearing now
she's worn it so long around her neck.
She touches it without realising
it is still part of us both
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
I meant it to replace the beginning, Bob.
I thought your beginning too prosaic.
Sorry.
I thought your beginning too prosaic.
Sorry.
-
- Posts: 127
- Joined: 28 Aug 2020, 23:11
Re: The Locket
Beginning. But Bernie used to say,’ strong declarative sentence,’ pat.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Thank you, Ieuan. The poem is better thanks to your help.
Re: The Locket
Good rewriting, Bob. I have only one suggestion, leave out "the" and just have "time of day".
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Thanks, Billy. I made the change.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
S1 if excellent and complete.
You struggle a bit in S2, Bob
You need to synthesize what you want to say
about grandpa and his watch.
I like what you are attempting to portray
but it is wordy, rambling even.
It's good to be back workshopping again.
You struggle a bit in S2, Bob
You need to synthesize what you want to say
about grandpa and his watch.
I like what you are attempting to portray
but it is wordy, rambling even.
It's good to be back workshopping again.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Thanks, Ieuan. You are probably right. I have made a stab at improving it.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
You are open in workshopping Bob,
a pleasant attitude.
When alone
She fondles the locket
Unaware of time and space
Like Opa with his gold chained
Watch. Stroking cherished time
Longing to bring back times that are lost
Incalculable time that cannot
be recovered.
Apologies for rewriting your fine poem Bob.
Something like that, not exactly, but something shorter.
best wishes. Congrats for your poem in Autumn Sky Daily Poem, this week, well done.
a pleasant attitude.
How about;When she thinks that no one
is watching, my wife
sometimes slips out her locket,
opens its clasp
and gazes longingly at it.
The way my grandfather
used to pull from his pocket
a cherished watch, tethered
to a chain—to check the time
of the day, or maybe the time lost,
which is maybe what my wife seeks,
the locket a type of watch
which tries to measure
the incalculable, time
lost.
When alone
She fondles the locket
Unaware of time and space
Like Opa with his gold chained
Watch. Stroking cherished time
Longing to bring back times that are lost
Incalculable time that cannot
be recovered.
Apologies for rewriting your fine poem Bob.
Something like that, not exactly, but something shorter.
best wishes. Congrats for your poem in Autumn Sky Daily Poem, this week, well done.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Ok, thanks again, Ieuan. I don’t know if this version is better or not….though it is simpler.
-
- Posts: 1988
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: The Locket
Yes, in fact the old adage, 'concise is better,' works.
Well done.
It is a pleasure to workshop with you Bob,
Reminds me of the good times with Bernie.
Well done.
It is a pleasure to workshop with you Bob,
Reminds me of the good times with Bernie.
-
- Posts: 2692
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: The Locket
Thanks, Ieuan! Your help was big.