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Remnants of the Spring
Lupine, Paintbrush, remnants of the spring
Color summer’s browning meadows, splashing
Renoir dots and drabbles along freshing
Snow-fed streams whose whispered burbles sing
Odes to joy beneath blue silent skies
Stretching to eternity; Sierra
Granite mountains, lakes and forests where a
Zephyred evening sunset breeze breathes sighs
Through needled pines, and daylight bids goodbye
As Lupine’s Paintbrush paints the western sky.
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James A. Tweedie is a retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He has written and published six novels, one collection of short stories, and four collections of poetry including Sidekicks, Mostly Sonnets, and Laughing Matters, all with Dunecrest Press. His poems have been published nationally and internationally in both print and online media. He was honored with being chosen as the winner of the 2021 SCP International Poetry Competition.
‘Zephyred evening sunset breeze breathes sighs / Through needled pines…’
What an image!
Thanks for the read, James.
Thank you, Paul. You cited my own favorite phrase (along with “Renoir dots and drabbles)!
Thanks for that “Ode to Joy” – love how your poem just unrolls the carpet of nature’s beauty – truly something worthy of praise and of praising its Maker!
Jeremiah,
I hope “…unrolls the carpet of nature’s beauty” finds its way into one your of own poems, someday. It is a lovely phrase in its own right.
Thanks for your uplifting comment.
This is a small tour de force — completely enjambed, and one sentence (with a semicolon break midway through). There are only four rhymes: the A, B, C. and D ones of spring, skies, Sierra, and goodbye. One might even argue that there is no D rhyme, since the only difference between “skies” and “goodbye” is the pluralizing /s/. And the rhyme of “Sierra” with “where a” is inspired.
There’s also an unrestrained use of brilliant and evocative diction — a faux pas in modernist crap, but a delight in traditional poetry. “Renoir dots and drabbles” took me by surprise, and that is what polished, sophisticated diction should always try to accomplish.
Thank you for the affirmation. It is one of those poems that seemed to write itself, my having seen and experienced it all so recently this past August.
Jim, this is quite wonderful, “Renoir dots and drabbles along freshing snow-fed streams whose whispered burbles sing” is an absolute gob-smacker of a line. There has got to be a song in this. A most enjoyable read. Thank you.
Jeff, if anyone could turn words into music it would be you! Thanks for suggesting that my words sing—or maybe hum…
I agree with the praise heaped on this poem; it is a tour-de-force. More often than not when you have a really striking poem, the ‘strike’ comes down to the handling of the syntax, which lesser poets can’t do, which is why their work sounds derivative. But here the flow ‘seems’ effortless – nicely facilitated by the enjambement as Joe points out. And as James himself observes, it seemed to ‘write itself’, suggesting a Kubla Khan type of induced state: ah! The Muse comes! What next for the Tweedie? Obviously – opium!
Lol, James.
Unlike Coleridge, I remembered my entire poem when I woke up. And in any case, if I had my druthers, rather than opium, I think I would find more inspiration from osuzanna, or osolomio.
PS. Thanks for the thumbs up.
“dots and drabbles” (I had to look up “drabble”) well describe Renoir’s plein-air Impressionist style of painting; and the poem comes across as plein-air inspired.
Yes indeed. Definitely a plein-air poem! Nice.
This was absolutely beautiful – the image-rich, tightened short poem that I like. I echo Dr Salemi’s comments about your rhyme and diction. I also like how you repeat your opening phrase in the closing line, providing a sense of closure, of a journey of thought completed. Great work.
Thank you, Adam. I hope all is well with you and yours.
You know you are good, James, and you don’t seem surprised when others tell you you are. Whatever muse by whom you are underwritten may retire with full honors, but I have a feeling that the two of you aren’t done yet. Direct & Subtle is the name of the law firm in which you two are founding partners.
C.B.
Let’s just say that when I am good, I am usually aware of it and when I am not, no amount of compliments or praise will convince me otherwise.
In any case, I redirect all positive comments to my muse, who, lately, seems to be going off on extended vacations more often than in the past.