Poem Revision

After sharing this piece with my Writer's Circle friend and my Dad, I believe the revisions based on their critiques and a fresh look are very good.  I hope you enjoy this version.

Crabapple Picking

By Kimberly L. McClune

September 13, 2011

Across the lane, awaiting branches dip down.

Dotted with ripe redness

The fruit laden limbs beckon us.

Bags in hand, prepared to claim our booty.

Fresh sweetness surrounds our senses

As Autumns goodness lies before.

Under a delicious canopy, the shiny red fruit,

Guarded by lush green leaves,

Peeks out,

Fingers tempted to pluck them.

A small thrill makes its way down our arms

Past our elbows, to our fingers

As we reach for first crabapples of the season.

The firm, ripe crimson apple, tinted with gold,

Eases gently from its bough.

Some drop to the ground as the branches shake.

Others cling, stubbornly, waiting to be plucked.

Reaching further inward and upward,

The maze of branches calls us to look deeper.

More treasure waits above.

Bags filling, and branches lightening,

The sun slowly makes its way across the heavens.

Woven leaf patterns play on grass,

On our shoulders,

We stretch up through the canopy,

Looking skyward for more luscious treats.

Round or oval; small or large; pear shaped or cherry-like,

Colors dance from pale reds to deep purples,

            Through striated gold and crimson.

Marveling at beauty so earthy, yet delicate,

            We examine each tiny wonder.

Awestruck, scent bearing breezes rustle through boughs

            Bringing Autumns true essence.

Each moment more exhilarating

Bags become heavy and full.

Our voices, carried on those scented breezes,

            Reach flowers afield.

Yonder trees answer with whispering sighs.

As the pilgrimage moves from tree to tree,

Unburdened limbs are free, reaching skyward.

We fill bag after bag, dragging them behind

            Along still green grasses.

Surveying our loot as the sun nears journey's end,

            Satisfied mumblings and laughs fill the breeze.

Riches loaded onto a cart and proudly paraded.

Plans for sweet and savory delicacies fill our thoughts,

            Plunder is borne homeward.

Revised September 25, 2011

New Poems

Here are two new poems out of several that I wrote recently.  The first is from notes I jotted down yesterday morning as I watched the sunrise.  Yes I know yesterday was Saturday and there were no commuters or students, but that is where the poem took me.  The second is a telling of picking crabapples with a friend.  We actually picked three different times last week on our lunch hour.  I sort of rolled it all together.  Enjoy.  Feel free to make comments.

New Day Dawns

By Kimberly L. McClune

September, 18, 2011

Clouds reflect the dawn

Breezes caress the leaves

Colors tint the sky.

Squirrels skitter on branches

Children trek to bus stops

Commuters rush to work.

Watching by the window

The day unfolds before me

How will I fit in today?

Crabapple Picking

By Kimberly L. McClune

September 13, 2011

Across the lane, awaiting branches dip down.

Dotted with ripe redness

The fruit laden limbs beckon us.

Bags in hand, we come prepared to claim our booty.

Fresh sweetness surrounds our senses

As Autumns goodness lies before.

Under a delicious canopy the shiny red fruit,

Guarded by lush green leaves,

Peeks out,

Tempting our fingers to pluck them.

A small thrill makes its way down our arms

Past our elbows, to our fingers

As we reach for our first crabapples of the season.

The firm, ripe crimson, tinted with gold,

Eases gently from its bough.

Some drop to the ground as the branches shake.

Others cling, stubbornly, waiting to be plucked.

Reaching further inward and upward,

The maze of branches calls us to look deeper.

More treasure waits above.

Bags filling, and branches lightening,

The sun slowly makes its way across the heavens.

Woven leaf patterns play on the grass and on our shoulders

As we stretch up beneath the canopy.

Looking skyward for more luscious treats.

Revised poem post

The following is the revision and final version of a poem I posted a little while ago.  After it was read by a few folks, I made a few changes and hope you like it as well or better than it's original.

New Morning

By Kimberly L. McClune

May 13, 2011

Long cool shadows stretched across glossy turf.

Bud, blade, branch

Adorned with crystal droplets

Kindled by speckled sunlight.

Chirp embellished breezes

Whisper through newly appointed boughs.

Pungent with recent rain,

Air full and sweet envelopes arms, shoulders,

Hair.

Brightened orient rises,

Shunning old, empty billows.

Azure heaven emerges

Inviting new day's bloom.

Revised July 5, 2011

New information: After starting to attend a Writer's Circle at a local library, I have made friends with a fellow poet.  She and I have met up and talked poetry, our lives and our inspiration over pie.  We have very different writing styles, but find common ground in almost every poem we share with each other.  Last night we shared a few poems and I found out that she strongly dislikes Canadian Geese and loves the ocean.

I am very excited about the opportunities the circle will bring for growth and learning.  The friendships are welcome also.

Revised poem post

Below is the final revision of a recent poem. 

Join a Writer's Circle at a local library.  The ladies in the group are nice, fun and appear to be quite talented.  This is a very good opportunity to share your work, any genre is accepted.  I'm looking forward to the next meeting, the first week of August.  Presenting the following poem for critique.  Hope you enjoy it.

High Rise Thunder

By Kimberly L. McClune

May 24, 2011

Muffled rumbling,

Long and low across the sky,

Resounds.

Sustained drum roll,

Resonant explosive charge

Detonates in the air.

Sepulchral vibrations,

Dampened roars

Linger, echoing into the distance.

Growling barrage

Reverberates, shrouded and soft

As the storm slowly abates.

Hoarse peal of thunder,

Murky and inhibited,

Fades, cloaked in dull clouds.

Restrained whispers,

The stifled booms,

Choked and Distorted,

Remove to the hills

Beyond the soggy,

Sodden landscape.

Tough night

Put this up on my FB page.  It was a tough night with my daughter.

There can never be too many hugs, too many 'I love you's,' too many pats on the back.
There can never be too much hand holding, silent walks, breezes whispering secret messages, colorful sunsets.
There can never be too much togetherness, too much laughter, too much music, too much peace.
There can never be too much you and me, there can never be too much love.

New poem post

So, It's been a busy time around here  Busy enough to be exhausted much of the time.

Here is a little dity that came to me the other night as I was heading off to sleep.

Good Night

By Kimberly L. McClune

June 3, 2011

And let sleep come,
a long nap.
Gorgeous, fulfilling sleep,
refresh my soul
for another daylight journey.

Another new poem

While working this morning, a thunder storm rolled past my area.

 

Here is the result of such powerful inspiration.

 

Thunder from a high rise office building

By Kimberly L. McClune

May 24, 2011

 

Muffled rumbling,

Long and low across the sky,

Resounds.

 

Sustained drum roll,

Resonant explosive charge

Detonates in the air.

 

Sepulchral vibrations,

Dampened roars

Linger, echoing into the distance.

 

Growling barrage

Reverberates, shrouded and soft

As the storm slowly abates.

 

Hoarse peal of thunder,

Murky and inhibited,

Fades, cloaked in dull clouds.

 

Restrained whispers,

The stifled booms,

Choked and Distorted,

 

Remove to the hills

Beyond the somber,

Dampened landscape.