# My Peak of Joy



## SilverMoon (May 16, 2010)

Rocking chairs,
acquired over time,
sit on my wrap around porch 
randomly placed amongst braided rugs.

It’s this porch which hugs my cabin
where I sit with an ale in the evenings
gazing at a sky with a God full of stars,
a trillion tiny points of lights blinking, 
flirting with the mountain tops.

The rugged scents 
of cedar, charcoal and sassafras
sunken into my worn foothill jeans,
are the notes of a rare fragrance
I’d only dreamt of on busy urban streets.

Curled up on couch, my cathedral ceiling, 
tall as the Over Cup Oak, makes me feel holy,
an angel, rooted in the glory of the high earth.

It’s the sound of tin bells I hear dancing,
close then apart, hung near my front door
while winds whistle in crevice of mountain breasts
making for dreams of deer and valley depths. 

The only music I need
are the sounds of crackling logs,
wind whistles, the tango of tin bells, 
the creaking of my rocking chair
and the gladness of my breaths…


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## Futhark (May 16, 2010)

Silver,

Like I mentioned in an earlier post, poetry isn't my strong point. So I can't offer too much along the lines of criticism. My comments reflect the viewpoint of a lay reader, so keep that in mind.

That said, I did enjoy this piece. You confidently evoke a mood of peace and tranquility. That shows skill.

Still, I'd like to see a bit more conflict. (This may very well be my background in fiction speaking.) You touch on the contrast between urban living and your more peaceful, rustic surroundings now. I think a bit more of this contrast would help give the piece more purpose.

Here are a few bits that particularly caught my attention:
*gazing at a sky with a God full of stars,*​Beautiful phrase here!
*a trillion tiny points of lights blinking, *​Just a nitpick, but I hate "big number" hyperbole. Something more obliquely descriptive might serve better here, like, "a black sheet full of tiny pinpricks blinking"
*sunken into my worn foothill jeans,*​Not sure what "foothill jeans" means, but I think this still works. It fits, somehow, with the duality of the poem's subject: mountain and woman together and distinct at once.
*an angel, rooted in the glory of the high earth.*​Somewhat dissonant phrasing here. We don't normally think of angels as being "rooted."
*while winds whistle in crevice of mountain breasts*​This line seems out of sync with the prose poetry style of the rest. The wording seems almost archaic.
*and the gladness of my breaths…*​Another nit, but I _hate_ the "ellipsis ending". I think a period does so much better. It seals off the poem and gives it a sense of completeness. You don't need an ellipsis to signify that this piece seeks to describe something ongoing and eternal. That's accomplished in the main body.


Overall, I like the piece. It's soothing and moody (in a good way). Still, the fiction writer in me keeps looking for the conflict, which may or may not be relevant or even helpful at all. Either way, hope this helps.

Thanks for the read, Silver!


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## Chesters Daughter (May 16, 2010)

Red rover, red rover, I'm glad you brought this over, it got my vote.  If this is factual, you really should invite me over, I'd love to borrow your dream place for it fits the specs of mine perfectly. You have Heaven, love. The imagery is absolutely superb and I loved the alliteration. The incorporation of scent added perceptional depth which I found quite pleasing (how I love cedar). At first I was inclined to agree with DanCol regarding the ellipsis, but then realized you were seeking to create a sense of the perpetual. One possible nit, I believe wraparound should be one word in this instance. Truly enjoyed, love, you swept me away and I didn't want to return.


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## SilverMoon (May 16, 2010)

Dan, thank you for your very generous review. I'm laughing here because this is my one poem without conflict! The first time I ever intended to write something "peaceful". Anyone here who knows my writing well tell you I write very darkly. Here, quite a departure for me. So, I guess I just answered your question.

_I like this very much but would have to find an alternative word for pinpricks. You have me thinking!_


> "a black sheet full of tiny pinpricks blinking"


 
Concerning your quote below. I just wanted to quickly inject former "urban existance". Where she came from so as to enjoy her present surroundings to this extent. Her makings for herself. But as you're a fiction writer I certainly understand why you need to read something more meaty.


> You touch on the contrast between urban living and your more peaceful, rustic surroundings now. I think a bit more of this contrast would help give the piece more purpose.


 
You're absolutely right. We normally, don't see angels rooted in the earth. I was intentionally portraying this contrast. A kind of little surpise we poets sometimes employ.


> *an angel, rooted in the glory of the high earth*


 
I've been thinking of shortening this but didn't want to abandon the alliteration. Something else to think about.


> *while winds whistle in crevice of mountain breasts*


 
A great compliment from you. "Soothing and Moody" Exactly what I was aiming for! Thanks again for the attention you've given to my piece, Dan. Laurie


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## SilverMoon (May 16, 2010)

Oh I wish this was factual, Lisa. I'd invite you over in a second. I suppose living on Long Island surrounded by concrete made it easy for my mind to travel to the mountains. (Though I do have the sound nearby!) I'm so glad this is a place you would like to be. You could stay as long as you'd like. But you'd have to help me haul wood to the fireplace!


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## MaggieG (May 16, 2010)

Laurie I read this this morning twice, and then went off to do my errands with visions of the many mountains and woods I have seen in my life. 

This lingers like a Sunday morning on a wood porch   

Excellent read


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## SilverMoon (May 16, 2010)

Thanks Maggie, you can come on over with Lisa and help me haul that wood to the fireplace. And then hang out, warm up, with a good bottle of red wine! :-D


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## Firemajic (Jul 9, 2011)

SilverMoon--What a Gorgeous tranquil poem.. I loved the vivid imagery ---you so cleverly hit on not only the sights--but the smells and the sounds.Stanza 5--poetry in it's purist form. Thank you for a stunning read.   Peace...Jul


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## Gumby (Jul 9, 2011)

I'm glad Jul revived this one, Laurie. I didn't realize you had brought it over to this site, sorry I missed it and am so late in commenting. You know I love this one, it got my vote also, with it's peaceful beauty.


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## SilverMoon (Jul 9, 2011)

*Jul *You archaeologist! You certainly did dig up an old fossile. I sumbitted this for a Poetry Contest way back (didn't win or come close). The Poetry Contest prompts are always so lovely and uplifting that I have no choice but to turn my black pen into a white one. Something I rarely do if you take notice of my Signature. So you've revealed another side of me. Oh, no! Maybe, I'll step out into the daylight, again. I'm very glad you enjoyed the read. Thank you.

*Cindy *I'm very surprised that you remember this one. Never thought it was that memorable! And thanks for your vote. An honor coming from a gifted writer.


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## Squalid Glass (Jul 10, 2011)

Oh! Something new that is old. This is a nice change up from your normal stuff. I'm glad this got revived!


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## SilverMoon (Jul 10, 2011)

Thanks, Glass. I don't know what came over me?!


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## SilverMoon (Jul 11, 2011)

Thanks, Uzo. Certainly different for me. And I'm glad you think I pulled this one off!


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## Chiefspider (Jul 13, 2011)

SilverMoon, you have wowed me, I felt relaxed reading this, really put a smile on my face. excellent work in capturing a perfect, relaxing, moment. again keep up the good work !


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## toddm (Jul 14, 2011)

How did I miss this one earlier? a true delight to read, and a nice contrast to your usual.
You set the mood and scene perfectly, and every stanza exudes peacefulness, and indeed a quiet joy
great work
---todd


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