Hi Gerald,
this started off as pure pastiche on O to be in England now that April's
here which is a justly famous poem from Browning because of the strength of
the beat and its consistency more than the sentiment. This one gradually
goes off and for me totally lost its way in the third stanza and decended to
prose would be verse. This is being a little harsh I know, but I'm sure
you'd rather know than not.
bw
James
>From: Gerald England <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: A wouldbe sonnet for spring
>Date: Sun, 21 Mar 2004 20:05:19 -0000
>
>A wouldbesonnet for spring
>
>O to be where you are
>now that Spring is here
>uphill blows the wind
>overturning wheelie-bins
>
>under the bending willow-tree
>bright daffodils stand proud
>hailstones rattle at the windows
>the birds are nowhere to be seen
>
>clouds scamper in the graydark sky
>no sun no moon no stars
>we turn the central heating up
>put on an extra layer
>pull curtains across the door
>and wish we were elsewhere
>
>Gerald England
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