> -----Original Message-----
> From: Mike Horwood [SMTP:[log in to unmask]]
> Sent: Monday, December 09, 2002 4:52 PM
> To:   [log in to unmask]
> Subject:      Re: New sub Silver harvest
> 
> Hello Colin,
>              I liked your overall idea of presenting the journey of these
> sea creatures from their original habitat to the beach and death and then
> to collect them and transport them inland. It is a very descriptive piece
> and I think that descriptive poetry needs, amongst other things, a very
> tight rein kept on the sentence structures and sequence of elements in the
> description. In a few places I felt that you might like to look again at
> those aspects. For instance, in the first line I think the inversion of
> subject and verb reads a little awkwardly without having any poetic
> justification. Why not move to `lie´ to the end of line 1? The line
> `poised lie at the water´s end´ reads awkwardly to me. You could reorder
> to create `lie poised´ but I rather feel that there is just a bit too much
> happening in this sentence - claws open to grasp...lie poised...as if to
> reach. I feel a bit the same about the start of stanza 2. The mussel
> shells, and the limpets and all the observation of the limpets is just too
> much information for one sentence. At the very least I would put a
> fullstop at the end of the first line , after `blue heart´. In stanza 3 I
> thought the phrase `giving all to appear´ didn´t work. Some other phrase
> about leaving the sea might work better. Again, I think a fullstop at the
> end of the third line after `leaves´ would help and I would try to avoid
> the inversion in `knew not´. I´m not sure about attributing consciousness
> of the risks to the sea creatures, not even in their `deeper selves´.
> 
> 
        [Re consciousness,  The sea creatures represent aspects of people.
Thanks,  Colin
>  
>  In the final stanza I thought the notion of the fish being `far from
> their comforting home´ was a bit twee.
> I think the ending of the poem is very strong.
> I´ve mentioned mainly things that I would change. I don´t mean that I
> didn´t like the poem, only that I haven´t enumerated all the good points.
> I hope the suggestions are useful even if you disagree with them. I
> especially liked your use of the sense of smell which appeared around the
> middle of the poem and again at the end. I think if this were mine I might
> try to use the sense of smell as a unifying element from the start and
> create a progression from the most `primitive´types of sea aromas to the
> final fragrance that you end with as a way of reinforcing the journey that
> your sea animals make.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Best wishes,    Mike
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> --- Alkuperäinen viesti ---
> Silver Harvest
> 
> Where the waves wash lie hollowed shells of crabs,
> Faded to pale orange, yellow or white,
> Their  faces brittle on bodies light,
> Limbs loose in the wind
> And claws open to grasp the air or the fine sand,
> Poised lie at the waters end
> As if to reach the coastal rise.
> 
> Empty shells of mussels rest like the two sides of a blue heart,
> Limpets worn to halos encircle sand
> In the space where once was flesh
> That held fast to the sea bed,
> Were promised even then to distant land.
> Razor shells bury their blades in the dunes,
> Staking their claim in the hazardous light of the sun.
> 
> The jellyfish thinning on the sand
> Shows every grain of silver in its lens.
> All join in the odour that the tide leaves,
> The ocean's offspring giving all to appear and to ascend,
> Knew not the risks that they ran
> Or knew only in their deeper selves the wrath of the waves
> That separate from water the sighted and strong.
> 
> Sea fronds lifted from windless deeps,
> Shielded from sun and storm, now stiffen on the shingle,
> Give colour to the pebbles as I pass.
> I tread a mosaic of periwinkles with bare feet
> And hold whelks that have for ever
> The receding sound of the sea to the listening ear.
> New shells lie amid old stones varnished
> Ring upon ring to a perfect point by the lingering brine.
> 
> The skin and eyes of beached fish stare at a blank sky
> Far from their comforting home,
> Eyes that stared once at a mirage of hills
> Seen dimly beyond confusion of foam,
> Drawn hither by the beckoning song of birds
> On ledges where pink sea thrift springs from the barren rock,
> Or further to the grottoes and bays of green
> Where oaks gather over honeysuckle and primrose in bloom.
> I ferry the shells of mussels and crabs far inland to the bluebell woods
> Whose fragrance lifts year upon year to the summits of snow.
> 
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------
> --
> --
> 
> 
> Colin
> 
> 
>