# Blackberry Morning (For Todd)



## Phyllis (Oct 5, 2011)

Todd challenged me to use a particular line in a poem, so here it is.  Took a while to work down to use the line, but I get carried away with nature stuff, being a country girl at heart.  The place described here is from my memory, and this was a routine for me in blackberry season.  Hope it meets with Todd's approval.

Blackberry Morning 

To beat the flocks to their feast,
with the hope of a dinner pie,
I’ve come, in the damp chill of dawn,
up to a forest-trimmed pasture
to gather sweet little miracles.

Berry jewels glitter in the early light
as I reach inside their prickly net,
filling my small basket with the blackest,
leaving the rubies to ripen for a day,
as will the birds, eating only the sweetest.

As they greet the day with varied song,
the sun is less red and growing round,
though still hugging the distant horizon, 
gradually turning grays to greens,
spreading long shadows from the trees.

Thin rays of warmth dissolve the chill
and dry the sparkle from the grass.
Having taken my share, I rest on a log
to survey this new morning scene
stretching out around my hilltop perch.

Glowing mists rise from the forest,
offering their brief lives to the sun.
As deer silently emerge to graze,
barely pausing to glance my way,
two squirrels chase figure 8’s nearby.

A few scout birds test the berry patch,
then signal that breakfast is served.
Soon dozens of others come to feed,
flitting down and up, berries in beaks,
making a feathery blur over the bushes.

Clumps of wildflowers to my left
have invited bees to pollinate them.
Butterflies have joined in the orgy,
dancing wildly, imbibing sweet nectar,
teasingly exposing then folding their wings.

As I’ve remained still, so has the air,
but now, warmed and wakened, it mixes
with the cool forest, creating invisible
currents, giving birth to a breeze,
bringing fresh fragrance to my face.

The cool scent of juniper competes
for my delight with the sting of tall pines,
while the aroma of hay floats up
from the fields below in the valley,
as the wind’s soft whisper finds my ears.

The sun has broken free and now hovers
brilliant in the eastern sky, shining its love
on our distant planet, giving us this day.
I sit drinking in the world like wine, 
surrendering myself to its intoxicating beauty.

copyright © 2011 Phyllis Stewart


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## Angel101 (Oct 5, 2011)

Well, not many people know this, but I'm a country girl at heart too. Was born in the great state of Alabama and used to have the STRONGEST southern accent you can imagine. Went to speech therapy after I moved to Florida because all the kids made fun of me. No, seriously. Ha, ha. Anyway, I moved from Alabama when I was 6, but I remember that we had a huge blackberry bush in the back yard. I used to pick them, and then my grandmother would make blackberry pies. One of the only good memories I have from my childhood, so this poem touched me in that way.

However, I do feel like it was way too long. Your descriptions are beautiful and you've captured a scene. But that's essentially all this poem is doing, capturing a place. There's nothing wrong with that at all. It's just that I feel that there were way too many words, given that fact. Other than that, I don't have any complaints. 

Beautiful work. Now I want blackberries... 

Bay


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## Phyllis (Oct 5, 2011)

Angel101 said:


> However, I do feel like it was way too long. Your descriptions are beautiful and you've captured a scene. But that's essentially all this poem is doing, capturing a place. There's nothing wrong with that at all. It's just that I feel that there were way too many words, given that fact. Other than that, I don't have any complaints.



Bay, from one country girl to another, thank you for your comments.  As for the length and wordiness, I wanted to give the reader the sense of being there, thus all the details.  The line Todd had asked for is second from last, but as I wrote I wasn't in a rush to get there.  I enjoyed "being there" and tried to recall every bit of such an experience. 

I could have just said:

I picked blackberries for a pie
before the birds got them all,
which meant starting at dawn.
When I was done, I sat down,
checking out flowers and animals 
and mists and all that cool nature stuff,
then thought, "Wow!
All this beauty is makin' me drunk!"

Shorter and to the point, and much less wordy, but not quite what I set out to do.  ( Sorry, Bay, couldn't resist it!  )


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## Angel101 (Oct 5, 2011)

Well, you get my point, right? The poem really needs to be shorter. But others are free to disagree. All I'm saying is that while it was well-written, it didn't hold my attention.


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## toddm (Oct 5, 2011)

Phyllis, this is amazing - such a delightful revelling in nature, and such rich and unique ways of describing things we've all seen - "berry jewels" is perhaps my favorite, among so many wonderful little touches - you make the scene very fresh and real - I am doubly amazed as you created such a sustained and beautiful and polished piece in a one day - : )

It is long, but it held my interest since it is so well written and is such a rich unfolded tapestry - this type of poetry is very close to my heart, nature scenes, but I know not everyone gets into simply a pretty picture - it's all in the details though - the same scene described by a less skilled writer would not be as enthralling, but the lush words with which you painted make the edges of the leaves and the glinting ripeness of the berries shine with a golden light that for a few delicious moments glowed brightly in my mind - thanks!

---todd

(oh, one small thing, I think you should uncapitalize "Surrendering" in the last line.)


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## Phyllis (Oct 5, 2011)

toddm said:


> I am doubly amazed as you created such a sustained and beautiful and polished piece in a one day


Todd, thank you so much for your comments. Glad you liked it, since you gave me the assignment and I didn’t want to let you down.   It didn’t take a “day”... more like an hour, with breaks for ice cream and dog pottying.  I never plan what I’m going to write, but just start with a single idea, and find a vantage point “inside” that idea, then just type away till I’ve reached the goal and it feels complete.  As I’ve told my hubby, I really don’t write poems – they write themselves, using my fingers.  So it never takes very long to get the bones down.  Tweaking might take a while longer, but this one didn't ask for much editing, surprisingly.



toddm said:


> (oh, one small thing, I think you should uncapitalize "Surrendering" in the last line.)


Thanks for telling me, and I’ve fixed it.  I am still new to this modern style, as I said elsewhere.  In my day, the rules required capitals for each line.  I’m trying not to do that now, but that one slipped through, I guess.  



Angel101 said:


> Well, you get my point, right? The poem really needs to be shorter. But others are free to disagree. All I'm saying is that while it was well-written, it didn't hold my attention.



Bay, I get your point ... just don't agree. Neither of us is right or wrong about this.  We just like different kinds of poetry.   I love a lot of what you’ve posted,  but much of it is clear only to you.  That is your style – a few words in your poems can have enough meaning for a whole stanza.   It’s dense and intense, but largely a mystery to me.  I always reread your work several times, trying to pick up more meaning from the many unusual phrases until I’m satisfied that I “sorta” got it.  I am usually left with feeling more than knowing, but that's good too.

My style, on the other hand, leans toward communication with the reader.  I often edit and re-edit for clarity, since I want to be sure that readers can grasp my meaning without having to guess.  I have actually tried to write the less literal type of poem that you do so well, but I can’t bring myself to be cryptic.  Just isn’t in me. 

I’m sorry if you lost interest and didn’t enjoy my little hilltop worship, but that is perfectly fine.  We both like blackberry pie, but maybe that’s as far as it goes.  We are different people. There is no “correct” preference for either pie or poetry.  I will still enjoy being mystified by yours, even if you get bored by my long ones.


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## feralpen (Oct 8, 2011)

Jeepers ... where to start??? I refuse to make this clinical, you deserve better than that. This brings back so many memories from my boyhood. I've picked many gallons of berries. I've experienced all or nearly all of your wonderful visions, sensations and images ... I don't think I could ever put them into words as aptly as 'Blackberry Morning'.

Blackberry Morning 

To beat the flocks to their feast,
with the hope of a dinner pie,
I’ve come, in the damp chill of dawn,
up to a forest-trimmed pasture
to gather sweet little miracles.

The opening is perfect (for me). You first have to know what you are writing about to give the PERFECT expressions. You must beat the flocks for the best berries. Berries, most often, DO grow in or around pastures or the edges of the wood... and they are sweet little miracles.

Berry jewels glitter in the early light
as I reach inside their prickly net,
filling my small basket with the blackest,
leaving the rubies to ripen for a day,
as will the birds, eating only the sweetest.

"Berry jewels glitter in the early light" Again, just right. I've braved that prickly net many, many times. 

As they greet the day with varied song,
the sun is less red and growing round,
though still hugging the distant horizon, 
gradually turning grays to greens,
spreading long shadows from the trees.

Absolutely beautiful description of a sunrise. We, as writers, are always tempted by 'sunsets', but I'm a morning person. Thank you for this wonderful treat. (sorry about the repetition in, I only own so many adjectives).

Thin rays of warmth dissolve the chill
and dry the sparkle from the grass.
Having taken my share, I rest on a log
to survey this new morning scene
stretching out around my hilltop perch.

Great scene, but I'm a little disappointed that by this time you are not sharing 'purple fingers'.

Glowing mists rise from the forest,
offering their brief lives to the sun.
As deer silently emerge to graze,
barely pausing to glance my way,
two squirrels chase figure 8’s nearby.

Liked the 'figure 8's' a lot. I've seen it. I would have opted for the 'barber pole', however... giggle .........

A few scout birds test the berry patch,
then signal that breakfast is served.
Soon dozens of others come to feed,
flitting down and up, berries in beaks,
making a feathery blur over the bushes.

This is RIGHT! It's the way they arrive! This is exquisite writing!

Clumps of wildflowers to my left
have invited bees to pollinate them.
Butterflies have joined in the orgy,
dancing wildly, imbibing sweet nectar,
teasingly exposing then folding their wings.

For me, this is part of it. It is integral. Even when berry picking was work (to sell), I could never neglect the nature surrounding the berry patch. There was always activity, always birds, bees, flowers. I have watched bumble bees in the clover fields, watched as the yellow pollen builds and builds on their hind legs. I've seen the honey bee's dance, cataloging the location of THAT flower so that it can 'tell' the others workers. Lose interest, I think not, I can not read fast enough!!!!!!! 

As I’ve remained still, so has the air,
but now, warmed and wakened, it mixes
with the cool forest, creating invisible
currents, giving birth to a breeze,
bringing fresh fragrance to my face.

As a hunter, I recognize this as well. With morning, sunrise and the warmth that comes with it, the thermals rise and give movement to flowers, leaves and the air itself. It IS gentle enough to carry those soft fragrances, lilac, iris and of course sourwood.

The cool scent of juniper competes
for my delight with the sting of tall pines,
while the aroma of hay floats up
from the fields below in the valley,
as the wind’s soft whisper finds my ears.

Almost complete, the morning waits for me to catch up. You allow it, not force it. New mown hay ... alfalfa with just a few twigs of sassafrass ... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ............. 

The sun has broken free and now hovers
brilliant in the eastern sky, shining its love
on our distant planet, giving us this day.
I sit drinking in the world like wine, 
surrendering myself to its intoxicating beauty.

My only nit. The last line is not strong enough. I'm not sure how to generate enough power to close such a wonderful write but it might include:

and from that chalice, I am filled

Thank you Phyllis for this nostalgic treasure.

fp


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## Phyllis (Oct 8, 2011)

Todd, you make me blush!  Thanks for your sweet compliments.  But then you have been there, so you are most likely to "get it."  City folks won't, can't, relate the way you can, which reduces the size of my target audience.  Sorrow, heartbreak, grief, love, anger, and all those are universal, so are bound to find a bigger audience.

   I have to say I can't help feeling a little bad for those who have never known pastures and country dawns and fresh berries handpicked.  They've missed out on a joy that stays in the soul forever. 

 I've been to cities all over the world, and I have great appreciation for  architecture and art and inventions, etc.   But the fact is we could survive without the shining metal and glass cages and the electronics and the subways hurrying folks to desk jobs.  We could NOT do without that which man did NOT create.  Nature's products are our sustenance, our very life –  water, oxygenated air, plants and animals we feed on.  The phrase "Mother Nature"  acknowledges that simple fact.  But fact doesn't necessarily lead to feeling.  Only personal experience can create love for our "mother."


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## Bachelorette (Oct 9, 2011)

Phyllis, I enjoyed this quite a bit. Reminded me a touch of Emily Bronte, who was a nature fanatic as well. Only one little nit: the use of the word "orgy" just does't fit with the pastoral scene you've painted here, and I found it jarring; took me straight out of the poem, in fact. Other than that, really well done.


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## Phyllis (Oct 9, 2011)

Bach, thanks for your comments.  I used the word "orgy" as a sexual word on purpose here:

Clumps of wildflowers to my left
have invited bees to pollinate them.
Butterflies have joined in the orgy,
dancing wildly, imbibing sweet nectar,
teasingly exposing then folding their wings.

I didn't mean for the word to shock, but to combine with other words and phrases in the stanza to express something specific.  I had the flowers invite pollination, then used orgy since butterflies joined in.  They were imbibing as people might at a bar when in a sexual mood, and in the last line they  teased and exposed.  So all those words were intended to suggest sex, reproduction, and the fact that's it's a miraculous and beautiful part of nature.

I guess "orgy" can be shocking if it's taken out of context, and to many people it's a negative word–– concerning humans, that is.  Not with lower life forms, however.  But I do see your point.


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## toddm (Oct 9, 2011)

I do agree with the issue over the word "orgy", although I see what you were meaning Phyllis - it didn't seem to quite go with the rest, as the imagery that word connotes has nothing to do with the innocence and beauty of nature you so well described
---todd


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## Phyllis (Oct 9, 2011)

Okay, Bach and Todd, you two win.  I'll change it sometime later today.  Got any ideas???


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## Bachelorette (Oct 9, 2011)

Hrm. Maybe "joined in the sport"? It's a bit more playful, and I think it can still have a subtle sexual connotation if you want to read it that way. But I don't know. Maybe Todd has a better idea?


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## toddm (Oct 9, 2011)

Bachelorette said:


> Hrm. Maybe "joined in the sport"? It's a bit more playful, and I think it can still have a subtle sexual connotation if you want to read it that way. But I don't know. Maybe Todd has a better idea?



I think I would simply go with "feasting" instead of "orgy"
---todd


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