New Dawn In An English Rose Garden (my first sestina) Care to critique or comment?

New Dawn In An English Rose Garden





I ramble, a fair stranger, among an English garden


where the finest lovelies dance, bow, and sway


to the songs of nature that fill the sweetest air.


Floral perfumes produce salacious scents


that swirl through the garden, borne on a soft breeze.


Senses enticed, I traverse the stone paths.





Constance Spry is the first along the paths.


She bows gracefully," welcome to my garden".


Her voice, a mere whisper carried on the breeze.


Her long elegant arms branch out and sway


enveloping me with seductive and exquisite scents


of old rose and myrrh absorbed by the very air.





Butterflies and bees, matchmakers of the air,


flit and float between lovers along sun dappled paths


following the dance mapped by a distant lover's scents.


They search secluded sights, secrets within the garden.


A Shropshire lad climbs a trellis in an attempt to sway


a matchmaker to transport his passion along the breeze.

New Dawn In An English Rose Garden (my first sestina) Care to critique or comment?
undoubtedly , this is the best poem sofar I have read on Yahoo. It took me time to read three times with concentration, before I even patly started appreciating the vivid imagery full of personification. Everything becomes alive.


The first wiff and aroma of that personification we get with the word, 'lovelies' - that dance and bow and sway. Again with 'the songs of nature', with,'sweetest air', 'floral perfumes ...swirl,' ' soft breeze',


Gosh! The imagery, just keeps on coming so fast that one feels for a moment lost,in the labyrinth of the stone path.


Its a sweet, dynamic, lyrical poem . Its like the shelly's 'Skylark', where the imagery changes so rapidly, entwined one into the next. One hardly gets any breathing space.


It is just fantastic love of Nature at its full bloom. Just how enticing , how attractive, nay how very seductive the matchmakers are !


i am sure, truly to appreciate this poem, I may have to write pages, such is its rich, exquisite, woven imagery !


The word poet in English does not express its meaning. It is the Sanskrit word, 'Kavin' - the one who sees, aptly expresses you.


It is rose garden that is haunting my soul.


I would have preferred to have some rhyme or a rhythm in metrical form ; but then its just me.





I am qutoting a few lines from another long poem, describing the Dawn over Troy, written in classical hexameter of Homer :





" ILION


An Epic in Quantitative Hexameters


BOOK ONE


The Book of the Herald





Dawn in her journey eternal compelling the labour of mortals,


Dawn the beginner of things with the night for their rest or their ending,


Pallid and bright-lipped arrived from the mists and the chill of the Euxine.


Earth in the dawn-fire delivered from starry and shadowy vastness


Woke to the wonder of life and its passion and sorrow and beauty,


All on her bosom sustaining, the patient compassionate Mother.


Out of the formless vision of Night with its look on things hidden


Given to the gaze of the azure she lay in her garment of greenness,


Wearing light on her brow. In the dawn-ray lofty and voiceless


Ida climbed with her god-haunted peaks into diamond lustres,


Ida first of the hills with the ranges silent beyond her


Watching the dawn in their giant companies, as since the ages


First began they had watched her, upbearing Time on their summits. "





With all good wishes from my heart, Yours, Srikant.
Reply:Yes, indeed, you have mastered this form and expressed it beautifully, engaging all the physical and spiritual senses. Isn't this a fun form?
Reply:I am now envious. A beautiful garden and a beautiful poem and a beautiful lady with which to enjoy both. What more could I ask?
Reply:Lovely visit , I was taken away as if in your secret garden.


Bravo!
Reply:I walked this wonderful path with you. It is beauty.
Reply:I would visit that garden, even with thorns. Well penned, a delightful read.
Reply:I am amazed, and now even more daunted by the beautiful Sestina form, which I do not believe I could ever accomplish. I think I'll stick to whatever it is I stick with for the time being. But this was a beautiful poem with the knowledge of the roses and the vivid descriptions of everything that made it as though I could feel it on the wind. I do believe that I have enjoyed this work of yours above all the rest and that you may rest upon your laurels if you are not currently wearing them. Beautiful, lovely, worthy of honor. Thank you.