Hi grasshopper,
I always marvel at the power of simple language in poems! I sense I won't
forget your Grey Imp (which, like Dorothy Nimmo's black parrot, sats on her
shoulder too! - but your Imp seems a different character).

Grey is such an amazing colour too! Neither black nor white - it's a complex
mixture, I sense, of what I can interpret as "black" and what I can describe
as "white". That enigmatic blend fascinates me! (And I like the way my mind
spins itself out along all sorts of trajectories!)

But I'm wondering about the 1st stanza a little. I sense the rhythm needs
the phrase "like a stone" but the word "like..." (I want a metaphor here).

And is "winter things" supposed to be read metaphorically? I may be alone in
this but I sense the phrase could refer to so many physical objects (ice,
snow, bare trees, whatever...), or personal moods, and I don't know how many
of them, if any of them, I can associate (synasthesia-lly) with greyness.

The next two stanzas, tho, are less complex (they're describing less
complicated images) and seem the more powerful for that.

Ha! I just hope, when I get to bed in a few minutes, he/she doesn't get into
my dreams!

Bob



>From: grasshopper <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New Sub: Grey imp
>Date: Wed, 6 Feb 2002 22:29:50 -0000
>
>The grey imp on my shoulder
>  is full of winter things
>Sometimes he is like a stone
>and sometimes he grows wings
>
>The grey imp on my shoulder
>may jump into your lap
>He'll stain your skin and clothing
>he's such a sticky chap
>
>The grey imp on my shoulder
>has been with me for years
>I feed him on my sorrow
>and quench him with my tears.
>
>                                  grasshopper




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