Welcome to Shards of Silver

Marianne Moore once defined 'poetry' as "Imaginary gardens with real toads in them". I found this such a striking definition of something that captures the values of poetry that I couldn't leave it alone.

I've been writing - attempting - poetry since I knew how to hold a pen(cil). Some poems I write I like, most I don't, but every now and then I feel compelled to write them down, like a flush of emotion that demands access to some sort of visible medium that can later be accessed and reconsidered. I thought, maybe, that sharing these poems could help me out a little. I welcome critiques, critical and constructive (though I do, of course reserve the right to ignore the sharper sides of people's tongues ;) ), and hope that in return for your help I can leave you with something better than sorry attempts at a craft which only a tiny few have ever really mastered.

Clear Skies~V

Monday, July 12, 2010

Murmurs

Drift away on the wings of silence
And carry the murmurs in the palm of your hand
Like memories that you will never forget.
Wake with the morning
And dream of the sunshine in the water
And carry the murmurs in the back of your mind
Like shivers of silver and glass.
Walk with the night in the darkness
That flows around you in eddies and reflections
And carry the murmurs in the core of your soul
So that you may always remember
Who you were before.
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