NOT SO FAST!

I had to chuckle at a comment from a friend who expressed appreciation for one of my contemporary poems: "What a blessing it must be to be able to just sit down and let those words flow onto paper!"

NOT! I must correct that.

That would not only be a blessing but a miracle! That's not the way my creative juices flow. Writing one poem may begin with a kernel idea, a thought. But after putting something down on paper there follows sometimes 6 plus hours of concentrated work--the editing seems endless. I examine each word and phrase and polish and rewrite until it has little resemblance to the original draft. And I am never satisfied. Each time I look at it, I revise again, try to choose better words.

My rhyming is usually internal within the phrases, not consistently at the end of a line. I write sense lines in free verse, not metered, and use alliteration and like-sounding words to develop my thoughts. I rely heavily on the 5 senses and emotion.  Note examples below:  "sallow/sun/snuggles" and "comfy coverlet" "blazing/brilliance/bouncing"  -- that sort of thing. (I taught free verse poetry workshops at writers conferences so I try to do more than dash off a few lines and call it a poem.

This is just to let you know that a poem is like a musical composition  or an artist's painting, not off the top of one's head. Actually, I paint with words too. 

Two Spring Dawn Poems

by Leona Choy

SPRING REVEILLE

On muted winter mornings

the sallow sun snuggles lazily

beneath the comfy coverlet of night

reluctant to leave his bed of stars

and down-filled comforter of clouds.

I love to sleep late

deep under my cozy patchwork counterpane

unaware of hazy late morning light

oblivious to my alarm clock

snoozing silently with me

in its “long doze” mode.

But now in spring

the sun flings off his blanket

and rises swiftly

from his restless sleep

with blazing brilliance bouncing up

the rosy steps of day

scaling the Blue Ridge mountains

in a matter of minutes

framed in my eastern window.

How do I know?

Because the sun teases me

by turning on dawn's light

long before six

and sounding a reveille

of chirping birds

compelling me to wake and witness

his daily solar spectacle

and not be late to appreciate

another splendid Virginia dawn.

CREATION'S CHORUS

(My meditation on Psalm 19, The perfect Revelation
of the Lord 'to the Chief Musician.' A Psalm of David

Dawn lingers impatiently on the horizon

eager to cast off her robes of night.

The sun yawns one last time

and turns his face to heaven

magnetically drawn to the skies

in adoration of his Creator

then rises in jubilant splendor

to glorify God:

“The heavens declare the glory of God.”

Earth stirs with myriad life:

flowers open fragile petals

wet with grateful dew-tears

for the light of another day

to display God magnificence

and His miracle touch to quicken

all the slumbering earth for its tasks:

“The firmament shows His handiwork.”

Each new day utters psalms

speaking forth its gratitude for being

sustained and ordered by God.

Night after night shows Divine patterns.

Nowhere is their witness

hidden from human eyes.

“Day unto day utters speech

and night unto night shows forth knowledge.”

Man, who looks upon these wonders

joins joyfully in unison

with earth and heaven above

to proclaim God's majesty and power

and overwhelming love—

and so do I!
***