readings gift..

I opened up a page
and there fell out a flower
pressed quite flat,
its petals now become one,
the purple of its colour soft.
Placed here how many years ago,
when some other read of Juliet
and her sweet Romeo?
How delicate and precious is this gift
come from unknown you to me,
via Shakespear's breast.

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: AUS

Comments

sakkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

17 years 2 months ago

Adventure of the written word

Thanks for the insight. I opened a book of poetry for the first time. The writer was Robert Burns. I was to be held to understand his work as the lady the sea was to keep me for a day or two. To understand what a book holds be it a lock of hair or a well pressed flower they in my mind are the same. A look to the words will never give the reader a truism to who held it and why they were drawn to its page. After many trips to my lady I gave the book away to a soldier bound to go to a country far away. As to the same as the flower that was hidden in its page the next life will be to take it to the reason they picked it up and read. Steven A. Kacer

Craig Norris

17 years 2 months ago

to the words..

Thanks Steven... I have a little difficulty grasping the meaning of your comments..it's a language thing I guess...but I have no difficulty as to your intent...so thank you. Craig.

sakkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

17 years 2 months ago

Life

The day to you Craig. I say no worries friend as I a redneck a mechanic by trade am a poet. Enough about me as I thank you for a fine well written piece...So thanks my friend of dreams. By the way I write of a flower from time to time and I care not that this flower I send is to a man. The flower holds a fine green stem she is to hide in the cold yet to shine in the sun. So as we are to say from time to time your poetry is well to the mind a picture to keep forever and a day. Just as truth is a bastard of life so is life of itself to try. See ya friend on the flip side of life and do me a favor never change just write for three you yourself and the gray that you keep. Steven A. Kacer

Cloudthings

17 years 2 months ago

You deserve the gift -soft purple flowers across history & dista

You won the prize then Craig... again.. you seem to win hearts & purple prizes easily it seems. As you should, this is very lovely & I'm glad the gift went to you... & I have the Burns (heh how funny) without a purple flower pressed, a little envious of both in truth... But gifts are gifts... & serendipity & generosity are as they must be sweet & envy free. I am surprised, I thought your Modem had gremlins? Lovely to see this here it was a fluke I found it.. & a real joy... I've nothing there I would change, it's just so lovely. An afterthought.. I feel this little write fell out on my lap much like your flower, pressed between the pages of poetry placed here on pixels across mileage... Anni I wish to walk gracefully..... so as not to spill water.

Craig Norris

17 years 2 months ago

gifts are...

Thanks to you Anni...you nudge me and remind me, help to redefine me. Craig.

Arrow

17 years 2 months ago

An old flower with a fresh fragrance

What a charming refreshing change from so much oppressive poetry I've read lately. *pressed quite flat, (This line doesn't seem as lyrical as the rest.) *its petals now become one, (lovely symbol for love) *the purple of its colour soft. (This is a nice sensuous line!) *and her sweet Romeo. (? - rather than a period) *via Shakespears breast. (Shakespeare's. I love this line! Of course, good literature is a heart that beats through the generations.)

Craig Norris

17 years 2 months ago

..as lyrical..

Thank you Arrow... I'm starting to get the point...love your comments, and thank you for them, they are right on the mark. Regarding the line.."pressed quite flat"... it isn't as lyrical, and how that came about was simply a result of the surprise at this pressed flower falling into my lap, how unexpected it was, it caught me in the everyday, and only when I held it did the poetry of the moment begin. Craig.